Ten Things I have Lost

8/7/2019 Ten Things I have Lost

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/ten-things-i-have-lost 1/3

Ten Things I have Lost

I lost my nerve straddling the threshold of opportunity unable to conjure a vision of

success more substantial than my doubts.

I lost my way, drifting so far away; others had to love me home.

I lost my patience into fragmented expectations broken against a world I did not choose.

I lost my ambition as I aged into waning possibilities and diminishing energy.

I lost my innocence slipping past the needs of others toward my own gratification.

I lost my authority over my children as they individuated into self-authorizing beings.

I lost my momentum as I became entangled in property, creditors and relationships.

I lost my mind, willing to trade individuality for cosmic consciousness only to lose my

grip on the frayed end of coherence.

I lost my faith in the quicksand of reasonability.

I lost my childhood dog, a wolf-husky hybrid, one of a litter of four brought down from

Alaska by a bush pilot. My memory of Wolf’s arrival is primordial in my life. I do not

remember a time before Wolf.

Outside the home Wolf would hunt mountain beavers and other small mammals,disemboweling them on the front lawn as a display of his courage and cunning. Inside

the home Wolf was a caregiver. My mother claimed that the dog taught my little sister

to walk as she hung onto Wolf’s pelt toddling around the house.

If I got too close to the busy street in front of the house, Wolf would block my way and

knock me on my butt with a snout to the chest until I veered off my course and played

closer to the house.

Wolf was part nanny and part guard dog. When my parents opened the top half of the

French front door to check on an uninvited prowler, Wolf lunged chest-high over and the

bottom half to drive the intruder away. My sense of security was such that I expected to

wake up to a disemboweled human form in the morning. I don’t know the outcome of

the Wolf/Trespasser encounter other than to say that Wolf returned unharmed. Wolf not

only trained my sister to walk but, taught lessons on tenderness, courage and

boundaries.



In my seventh summer, we moved from a house next to the woods in Edmonds, to an

urban lot in Spokane. I was told that Wolf would not be happy in the city. I had no

problem imagining Wolf happy in our new home and yard but my parents had decided

that Wolf would be placed with a family who lived on a farm where Wolf would have

plenty of room to run and play. They reasoned that Wolf would be happy on the farm. I

wasn’t happy and cried into Wolf’s furry neck when I said my good-byes.

And then we were off to a new home. I felt cheated when we moved into a house with a

big back yard which I thought would be ample room for Wolf. But, the decision was

made and my family moved, minus the dog.

The next summer we came back to the wet-side for a family visit. My parents had

arranged a reunion with Wolf and we all drove out to the farm to see the dog.

All of us were very excited about the visit. As we drove up the gravel drive I expected to

see Wolf bound out of the house toward the car, but the farmhouse was still. Wewalked up to the door, which opened to a living room filled with another family. Strange

children sat protectively surrounding a dog that looked just like Wolf.

We entered the room with smiles and greetings of “Hello Wolf!” The dog did not leap to

us, but lay in the middle of the other children looking cautiously at us with a sideways

glance. Wolf did not move towards us even when we called across the room, “Come

here Wolf!”

Finally the other father had to lead Wolf over to our family. We petted Wolf who stood in

an obedient statuesque pose without showing any obvious signs of recognition. I

thought it possible that this was not Wolf but a littermate and that my parents had

secretly put Wolf down.

My mother asked, “Isn’t this great to see Wolf again?”

I put on a fake smile and said, “Sure.” I was watching her eyes for a sign that she

understood how horrible this reunion had gone. But, my mother’s fake smile was

always better than mine..

The visit was over and we drove back to town after sundown. I remember the hollow

emptiness the reunion had wrought. I remember thinking that if Wolf could forget about

me, so could my parents. I never felt more alone.

If I had been familiar with concurrent continental philosophy I would have understood

Sartre and Schopenhauer. I had been betrayed. My dog, a full member of our family,

had all but forgotten me in favor of a new family.



Documents

Ten Things I have Lost