Meet Miss Agatha Pocket.
She came into my life only a few weeks after I had to put Stella to sleep due to advanced untreatable Cushings.
The day before I took her home, I was driving along one of the main thoroughfares in southern Marin when a deer darted in front of the car in front of me and was fatally injured.
The deer limped to the side of the road and struggled to make it up the hillside as I jumped out of my car sobbing and screaming hysterically. “Somebody help, somebody help.”
She turned around and her dark eyes pooled deep within me as she passed. Searing through my humanness to connect with my soul. I was the last thing she saw.
The next day I happened to walk by one of those sidewalk dog rescue events. Most of the dogs were yelping or panting in the fenced in area except Aggie, who was sound asleep. Until I walked by and she opened her eyes and looked straight into mine.
“It’s the deer,” I said. And stopped.
That was about four years ago. At first Pocket really didn’t seem to have any idea of what type of animal she was. It felt as if that deer’s spirit has been reborn into another body but wasn’t yet sure what incarnation this one was: Was she a seal? A lioness? A gazelle? A tomcat? An egret?
Maybe it’s time for the real Pocket
“How Agatha Pocket Got Her Name”
Five dogs have been part of my family before Pocket and for each one of them my favorite terms of endearment were “Dream Pocket” or “Pocket Nose.” Just days before I let Stella go, I had decided that when (and if) I got another dog she would be the real Pocket.
Agatha comes from Agate Beach, a favored destination for each of them.
I guess I’m writing about Miss Pocket today because we started training again yesterday. Nothing too unusual. Leash pulling. Demand barking. Being over protective of the house and of me.
I had forgotten how much we both love being in training. Two forty-five minute ‘on the clock’ walks each day where she has no choice but to heel. Having to sit for her dinner. Knowing I’m in charge of things and she doesn’t have to worry. She’s so much calmer already. It’s like a huge “Phew. Thank god that’s over and I can relax again.”
The odd thing about Miss Agatha Pocket is that I have the uncanny feeling that she is the embodiment of every dog who has preceded her. She is Willie Whitepaws, Augusta and Bobo, Stella and Macaroni.
It’s as if they all came home to me. It’s amazing. It’s a miracle. I am blessed.
Like most of us I have so many wonderful pictures I’d love to share. But I’m going to resist although I might be tempted to tuck a few into comments later on.
Pets are a favored topic here at Daily Kos. And many of us have already shared stories. I will never forget the support I received from this community on the night of the death of two of my dogs (See I Put Down Macaroni Today and Stella, Stella, Stella.
From a post I wrote back in 2012: Doghouse Found:
Even now, six years after leaving home, I return here with my old 'new' dogs, Stella and Macaroni. We sit and watch as the tide moves into the Lagoon, and I remember hundreds of walks along the shore with Gussie and Bobo; and Stella as a pup, how she would swim across the channel against the tide to chase after seagulls on the Stinson shore; how my brother, early one morning, drives over the hill to pick up kids' rods for my daughter and his two girls so they can compete in Bolinas' First Annual Fishing Derby; how they stand just yards away from where I sit now. On his last visit, before my divorce, he drives down to this bench at sunset and returning, eerily predicts: "I just had the weirdest feeling, as if it has all ended. Like I was saying good-bye. You won't be living here the next time I come back." By God, he is right. "I Carry Bolinas in my DNA:" October, 2009.
Kitchen Table Kibitzing is a community series for those who wish to share part of the evening around a virtual kitchen table with readers of Daily Kos who aren’t throwing pies at one another. Drop by and tell us about your weather, your garden, or what you cooked for supper. Newcomers may notice that many who post diaries and comments in this series already know one another to some degree, but we welcome guests at our kitchen table, and hope to make some new friends as well.