The spirited butterfly danced and rested in the celosia windows, visible just over the screen of my laptop. White flowers still floated in the water filled food bowl next to the back door. An altar and remembrance. Next to my office chair the soft red rug was bare. Empty. Frida laid on the couch in her favorite place as was her custom. But now her eyes were downcast. She seemed not to be listening for new sounds. It had been only 24 hours and the absence of Seurat was visible everywhere in my house.

For fifteen years Seurat had been my most trusted, most constant companion. No one else – from parrots and dogs to people had been so close and consistent in my life. Because I worked at home my animal family was with me day and night and it turned out that Seurat, who came to me in 2002 became the longest living fellow housemate.

Livvie was my first dog in New Mexico. She was a beautiful German Shepherd who was rescued by three women in the nearby village of Ojo Caliente after they noticed her mistreatment and abandonment. Though I hadn’t thought I wanted a dog, I could not say no to this beautiful dog that simply asked to be loved. And in return she became my dearest companion. When I noticed that she was slowing down I decided that it would be good for her to have another dog to play with. I decided that I would rescue another from the local Dog Shelter, just down the Upper San Pedro road. I thought about the kind of dog I wanted and knew that a dog I always favored was the Welsh Corgi breed. Little chance of finding anything that pedigreed in Española, New Mexico. This Low Rider capitol of the country held a definite preference for Rottweilers, Pit Bulls and Chow Chows. I smiled thinking about what I might find at the Shelter.

When I walked in that morning I liked the woman behind the counter and immediately I asked her if she had, by any chance, a Welsh Corgi. She laughed. And then she said, “Well, we may have something ‘Corgiesque’, which made me smile at the thought of perhaps a short legged and long haired little dog. I followed her through the door into a long hallway between wired enclosed kennels holding various groups of barking dogs. Big dogs, small dogs and it appeared some dogs isolated from the others. We stopped at the closed door of a kennel containing about a dozen small dogs, all yipping and pawing at the wire. Then the woman pointed back to the far corner and said, ‘There…”   I looked to see a smallish dog sitting alone, watching. The dog appeared to be a full sized dog with exceptionally short legs which was why he was singled out as ‘Corgiesque’. Black and white spotted with a mostly black face, droopy black ears and the recognizable mottled fur pattern of the Blue Heeler breed. He was obviously a mix and his other half was likely Bassett hound or Beagle – kind of a very short statured medium sized dog. He looked at me, raised his head and uttered one long, lonely sounding howl. All the barking stopped and I said, “I want to see that dog.” The response of the woman changed from a smile to concern as she uttered a warning. He was considered to be non-social and had evaded the local dog catcher for a couple of years. She went on to say that he was prone to growling and there was concern that he would bite though so far he had not. I listened and looked again more deeply into the sad eyes still watching me. “I would like to see him more closely and to see how my dog at home gets along with him.” Reluctantly, the woman agreed that if I came back with my dog, they would bring this dog out on a leash to see how the two reacted to each other. A few hours later both leashed dogs were together in an outdoor enclosure. Nose to nose Livvie seemed rather nonchalant, even kind of disinterested. But the little spotted dog was ecstatic, jumping around and quite excited about Livvie. As I held his leash he was also responsive to me. The sadness I’d seen across the kennel had disappeared and I found myself even more interested in this dog. Still, unless Livvie showed interest I was not inclined to pursue further. I told the woman that I wanted to come back the next day to see how they would react to each other. She then told me that the little dog was scheduled to be ‘put down’ the next day. Immediately I asked that he be held for one more day and promised to return.

Livvie and I were there when the doors opened the next morning and this time Livvie showed her interest by crouching down, ready to play. The little dog literally jumped into the air and over her in pure excitement. They bonded and I made arrangements to have him neutered and made ready for his adoption. When he came home with us he also assumed his most appropriate name. Seurat. Named for artist Georges Seurat who was an Impressionist in the Pointillist style that matched the many tiny spots of black fur. Whenever someone met Seurat and began asking questions about him like the kind of dog he was I would say, ‘He’s a pointillist” Only artists got the connection to his name, Seurat.

Seurat was so happy to come home with me and Livvie. They became the closest of pals and she proceeded to teach him all about the back gardens, the pigeon loft, painters’ studio, B&B casitas and the road they were forbidden to cross. I often saw them standing next to the road and then turning to see if I was watching before the deliberately crossed to the other side which was Santa Clara Indian land with all sorts of different smells and assorted dogs. Livvie often remembered to not cross the street but Seurat’s Beagle or Bassett nose over ruled every time. It appeared that he could not resist any alluring scent trail. Fortunately, he always returned.

His manners were a different story. I was surely warned that he was ill mannered and would often growl with displeasure if his collar was handled or if he was reprimanded. I understood that it was likely related to abuse before he was captured and I hoped for the best. The month long power struggle began about a week after he settled in. While Livvie was quite content to follow directions and respond appropriately, Seurat was not. It appeared that he wanted to be in charge of not only Livvie, but me too. If I tried to go out a door, he scampered ahead to go out first. Sometimes he even grabbed my skirt in his mouth and pulled me back so he could dart out first. Then the growling began. If I touched his collar, he bared his teeth and I found myself feeling some fear that he would bite. My response was pretty emphatic. I would place my hands around his snout and say “No”. Day after day he growled and I responded with “No”, my hands around his mouth. Finally, at the end of a month I had a talk with him. “Seurat. I really really like you and I would love for you to stay here with me and Livvie. But, I am also afraid of you. I’m afraid you will bite me and I just cannot have a dog who bites.” He seemed to be listening while I went on. “If this continues I will have to take you back to the Animal Shelter. I am so sorry.”

He never growled at me again.

I guess we finished with the settling in process. Seurat and Livvie were best friends and two of the best dogs I’d ever known.

In 2008 I brought Seurat and Livvie with me on my move to Costa Rica. Livvie, at about 11 years old was having a difficult time with the move to a country with frequent thunder and lightning storms. Her last months were difficult and she passed in 2010.

I knew that Seurat was lonely for another dog but I waited awhile before finding a new friend for him. He seemed content to be my best friend and slept each night curled near my feet on my bed.

Frank entered my life in 2010 and became a frequent visitor to my house though he lived across the city of San Isidro de El General in Rivas on his organic farm. We married in 2012 on my 70^th birthday. Shortly after we began making plans to build Frank a separate small house just a few steps away from my front door. Both of us were so accustomed to living alone that this was the perfect answer we believed. As Frank spent more time at my place – usually 3 or 4 nights a week – we noticed that Seurat began showing some signs of jealousy and even to the point of a growl if Frank and I were hugging. Fortunately, Frank knew exactly what to do. He sat down on the couch next to Seurat and had a talk with him.

Seurat looked directly into Frank’s eyes as Frank stroked his fur and began. “Seurat, you and I have a problem.” It seemed that Seurat was listening intently as Frank continued. “We both love the same woman.” I smiled as I watched this private sharing in which Frank asked for Seurat’s understanding that they could both have a relationship with me separately as well as together and that both of them would need to respect the other’s place in my heart.

That was all it took. Seurat got it and never again showed any hesitancy with or disapproval of Frank. I wondered about this dog who was so very sensitive and understanding. Still, there was once thing Seurat was not able to do. Follow commands.

I was sure I could teach him to ‘come’. I’d done it with all my other dogs using praise and rewards. Neither even got a slight nod of approval from this most “got a mind of his own” aka “stubborn” dog. And he would spend the rest of his life trying to teach me to stop calling him. He would come home whenever he was ready. And he would never ever run or walk away.

Frank and I decided that Seurat, as he was getting older, needed another dog pal and we knew it had to be a rescued dog. The day after New Year’s, 2015 we went to see a local veterinarian, Dr. Milena Elizondo who rescued and treated street dogs. There we found Frida, a sweet German Shepherd mix found dying of starvation and Erlichiosis.  We decided to bring her into the family and see if we could make her happy again.  Seurat became the best friend for this lovely dog for the next 4 years.  The complete story of her rescue and rehab can be read here.

Seurat attained the age of about 17 in 2019. He’d been with me for 15 of those 17 years and I could not think of what life would be without him. For months, he continued his slow decline through deafness, near blindness and very old age (about 130 dog years). On the morning of June 22, I said my goodbye to this beautiful friend at the office of Dr. Adrian Solano. My good friends Marie and Billy stood with me and we each said our farewells.

At home Billy buried him on the hillside just above the outdoor studio and I placed white flowers, including a gardenia in his food bowl beside the back door. There it remained for a month, at least.

Seurat will remain in my heart as one of my dearest friends ever. We rescued each other and then we delighted in it. And I know our souls will meet again.

 

 

 

A favorite poem by Irving Townsend

 

We who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle;
easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only
certain immortality, never fully
understanding the necessary plan.

― Irving Townsend