It's been three years since Bonni Blue officially left the existence we shared. Writing "officially" is somewhat of a misnomer since she still trots in and out of my daily life, letting those she has known, the power of her love. If you are not a believer of the here, what or why after, most of this will sound like a bunch of hooey. If you do believe that we all go somewhere after we die, you may still think it's a hoax. Belief is a big stupid lie to one person and to an other a spiritual truth.
It took over six months after Bonni died for me to sense her presence when she would show herself. I have yet to decide if that's because she was giving me time to let go of her form or if I was too emotional to feel or see anything other than grief. Most pet owners understand the type of loss Bonni's death incurred, for those who don't I'll try to explain. Before we hit the fertility jackpot of twins we found Bonni at the Baltimore animal shelter and she filled all our empty spaces. I understand when people say that animals aren't the same as humans, because they have some things we don't. There are trainers who think the sole motivating factor for a dog showing affection for an owner is the possibility of food and shelter. But looking at dogs as parasites is missing an important point. Volunteering at an animal shelter, I have found dogs to have a capacity for love we humans find magnificently difficult. A dog will love you even if you stop feeding him, make him sleep out in the rain and even if you smack him with a 2 by 4. In truth, a dog will lick your hand while you give her the injection that will put her to death. This last part I know from personal experience. Bonni showed me true love and I have committed the rest of my life to loving as she loved. I hope my best can match hers.
It crops up unexpectedly, the smell of dog poop. My love teacher shows her ghost self with the smell of shit. The fumes of a big pile representing a beautiful spirit is irony at its best. I'll be out bike riding down a long empty path or through an asphalt parking lot and the perfume of excrement will envelop me, traveling with my two wheeler a half mile or so, reaching into my smell memory until I find Bonni. Incredibly the vapor of dog poop will transpire in a vacuum sealed auto barreling down the highway accompanied by "Soul Sister" on the radio. This song by Train appears to be my dog sister's way of communicating with me if the pungent smell doesn't grab my attention.
Were these experiences only to happen to me, I would guess that the time was approaching for checking myself into crazy town. But my formerly alive pet reaches out via poop odor with a wide range of my acquaintances including my husband, a book club friend and a couple of my clients who have shared surprising stories of the smell during a session or on their way home from my office. Usually Bonni visits me during periods of of emotional chaos; when it seems like I'm grasping at tenuously thin fibers to hang onto my balance or when I question all that IS.
Bonni Blue appears from time to time to remind me of the love she offered for free. She is a talisman of the spiritual root at the core of my life. This magnificent dog showed me the path to God. Some would believe that touting a dog as a method to find heaven is sacrilege. I think whatever opens the window to the other side is a blessing. Was she just a dog? Am I just a human? We are many things she and I, some as simple as what we look like and others are beneath the surface shimmering in the light.