Things change
That's just how my life has been recently. I'm not a mafia boss, nor am I on anyone's hit list as far as I know, but I do feel some connection with this character due to the way events have unfolded in the past week. There is a sense of the presence of some high-powered devotion and protection.
Things that have been completely beyond my control, or even my wildest dreams, have transpired this week.
Just when you think you know what's happening, there's a strange turn of events; or, as my friend Donna says, "you make plans and then life happens."
My dear, sweet dog companion of 13 years had been limping for a couple of years and I recognized at last that he could not make another long journey like the one we both made last summer when we moved from California to Sweden. There were other health issues and it seemed the time had come to say goodbye. I've never had a dog before but in talking to others it became apparent that it's rare for a dog to just pass away peacefully at home. Maybe it's because they are so devoted to their owners that dogs just won't leave them, no matter how old and ill they are, or how much they are suffering. It's a bit of a cliche that dog is man's best friend, but how true that is in the case of Monty and I.
When I was a child I knew I was supposed to have a dog. I was just convinced of it, yet we didn't have a dog. Why? I wondered. When I grew up it took a long time before I was in a situation where a dog might be a possibility. Perhaps there's never a perfect time, just like having children. With the children my husband was in agreement and just as keen to have them as I was. It was another story with the dog. He was not interested. It was too much of a bind, commitment and expense. Very true, who could argue with that? But if your life feels incomplete without a dog, logic is thrown out of the window.
So, on a rainy Good Friday in April 2006, I brought a small, 4-month old, Finnish Spitz puppy home to our house in Lompoc. No-one else in the family had been involved in the decision. Some people were a bit miffed, understandably, that they had not been consulted, or allowed to choose the type of dog. Why a Finnish Spitz? Why not a rescue pup from the pound? I just can't answer these questions, valid though they are. When I saw Monty and he saw me, it was love at first sight and I just couldn't leave him in the house in Los Osos where he was surrounded by lots of other Finnish Spitz family members but was the last puppy remaining in the litter and seemed hell bent on getting out of there.
His puppy name was "Blue," because he wore a blue collar. Naturally Ella did not find this to be a suitable name for this cute rascal with a white star on his chest, his heart chakra. So he was promptly renamed "Monty Sven Anderson."
In his new home and family Monty caused chaos initially. He bit and chewed on shoes, table legs and people. He was scared to death of the TV and would rather be alone than join us watching it. He wasn't interested in food, chewing a piece of furniture seemed much more satisfying. When we went out for walks all Monty wanted was to run hell for leather. The first time I dared to let him off the leash he ran like the wind, off into the distance. Friends who visited remember this stage in Monty's life, perhaps not altogether fondly. He would jump up and his sharp claws tore off Ella's friend Maddie's shorts! Oh dear, would Monty ever become a civilized member of the family? I took him to puppy training classes in Lompoc and gradually he began to grow up and settle down.
Monty had to spend time alone while we were at work and school, amazingly he didn't seem to mind. I was quite worried initially as many people had told me dogs don't like to be alone. We had a serious health scare at the age of 6 months when he was diagnosed with Parvo virus, even though he had been vaccinated against it. It was touch and go for about a week whether he would survive or not and Ella and I drove back and forth to the Emergency Vet Clinic in Arroyo Grande a couple of times one crucial weekend to get him vital subcutaneous fluids. We were so relieved when the danger had passed and we knew that Monty would live, he was deeply embedded in our hearts by this time.
Summer of 2007 saw important visitors to our home in Lompoc. My cousin Bodil, her husband Per and their three sons Oskar, Anton and Simon came from Sweden. With them we made a trip to the Santa Cruz back country and Monterrey and drove home down Highway 1. Monty came with us, his first vacation! At that time we didn't know that both our daughters would graduate from University of California Santa Cruz. Lili's graduation is on June 15th this year.
The following year saw big changes in the Talkin family. Our marriage of 19 years was over and one thing no-one could disagree with Erik about was when he stated firmly, "he's your dog."
Monty, the children and I moved into a rented house on Oak Hill Drive, Lompoc, where Monty could frolic to his heart's content on the big, sloping, green lawn and bark at the golfers on the course beyond the fence. One of the regular golfers was Stephen Malone, our dear friend and neighbor from the house we lost in Providence Landing where we had a huge mortgage. Stephen, who played golf most days, would chat to Monty through the fence and so when I was at work and the children were at school Monty was not lonely. Other important friends on Oak Hill Drive included a huge Great Dane who would come visit Monty and walk in to the sitting room through the big glass doors and surprise Ella doing her homework!
Monty lived alone when the children and I would go to England and Sweden for 4 or 5 weeks each summer. Friends and neighbors would come in twice each day to feed and walk him. Nadya, Stephen, and later the children's friends have all helped out with Monty while we have been away. All of them grew very fond of the little chap.
Then in 2010 there was another move and of course Monty came too. Nadya and Chris were relocating to Santa Barbara but keeping their house in Lompoc until the market improved and so it seemed like a win win for me to rent it. It was a huge house with an enormous garage studio that Felix and his friends took over for art projects and socializing. There were some dubious horticultural projects going on in there too, long before Lompoc became the cannabis capital of the Central Coast, that caused me quite a few headaches and worries. But the water polo team were good boys and they made 51 Aldebaran Ave their HQ. Monty was an honorary member of the team.
They say never rent from friends and that is a good maxim to live by. After suffering through major plumbing upheavals at that house we moved with some relief on my part to Constellation Road, a smaller, more manageable house in a convenient location for Cabrillo High School. By now it was just Lili, I and Monty at home, with Felix in Oakland and Ella in Berkeley.
Monty took all these moves in his stride, as long as he was with us he was happy.
Ever since the early days I took long walks with Monty on the glorious Burton Mesa Chaparral, a huge nature preserve in Lompoc. Monty could wander off leash and would always come back to me. As the years went by his pace slowed and he didn't wander away as much.
By 2018 Lili was in her Senior year at UCSC and I decided to spend at least a year in Sweden. Monty was 12 and suffering from stiff joints and muscles. He was prescribed pain killers by the Vet but the homeopathic remedies helped the most. After Rhus Tox and Symphytum 30c he would suddenly have another spurt of life and trot along like the old days. But could he make the journey to Sweden? Would it be fair on him to put him through it?
Part Two follows tomorrow...
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