Lycanthropy Part II (The 3rd Installment)
Updated: Jan 26
Black, grey, and tan are beautiful colors for a little canine boy. My home is complete. Pandora, my chihuahua daughter and Damiana, Mac Mac (Mactown Jones), and Lycan, my three shih tzu children. We are a family – the four of them, each a universe of love. My roommate, Chris, my best friend – he loves the canine kids with every bit of his heart, and he is so good with them. Lycan’s coat consists of wispy tans, muted greys, and a piercing shade of black – and he is beautiful.
Every early evening, after I return home from work, Lycan and I have “Porch Puppy” time. He and I sit on the concrete slab in front of our small (8 units) apartment building greeting people, many of them with their dogs, as they pass us on their way to the nearby park. Lycan greets the people with the same enthusiasm as he greets other dogs. Lycan loves everyone and everything – and he, unapologetically, cannot contain his excitement. Lycan is happiness.
As a young boy, in summer, I’d occasionally pick dandelions out of the ground in the front yard. I’d separate them from their roots - removing them from the area they considered home, raise them into the air and blow their seeds, their descendants, in accidental directions. Then I’d throw their remains, their stems, their bodies, onto the ground, where they would shrivel and soon join the earth below. I didn’t fully understand and realize the amazing nature and value of dandelions until many years later.
It’s early Autumn, 2013, and Lycan is occasionally bumping into walls. I first noticed this during a high-spirited play session with he and his schnauzer friend Toby and then, over the next few weeks, recognized this behavior more frequently. He’s sitting next to me now, peacefully, his tongue slightly out of his mouth, as happens naturally so often. I’m on the phone with the veterinarian making an appointment. ______________
Diary entry, October 14th, 2013. Lycan is going blind and it’s happening quickly. The specialist recommends eye surgery. It’s $5,100 and I’m going to get it. I don’t know how, but I’m going to get it. My beautiful boy will not lose his sight. I will not allow it. I’m putting all of my collectibles on eBay tomorrow to be sold. And I’m selling the furniture – Chris doesn’t know it yet. I’m looking at the want ads to get a second job. My boy will not lose his sight.
Diary entry, October 23rd, 2013. I’ve sold all of my collectibles and now have $2,400 with change. Chris won’t let me sell the furniture. I’ve called my lender and asked them to repossess my car. I will get $5,100 and my boy will not go blind.
Diary entry, October 25th, 2013. I can’t put it in writing how, but I have the money. I’ve called the specialist and surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, December 15th at 10:00 am. They’re going to fix him. He won’t go blind. ______________
And Lycan never went blind ______________
It’s important to pay attention when walking through a field of dandelions. Every stem is intensely fragile.
Just over the ridge of the distant mountains I watch as the recently light blue sky becomes a darker shade. I see blackening clouds slowly advance in my direction and my worsening headache predicts rain. Hints of orange and red slither slowly down from the mountain top and I cannot see the source of these colors. They don’t belong in this painting – their hues are vile - and they are fast approaching. I am scared. No – I am terrified.
Orange and red are dangerous and violent colors.
The fields of dandelions are screaming, and I cannot block out the sound.
To be continued…