Feeling Lucky

For months I had wanted a kitten. Something warm and cuddly that I could love completely and have the love returned to me through the soft furry body, the deep purring vibrations and the gentle intimate connection that was missing in my life.

 I was attempting to be in a relationship with a man after living many years as a lesbian. It didn't take me long to regret my decision to give it a try.  I was missing the intimacy of being with a woman.  This relationship was not filling my heart. I had an empty feeling that I knew this man could never fill but for some reason I had chosen to give it a try, and knew I was going to receive many lessons.  I figured that getting an animal would help. I grew up always having a dog and a cat, and I couldn't ever remember feeling this lonely. So when he asked what I wanted for Christmas, my response was a kitten.  I felt that since I was living in his space asking for a dog was a little over the top.  Christmas rolled around, and I didn't get a kitten, but I did get a basket filled with little kitten toys. He told me that they didn't make kittens in December. Right!  Oh, I was sad, but I had the basket with the promise of spring coming in a few months. Everything would be fine then.

 

Tom and I were both in the construction industry and were doing a remodel on the local neighborhood movie theater.  This was going to be a complete gutting and rebuild along with creating the coolest space-age concessions area- and would take some time to complete. I was doing the finish work on the trim at the time, which had to be done at the shop, located where we lived. I left the theater and drove the 7 miles back to the shop. We lived on a little island where I grew up, so I always liked to take different routes home to spark different memories. When I got to the top of our long driveway, I was already in a melancholy state.  I drove down the long and winding driveway into the darkness and the cold. The shop was located on the north side of a little cove and never got any sunlight. It was like living in a little refrigerator. I got out of the truck and immediately heard some thrashing in the bushes. I stopped to listen and saw some bushes move again. I walked over to the edge of the forest and saw little black ears poking out of the Oregon grape. Then I saw its eyes. It looked at me with total recognition, a knowing so to speak. That is what I felt right then.

 It was a little dog that looked way too small for the size of its head. I started to call "Here Lucky! Come on, boy"! The dog got on its belly and started slowly making its way over to me… sliding like a half paralyzed creature. When it finally reached me, I could tell it hadn't eaten in quite some time. I reached down and petted it and our eyes met in acknowledgement.

 I took him into the shop/studio and looked through the cupboards for something to feed it. I found a can of corned beef hash which I opened and it devoured. The dog was glued to me from that moment on.  I decided to call it Lucky. On inspection, he was an unfixed male, and he had no collar. I knew he had to be lost, and that he was probably a purebred Australian cattle dog. I would have to post signs and look in the paper for lost pets, but in the meantime this dog and I were inseparable. I called “the boyfriend” to tell him that I found a dog. He seemed a little unsure but was willing to keep it until we found its owners.

I thought I would take a lunch break and take the dog for a walk. Maybe he would recognize his surroundings and remember where his home was? I headed out for about an 8 mile trek. All was going great until the dog decided to jump out into the road and attack a moving car. It all happened so fast. Of course, the car hit him, and his little paw was bleeding. I couldn't believe it! I have never had a dog that behaved like that. My first thought was that I would have to carry the dog all the way home, but the driver of the car offered to drive me back to the shop. I called Tom again to let him know the dog was injured, and I was taking the rest of the day off. I started a fire in the wood stove and laid Lucky down on a blanket. I started to talk to him like I hadn't talked in years. He seemed to understand everything I was saying. He would tip his head just so and had very expressive eyes.  He was already filling that space that felt so empty in my heart for so long.

By the time Tom came home Lucky was already in our bed, and I would fight to the death to keep him there.

A week went by with no missing dog ads in the paper. I pampered Lucky making sure his little paw was healing and he was getting fed the best dog food. He started feeling good enough to start peeing on all of Toms shop tools. This was an industrial cabinet shop. There were some incredibly expensive tools filling the space. Lucky was marking his territory. I think he wanted Tom to know that he had some competition. Tom was furious for good reason, but I assured him that this behavior would stop with time.  The second week came, and I was looking in the lost section of the paper and came across an ad for a lost black and white Australian shepherd.  The dog I found was not black and white- he was black and grey, and he was definitely not an Australian Shepherd, but I thought I would call anyway.

When I described the dog to the woman, she said: “That’s Lucky”! I couldn't believe it. First of all that his name was Lucky, and he was her dog! She said that they had just moved here from Australia and were renting a house; her husband was a physicist and they had two small children. The dog was not happy being tied in a yard all day and had broken free of his chains and escaped. She was actually looking for someone with a farm who would want to keep this dog. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tom and I had just bought some farm property on the mainland and were planning on building a house someday and having a small farm. I told her this, and she asked if I would like to keep the dog. For me, this moment was better than winning the lottery. I was so happy that I just said “ yes, I would love to keep this dog”.

They met me on the farm property with Lucky’s collar and records. Lucky sat by my leg, head held high the entire visit. He did not want to even go over and say hello to his previous owners, or even give a good bye for that matter. I could tell that the kids scared him, and he would rather not have anything to do with them. I thanked the family for the bag of his belongings, we waved goodbye, and Lucky was now mine.

He was such a good dog, other than his peeing on Tom’s drill press, planer, shaper and panel saw. This peeing thing was quickly becoming a habit. I did not want to have to get the dog neutered but it looked as if this was one of the options for a problem like this. So-off to the vet he went, and amazingly it took care of the problem. Now he was the perfect dog. I fenced off 8 acres of the farm property and bought three cows. It didn't take him that long to figure out what his job was. I would see him get on his belly and glare at the cows. Transfixed, he would wait until just the right moment and then spring into action, nipping at cow’s ankles to get them to go in the direction of his choosing. The problem was, he was never really sure about the direction or where he was chasing them.  The cows would scatter and turn around and glare at him. He was in his element, and you could see him smiling. I had a friend who told me once that dogs didn't smile. I completely disagree. When a dog who is bred for a certain activity is doing it, you can see the happiness and self-worth spilling from their eyes and being. Their actions speak for themselves. It is art in motion.

Lucky and I were best friends. When I would go to work, I would take him with me. He would run around the house I was working on until he would find me and then stare at me all day. He was always watching me to make sure I wasn't in need of his services. If I showed any signs of distress, he would be there ready to help.  After work we would take a walk- or go for a bike ride. When I worked on the farm, Lucky was always with me. Rain or shine, wind or snow. He was my companion.  I found that he filled that emptiness inside me that Tom never could. I finally made the decision to end the dead end relationship with Tom. All I wanted was the dog and the property. I would need to buy Tom’s half of the investment at his price- which was not going to be easy- but for me freedom, living my truth, peace of mind and heart would be worth it. I would make it happen.

Buying him out cost me all of my savings and all of my material possessions. I had to take out a loan, which is not something I am proud of. Borrowing money is not something I like to do. I made sure that paying off the loan was my highest priority. In the state of Washington, you cannot build on your land if you don't own it outright. This is another reason I needed to pay off my debt. The process took three years of working seven days a week, and ten to twelve hours a day. I took every job that came my way, from washing windows, cleaning gutters, building decks, installing storm doors and painting.  Lucky was by my side the whole time. Never complaining and always willing. On the occasional day when I would have to leave him on the property, I would find little piles of dead yellow jackets left by the entrance to the trailer. He wanted to let me know he was doing his job while I was away.

We lived in our little fourteen -foot trailer for way too long. The bed was similar to a clam shell. The futon I had did not fit the frame I built causing the sides to go up the walls. I was so tired in those days that it didn't seem to matter if I was sleeping like a crescent roll. Lucky would curl up against my stomach and night after night we would just pass out. Oblivious to most hardships now, we were living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and aspirin. I started buying beef ribs at .98 cents a pound. Barbecued ribs became our nightly feast. Before long the yard looked like a bone yard. There were rib bones everywhere. Not having hot running water made doing dishes a nightmare -so I didn't. I had a picnic table outside that I used for cleaning and when winter came, everything would freeze to the table, my sponge included. Paper plates became a necessity.

At some point during the process of paying off the land and the desire to start building the house, I made a promise to Lucky that "some day we would live in a house"; we would be comfortable and not have to go to work seven days a week and endure this hardship". This promise helped me stay focused for the many years to follow. My promise to Lucky became a promise to myself.

A brilliant idea came to me one day in the trailer. I knew it was going to be hard trying to get a building permit because I was a woman, a first time builder with no experience, and had no money.  I realized I had to look at what I did have and work with that. My idea was to save up enough money to have the frame and roof of a pole building constructed by an official construction company, which required them to get a permit and have a final inspection on an "outbuilding".   I could take the foot print of the outbuilding, draw up some plans and submit them to the building department and requested a remodel permit for the outbuilding.  It worked. They approved my request. I also mentioned that I would be doing it in my own time without the use of a loan and inquired if that would be okay? They said yes, under one condition, that I could show progress every year. In other words don't be a quitter. Don't leave a half-finished project undone. I was thinking, "Not a chance".

I worked with my neighbor to convert her well into a class B water system which took some doing but was the easiest way to have water brought to the building. The Health Department was determined to make me wade through red tape and was continually changing the rules- I persevered. A lot of red tape and a diabolical “official” woman high on power were not going to stop me now. 

Now I had a roof and poles, water to the building and power. My remodel plans were approved and in hand. The creative fun was about to begin. I started to think of all the things I wanted in a house.  Since my feet are always cold, I thought in-floor heating would be a good idea. I started the research on what it would take to make this happen. I learned I would have to dig out 6 inches of dirt in all 864 sq. feet of floor. I laid out a grid with string so I knew how much dirt to dig and where. In my spare time I would grab the shovel and dig.  I had to save enough money to buy all of the materials for the flooring. In the year it took me to save the money for the floor project, I shoveled many cubic feet of dirt.  It connected me to the project, kept me out of trouble and saved me money on hiring a bulldozer and operator. 

This seemed to be the way things worked. Every year, I was able to save from $5000.00-$8000.00 dollars to contribute to house project. The first year, I put up the pole building: $5000. The second year, I put in the in floor heating, waste lines, water and concrete slab: $5000. The third year, I framed in the walls and put in the exterior doors and windows: $8000. The fourth year I did a trade with an electrician to wire my house if I painted his. That worked great. I also had my propane boiler and rough-in plumbing installed by a professional, which was another chunk of change.

I decided to fell a bunch of the sickly trees from the property which I milled into full dimensional lumber from a cutting list I created. I was able to make all of my beautiful siding, and all of the interior and exterior trim. This is a very time consuming process involving not only cutting the trees down, removing the branches, hauling the branches away, piling the logs up in a pile for the mill, cutting the logs into boards, then stacking, sweeping and stickering the wood. Stickering entails cutting hundreds of one inch pieces of wood and spacing them out every couple of feet down each board for proper air flow.  Then you must build a cover for the wood to keep it dry. After six months you must rotate, flip and sweep the boards again so they dry cleanly and evenly. I had cut thousands of board feet  of lumber and built an A frame drying tent  from some 2x6’s that I had milled up. It had a pallet floor (pallets are free) and used a blue tarp for a roof that was sixty feet long, twenty feet wide and ten feet high. Who needs the gym? This was a work out. Some of the boards were twenty five feet long. The amount of money I was saving by doing all of this was worth it.

While all of this was going on, I was still going to work every day of the week. There was never a moment in time when I wasn't in motion. Even my dreaming became a time of planning the next day or how the project was going to look. 

Then it was time to start framing in the interior walls and putting in the upstairs. I created a sky bridge and two lofts for the bedrooms. Of course, I was changing the plans as I went. I really wasn't thinking of what I had told the building dept. I just wanted to make it all work, and I was going with the flow. Ideas would come, and I would incorporate them.  I started putting the exterior siding on as well. The lumber was dry enough and I had it, so I did what I could with what I had.

Then came that frosty Martin Luther King morning, when I fell 24 feet installing the antenna. I broke my back, crushed my left ankle and broke my right heel. This not only made building my home difficult but made working difficult.

I took a job as a Nanny for two young kids while I healed. Taking care of kids was a whole new arena for me and almost sent Lucky and me over the edge. We were used to doing our own thing, no complaining, just the peacefulness of good hard work, solitary walks in the forest- just Lucky and me. Now, we had to deal with the needy child element and the disruption of the peacefulness that comes with that. I was aware of the Buddhist teaching s that state:” it is easy to be peaceful in the "cave" but journey out into the market place. If you can remain peaceful in a crowd, then you will truly know inner peace”. I could see I obviously need some work in this area. My fuse was short and Lucky’s was too. He started nipping at the kids, and I started getting very agitated. The pain factor was not helping. I knew I would have to heal quickly so I could get on with my life. My muse was demanding…

I was able to make some good money with the Nanny Job, and on the weekends was able to go home and dream. Lucky and I would do what we could. Just seeing the project and the progress made it that much more important that I heal quickly. The months seem to pass slowly, but finally I was strong enough to get back at it. I still needed to have a surgery on my ankle, but I booked a few paint jobs and found a great deal on some marble flooring- so I had work and another project to get me going. I had never laid a marble floor before, so I hit the books, bought a tile saw, some bags of mortar and went at it. Unloading the marble from my truck became the first challenge. Each package of twelve by twelve marble tiles weighed at least 50 lbs. I had to make a lot of trips jumping in and out of my truck to move the one ton of rock. My ankle gave out a few times and Lucky was right there to lick my face. He would look all concerned and worried but encouraging. I would get up and brush off the dirt and continue on. I worked on the kitchen floor in the evenings during the winter of 2001. Tile saws use water in the cutting process and are very wet and loud. I did all of the cutting outside under a makeshift tent in the snow. I have never been a fan of the cold, and I was glad when I finished the floor. It came out beautifully, and now I had one more skill to add to my ever increasing skill set.

I was not tooled up for building cabinets so for this I would need to save a lot more money. This would be the most expensive part of my plan. While I worked and saved, I had all of the wood stickered that I needed for the entire interior trim out in the drying tent. I set to work on the lumber pile and started the process of milling all of the lumber to the proper dimensions. I had to rip the boards on the table saw to size, send them send them through the planer to get the right thickness, give them an edge or two with the router then lots of sanding. I put four coats of a hand rubbed Swedish finish on the wood and then I pre-assembled all of the interior window and door packages. Before ordering the cabinets I would still have to buy and install the insulation, sheet rock and do the painting.  I would have to find time and money to buy the materials and squeeze that in somewhere.

Another year went by. Goal accomplished.  I met with the cabinet people and made a plan. It was winter again and these cabinets were going to be a very big Christmas present to myself. It was really nice to have someone else doing the work. I felt very spoiled. I had the wood stove going, giving the house a homey feel.  The "guys" carried and set the beautiful Douglas fir cabinets into place. The house was warm and dry and was now actually starting to feel like a house. This feeling was so exciting to me- it just drove me harder.  I bought some laminate for the counter-tops and installed it. I bought some sinks and a shower and installed them.  I had the plumbers back to hook up the boiler, and I had hot running water for the first time in 6 years. Talk about having something to be grateful for. I realized how I was taking hot running water for granted most of my life. It is such a luxury, especially if you have lived without it for a period of time.

Things were really looking up now. I had passed all of the building inspections to this point, and I had the biggest one to come-the final inspection or also known as the occupancy permit. I was already secretly sleeping in the house and using the trailer as a cover. Time came for the occupancy permit, I had to vacate the house and let the man from the building department give it his final approval. I have to admit that the all of the inspectors were very kind to me. They knew I was doing this project on my own and out of pocket and were very encouraging and impressed with what I was doing throughout the process and let me know it by being very lenient.

I passed the inspection with just a few "to dos", and I was clear to move in.  We still had a long way to go, but I told Lucky that after I was through with the paint job I was working on that we would take a break and just kick back and enjoy what we had done. We went for a long walk after work that day. Lucky was lagging behind. I wasn't sure what was up because he was always right next to me or out in front chasing away any potential threat. The next day we went to work as usual. I worked really hard to get the job finished. He watched from the yard while I was twenty five feet up painting someone else's trim. It always felt so good to have him there. When he was watching me I never felt alone. He was so loyal and I could tell he really loved me like only a dog could. He had melted my heart and I found myself loving this dog more than anything I had ever loved before. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

 After a long day, I finished the job. It was Friday, and it felt good to be loading up my gear, knowing a break was in store after many years of nonstop work. When we came home that night, Lucky started to cough. We went for our evening walk as usual, and he was lagging behind even more now. I started to get very concerned. I would have to call the vet in the morning and make an appointment. Maybe he needed some antibiotics for a chest infection? I went into the vet on Monday morning. She determined chest x-rays were in order. Lucky hated his trips to the vet. I had to help the vet. Techs get him on the x-ray table because he was trying to bite everyone. My proud dog was being held in between two plates for what seemed like forever. The look in his eyes was one of defeat. I was starting to lose it, but knew I would have to keep it together for Lucky.  After the x-ray, I put Lucky on the floor, and he ran for the door. I had him on a leash and explained to him that we had to wait for the results.

 I was called into the doctor’s office, and I could tell that she had some bad news. She said he had lymphoma in his heart and had less than a week to live at the most. WHAT! This can't be. I could not believe it. "The results must be wrong" I said. "There must be something that we can do".  She just shook her head and said, "I am sorry".  I hadn't cried in years and this opened the tap of unshed pain, sorrow, loneliness, struggle, determination, loss, and a deep grief I had been burying my whole life. I started to cry, and it seemed like the tears continued for a month even after Lucky was gone. I stopped doing anything that would take me away from my boy and stayed with Lucky until the end. The days passed slowly, as his condition quickly deteriorated. When I could tell he was beginning to suffer, we went out under the moon light and dug his grave. We dug it on the highest part of the property with the best view under my favorite maple tree. It was autumn and the fall colors were beautifully cast by the moon light.  That last evening with him was so peaceful. It was a harvest moon; the wind was gently blowing, whispering comforting caresses. I watched him as he watched me dig. He was always watching, even now when he could barely sit up.  I knew I was going to have to put him down the following day to relieve him of his pain. I had planned on the vet coming to the house and had made the appointment for the following afternoon.  This just seemed like too much time. I knew that I would have to do it in the morning. It was just too hard to watch him struggle to breathe.

My time with him would soon be over, and I thought about the irony of how I found Lucky, how he helped me achieve my dream and now, with a flash, he would be gone. My heart was so raw with sadness and gratitude for Lucky. He was my grounding force, my stability, and my reason to believe. He was my companion, my friend, my heart.

We stayed out under the moonlight all night and watched the moon set before we came in.

This day would promise to be the hardest day of my life. The choice to end the suffering of a being you love most in the world is a cruel but merciful deed. I made a little bed in the back of my truck and put Lucky on it. I had made all of his favorite treats that he was never allowed. When we got to the vets, I fed him little snacks while we waited for the vet to come out to the truck and give him his shot. I was able to tell him how much I loved him and how he helped me on my journey. How glad I was to have found him and how honored I was that he choose me to love. He was the best dog ever and that I would find him again someday. My eyes began a river of tears again. This was all too much. The vet was standing behind me and put her hand on my shoulder. I started weeping uncontrollably. I got up into the truck and put Lucky’s head in my lap. Stroking his head trying to comfort him as best I could, the vet said he would not feel a thing, and it would be over quickly. I felt like I was falling into an abyss. It was irrational, but there I was. Lucky and I looked into each other’s eyes one last time as I watched the medicine take effect.  The last thing I said to him was that "I would see again him soon". That was it. I was bawling. The vet waited for a while and said some nice things, but I was inconsolable.  I thanked her, and I shut the back of the truck and the end of an era. I drove back to my property barely able to see the road through my tears. I felt completely alone and empty. When a soul enters your life so completely, whether it is a human or an animal, I think the void of them leaving is so immense that time and space just stop. I felt like I had entered a silent chamber. I could hear my heart beating; I felt the tears falling and the pain of the separation. Never to look into his eyes again or have him stare at me for hours, or take our daily walks together through the forest, or eat beef ribs from the barbeque, or watch him as he chased  the cattle around. He was so much a part of my life and made up so many memories of the past ten years.

I pulled up next to the grave that we had dug the night before. I got out of the truck and opened the back. There he was, all peaceful and quiet. I could see no more suffering or pain. I wrapped him in his favorite blanket as a shroud. I picked him up reverently, and walked him down into the grave. This was no small hole. It was big enough for me to sit with him and to surround him with all of his belongings. I cried as I filled in the grave with dirt. Every shovel of earth held so much love and many tears. My heart was broken.

Time can be a gentle healer if you allow the process. I did over time begin to stop crying and allow my heart to heal. Slowly, I let other things fill the void that my Lucky dog had left behind. I started to connect with people, and started to do things that "normal" people do together. Now that my house was finished to the point of being comfortable, I could invite people over without being too embarrassed about my living situation. After all, I now had hot running water and all of the amenities that this civilization deems important to accept you into the folds. I found that even with all of this, I still preferred the quiet, simple life that Lucky and I shared. How can the heart ever let go of such a partnership with no expectations or demands, of such oneness, such love? My friends encouraged me to move on with life, get another dog, get another girl friend, go back to work. I have tried all of those things but my heart is still misses Lucky. I still feel him sitting across the room looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes.

As time goes by my heart is healing. I realize that I will love again. But, it will never be the same. We loved each other completely, with open hearts and a connection that we both needed at that time for whatever reason. It was beautiful, special and I feel blessed to have been so fortunate to have opened my heart so deeply to have felt Lucky and his gift of healing love.

 I am still feeling Lucky.