The night before I had had a curious dream. I was at a house with a few girls that I had spent the last week or so with and the house was a combination of all these houses I knew. In the backyard, in the early morning, I was playing with this big, white dog. In my dream, it was my childhood dog Rolly. In my dream, she was tall and strong and energetic. She was chasing a bright green tennis ball around the healthy, grassy field. There was a playground with kids in the background. It was glorious, but it was cold. I woke up the morning after that dream thinking if I had already seen Rolly for the last time.
Rolly has been my family's dog since I was five. We had lived in Carmel Valley for about a year at that point, leaving San Francisco behind. That summer my mom, my sister and I went to Seattle to visit my grandparents for a week my dad stayed back in California. When the three of us got back from Seattle and were settled in the car, my dad proclaimed that he had a surprise for us before we headed back to Carmel Valley. As we headed towards Daly City my sister and I franctically guessed what the surprise could be.
On the other side of the phone, Andrea actually sounded pretty calm. She told me that she could not get a hold of my mom because she was in conferences all day and did not know who else to call. Rolly was on the deck, shaking with blood coming from her mouth and would not get up. Andrea, the best friend a girl could ask for, had no idea what to do. Neither did I. We decided that she should try and pick Rolly up and take her to the vet. I called my sister and let her know what was going on. And then left a voicemail for my mom. Next, was Casey. That is when I lost it. I could not control myself and he could not understand what I was saying. I did not know how to explain to him that although Rolly is still alive at this point, I know that she is going to be dead within the next twenty four hours and I could not explain to him why I knew that or why I was so sure about it. I just knew that it was happening at the worst time and I just needed him to listen to me and be there for me. We said good-bye.
Rolly was one of the smartest dogs that I have ever encountered. One time, we took her to the vet and the assistant placed Rolly in a small, locked kennel. The assistant went back to her desk, sat down, and suddenly turned around. Rolly was standing behind her, wagging her tail with her head cocked to the side. Another time, my family went out of town and left Rolly with some friends. She escaped out of a chicken coop and was runnng home on Carmel Valley before they no
That gray Saturday morning turned into a long, emotional day in Seattle. I tried to keep it together unti

My denial continued until recently when a few particular stories brought me out of my funk. The first: I used to go boogie boarding on Carmel Beach. When I would catch a wave and ride to shore, Rolly would come running at me through the waves and lick my face and run back to the beach as I paddled back into the water. Which reminded me of the second story: One day after a storm my family went to the River Beach in Carmel. It was the time of year where the river actually flowed into the water and Rolly jumped into the water, after seeing a dog on the other side of the river. She was quickly swept out into the mouth of the river and could not swim against the currents. We sat helplessly on the beach. I was freaking out, bawling. This story ends with my dad holding on to the end of a kayak and rescuing Rolly and helping her on to the other side of the river's shore. And then there were those times that we walked to Safeway and I tied her up outside while I went in, and she would bark occasionally. Of course, there was also the time that Rolly and I were chasing one another around the house and we ran through a closed screen door. The stories could continue to flow, but no matter what I find myself at the same spot: mourning over a pup that was a symbol of my childhood, a part of my family and a friend.
2 comments:
I love you. Rolly is kicking it with Jesus now.
and I love you.
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