A New Beginning by Sally Stap

The crisp winter air burned my nostrils as I headed out for a walk in the woods. What was I doing, heading out in 25F degree weather?  Ever since waking that morning, I’d felt compelled to visit my favorite walking place to get some clean air and a good dose of nature. I shivered despite multiple layers of clothing that rendered me with a somewhat rigid gate. The path was familiar, near my home, where I had treasured nature and the company of my dog for many years.

The thought of Woodrow made my throat tighten. My trusty lab had crossed the rainbow bridge after sharing his long, but too-short life, with me. My constant companion had fallen to the inevitable – old age. This was the first time back in the woods after saying goodbye through spilling tears two months earlier. For some reason, on this cold day, I found the strength and desire to get off my couch for interaction with the unforgiving yet marvelous world we live in.

My life had frozen since saying goodbye to Woodrow. Deadlines for writing had come and gone. Words would not come. My studio was as dry as my exhausted, cried out eyes. I had no energy or inspiration for painting, something that had always brought me joy as I created beauty from the chaos of color and pattern combinations. Unfinished novels languished on my computer’s c: drive as I lost creativity. Taking time to go for a walk was a well needed push to live again.

It was a pristine winter day. I remember the bright sun reflecting off snow, giving the earth bejeweled look. The sky was glacier blue, frozen in one motionless shade of cold. The trees were stripped of leaves, reaching into the sky with barren branches.

I warmed up as I walked along, gaining confidence and steadiness, lost in thought. As much as the world displayed beauty, my heart was heavy. Walking alone was foreign and, well, lonely. The forest was peaceful even as I was not. I helplessly stepped forward in snow and life, feeling a twinge of guilt at moving further from the past, needing to embrace the unknown of the future. I shook my head, determined to enjoy the day with each squeak of snow as my boots stepped forward. A welcome return of creativity flourished as words started forming in my mind to describe the crunch of snow and the smell of pine and wood.

I reached my favorite spot in the woods, greeted by a familiar tree that was unique in the midst of the forest. Trauma had caused it to grow crooked at some point in its young life, leaving a sharp left and right turn in the trunk, before it stretched high into the sky. Barren of leaves, the branches allowed warmth from the sun to reach the forest floor. The same branches that fanned broad leaves in the heat of summer. I stopped and put my hand on the tree, appreciating its message of perseverance. Words started to flow in my mind to describe its angle, bark, and strength. I breathed.

I heard a yelp. I stood, and listened, trying to find the source of an unexpected noise that had interrupted my solitude. I heard it again – there was no mistaking it now. It sounded like a wounded animal. Oh boy, not a good idea to enter the brush to encounter a possibly crazed critter.

The bushes moved near me, and I stared. A tiny dark puppy crawled out of a pile of contrasting brilliant snow. A puppy?  It was high stepping through the snow as it saw me and seemed grateful to find another living being in the vast, cold forest.

“Hi guy,” I bent down as the puppy scurried into my arms, yelping with each bounce as he hurried to cross the distance between us.

He was tiny. His nose was black, his fur black and brown, covering everything but a pink, fuzzy belly. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

I unzipped my jacket and tucked him into my layers. He wiggled and poked his head through the neck opening. He snuggled my skin, whimpering and sniffing for food.

“Wow. I guess I know why I came to the woods today. Let’s go get you warmed up and fed.” Once I managed to zip my jacket so his body was swaddled and his nose tight against my neck, he quieted and settled in.

I walked back out of the woods quickly. I kept looking around, puzzled by not seeing his mother or other puppies. No living creatures were to be seen, human or other. Just me and this tiny little shivering baby had found each other – both lost in the woods.

At home, I started to shed layers, even as I continued to cradle the tiny pup, shifting him from hand to hand. For the first time, I looked him over. He was healthy, thick coated, but young. His teeth were pearly white and razor-sharp. I got some chicken from the fridge and broke it into tiny pieces for him. He growled as he dug into the feast. “Hey, don’t talk while you eat!”  I chuckled as I sat on the floor next to him.

His belly full, he crawled up on my lap and fell fast asleep. There we sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, me afraid to move and him dead to the world, content. My heart was warm, and instantly full with his company. I felt my heart quickly discarding layers of sadness.

I took him to the vet, who told him he was lucky to have me as an owner. It was unclear what breed he was because he had the characteristics of many. However, his large paws foretold his future size. His tiny little ear tabs predicted floppy doggy ears.  His fur was dense and wolf-like. We estimated him to be barely 6 weeks old.

I watched the neighborhood for lost puppy signs. Admittedly, I didn’t watch too hard. It was clear that the tiny little puppy who I named Link was meant to reconnect my empty heart to the beauty of the present and the possibilities of the future. I never learned of his beginning, but granted him a joyful and somewhat spoiled life.

Life began again. Words flowed as he curled up in my lap while I typed. The memoir I had been writing began moving forward from its stalled and electronic dusty place. Words rushed onto the page. Colors flowed in my artist heart and spilled onto canvas.

Time passed, and Link’s legs seemed to grow overnight until he was tall enough to put his head on the counter, which I strongly discouraged. Link and I were inseparable as we trained, walked, and traveled together. We were as tight as Velcro. Before long, we reached what we had chosen as his first birthday and I thanked him for coming into my life. With head cocked sideways, his eyes penetrated mine and the warmth of his kindness and trust brought healing to my soul. “My book is published, Link, and I thank you for that.”

Vacation time came, and I reluctantly left Link for a trip with friends.  I left very detailed instructions with my pet sitter and headed to the airport.  My lifelong dream came true as I saw my book on display in the airport bookstore, Life Lessons From Our Pets.  I stood to the side and soaked up the moment.

Two ladies stepped between my subtle surveillance spot and the books. One lady picked up my book, which felt delightful yet awkward.  “Oh my, this book, Judy – you’ve got to read it.”  She opened it and shared with her friend, continuing, “I picked up this book and couldn’t put it down. She shared stories about her pets that I so related to.  It made me realize how important animals are to so many of us. That’s when I adopted Winchester. Listen to this introduction:

“Some people say animals don’t have souls, but for anyone who has had a precious pet we know they are each unique. Each has its own quirks. Each has its own way of showing love. “How can you love without a soul?” is one of many questions I have for God when I get to heaven. Maybe they do have souls — it’s just that man has specific control of his soul’s destiny. Perhaps they have spirits that differ from souls. I can’t imagine a heaven without animals. God cares about every sparrow on earth, so how could they vaporize upon death?”

Wow.  To hear someone else reading my words.  I relished the feeling of someone connecting with my words, and slipped away, and headed to my gate with a spring in my step.  There was no feeling in the world like sharing words from my heart. Wonder what I’d write next.