can I tell you about a star that fell to earth?
Lucy means Light - and one day, in 1996, a bright yellow star found its way to me.
It was a hot June day, and Birmingham was holding one of it's remarkable festivals - remarkable because despite the heat, these events take place - Doo Dah Day - a day when all the healthy animals at the shelter are brought out and cleaned up and fostered out for a couple of days - then they are put on parade.
in 1995, my then partner sbuxor had brought me a kitten - a fierce grey ball of cute and attitude - this had participated a move out of my charming but small apartment, and into a home i was renting from a friend. I had moved to a house, and that cute house with the fenced yard was perfect for a dog. Hence we were at Doo Dah Day to look at puppies. We were, as was our wont, late. The puppies were largely gone, and even the few kittens left were wilting in the heat.
We left the festivities and were making our way to our friend Lucy's (of Lucy's Coffee and Tea) we cut across a park and found ourselves at a pen full of bouncing dogs. These were the 'middle aged' dogs - between 6 months and a year - there were perhaps 5 dogs in the pen - a lab, a dalmatian, a yellow spitz, and others. The yellow dog took one look at me and barked. she climbed the fence and licked my hands. she dashed off, grabbed a stick in her mouth, and returned to me, barking and wagging and bouncing. I was touched, and a bit scared. This was a knot of pure energy with intelligent brown eyes, a muscular body and a quivering need to play.
I was ambivalent - and so we made to leave, but as we headed away, the handlers were letting another dog out - the yellow dog leap over the dog in her way and ran directly to me - leaping into my arms as I bent down to meet her. Three face licks and a giggle and it was a done deal. Suddenly i was a dog owner. More likely to say, i'd been selected.
I was told that she was a spitz basenji mix - perhaps some chow - her stiff outer coat and softer undercoat, her mobile ears and her demure tongue with black spots all seemed to say these things. She had a propensity to stand on her hind legs like a meerkat, and to yodel with delight when happy to see someone or when she spotted a treat - in those pre google days, i took this as truth.
So began my life with Lucy - named for our friend who ran the coffee house - and for her bright and irrepressible spirit.
She was a handful - so energetic and headstrong - she loved the yard - she loved chasing critters and barking and barking. She was so wired that she intimidated me - and it was only after a stern talking to from a neighbor that I started obedience classes. This proved to be crucial - establishing me as boss. Daily walks and romps in the dog park brought the energy level down, and after her spay we built a strong relationship.
She was my little yellow star who lit the world for me.
She got me out of the house and into life - through her i met my future husband Tim. At the dog park, i met my neighbors and built really important friendships, like my friend John who became a great mentor to me. Through weekends with John and his dog Monty and Lucy, I rediscovered my love of the outdoors - the fall on Ruffner mountain, the wonder of a thunderstorm in Crestwood. Monty was a Doberman - and I swore for years that she was convinced she was a big strong dog - and not a little scrapper pup.
We tried agility classes, but it was a bit too much - Lucy was very dominant towards other dogs, especially females - mounting and humping them - to both amusement and chagrin. she did master all the basic commands, and managed a few tricks of her own - in her youth, she was a terrific frisbee dog - often outracing and snatching discs from unsuspecting aussie shepherds.
I see now that Lucy was most likely a Shiba Inu - an old and venerable dog breed from Japan. She was a compact, strong dog - and when I moved to Maryland in 2000, I discovered she loved cold weather. Indeed she loved nothing more than romping in the snow - she'd race around the yard for hours in the flakes, then curl up on the snow for a quick nap - perfectly happy.
Lucy got me out of the house in Rockville - warnings from the vet that she was fat, and warnings from my doc that I was fat led to walks, then jogs, then actual running - much of my first marathon mileage was because Lucy loved a nice run with Dad. Later, she would run with Doug.
Lucy was fiercely loyal, and protective - people yelling or jumping around me would get barked at, or even nipped. Even as her eyesight faded and her alertness dropped, she would growl and bark at suspicious persons. There's a worn line of Lucy path in our back yard as she would follow the postman from side to side of the house.
She would do anything for me - rarely complaining, only occasionally moping - For Santa Lucia Day, we dressed her up in a labcoat and candle crown. She had endless nicknames - Fluffer nutter, Luciavitch, loopahgenia, farfenoogle, She was not, on balance, a cuddly dog - but if my mood were less than bright, she'd rub against me, snuggle and kiss, and then sit nearby where she could see me. She always wanted to know where i was. let her in from outside, she'd patrol the house until she found me. She would work a party until she'd begged all she could (or all I would let her) and then she'd sit on the edge, watching the crowd.
She enjoyed outside most of all - walking free with me and the rest of her family - rock creek park, lake needwood, the anacostia watershed behind our neighborhood - all these places were treasures to her - she'd gallop down the trail to start a visit, and would stand at the entrance loathe to leave.
Lucy was a robust dog - healthy and hale - which made her decline shocking and distressing - even at 14 years she'd race around the house, dragging her tribble toy over for a tussle. When she had trouble walking and began wetting the floor and not eating - I knew something was really wrong. I count it as a small blessing that her decline was swift - and I could not let her linger in such a state. She rallied twice after the nights in the hospital - but last weekend when she just lay in her bed, refusing food and water, I knew she was done.
Her soft eyes and ever so slight tremble seemed to be asking me to return her to the light.
And so i held her one last time, her soft ears brushing my neck as she relaxed into a final sleep,
her body suddenly tiny and breathtakingly beautiful.
And so my child,
My Lucy,
My Light,
I bid you au revoir.
You chose me that day, and I struggled to be worthy of such a great spirit.
You changed me.
You changed my life.
You brought me light, and love and laughter.
Thank you for trusting me
Thank you for the days outside
Thank you for the quiet times
Thank you for the gentle nudges and happy growls
I have met Presidents and Astronauts,
I have known Nobel Laureates and great thinkers,
I have known humans wise and foolish
Judges, doctors, teachers and students
Few creatures on earth have touched me so deeply or completely as you
Thank you for sharing your light with me
You will always be my beloved Lucy
