These are the dark days of July, yes, my favorite month can have them. It’s as if I am surrounded by a burning heat, like a bonfire that emanates a burning warmth that is highly uncomfortable. It’s been too hot to even step inside the forest at Watchung Reservation. The heat penetrates through the protective canopy of interlocking leaves as if they were not even there. The direct sunlight moves one to faint or have a migraine as if it is not even safe to be outdoors. To be so warm outside is to be a prisoner of distasteful air-conditioning that makes this artificial odious thing as artificial air appear as something good and comfortable and even necessary.
The dogs don’t seem to mind this artifice, and they are borzoi. They stretch themselves out full length in it, finding the coolest spot under an air vent and then don’t move for hours. One would expect more of them but no, there they are, lolling around in it, being cool. I am full of disdain and despair because I am no better really.
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I am living the life in retirement I dreamed of and I am very grateful. It almost did not happen. My husband died four years ago, reminding me how fragile life is and how close to home a tragedy can strike. I myself struggled with breast cancer last year, again driving home the comprehension of the degree to which good health is a gift to one’s life. I spend more time than usual “resting” and doing things that I enjoy that are very calming to me. These include watching the movies on Turner Classic Movies (TCM), and reading. I also spend seemingly endless amounts of time sending messages to people via email and Facebook. The companionship of my now two borzoi, especially the recent surprise gift of Tresor’s return to me, completes my picture of happiness for me so much so that I have achieved a new level of it perhaps never before experienced, something quite new and wonderful. I felt silly in therapy this morning talking to my doctor about Tresor, describing everything he has done over the past week as if he were a growing baby.
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With his trainer and my boyfriend this morning, I demonstrated Tresor’s ability to stack and move. His movement reflects his beautiful conformation, that being, he is a very correct borzoi. His faults lie elsewhere, alas, there is no perfect dog. Most of all, he demonstrates the joy and sweetness he had so much of as a youngster. I top off the fun by taking endless photos with my cell phone, a skill to which I came late.
I contacted the woman who was our handling instructor at St. Hubert’s Dog Training School in Madison NJ after a hiatus of four years, N30. I called tentatively, not knowing if she would remember me, or what to expect. How wrong I was. My call was greeted with great enthusiasm. She remembered me and said she thought of me all the time – something I found so amazing. Well, I thought about her, too, if truth be told. She was a very significant person in my life. Tresor performs beautifully in the show ring, and she is a huge part of that reason. Also, I handle very well myself now, thanks to her. However, I do not handle due to my age and underlying medical conditions that would make it hard for me. It takes strength and stamina in great measure to handle a large dog, especially to show a big boy like Tresor. I think my boyfriend, who adores Tresor, may want to do it for me.