When you dream of death, believe it

Because not long after, everything in your life will change.

 A few days after the dream, barely 24 hours, something changed in my best friend, Roscoe. Yes, Roscoe is a dog, but those who love animals know what it feels like to care for one. They consume your life, and become not only your family but your best friends and companions in life. I woke up Monday morning and he was in a puddle of his own urine, unable to lift his head. I cleaned him up as best as I could and called the mobile vet. When she came on Wednesday to assess him it was as I feared – Roscoe had a stroke, and all that was left to do for him was the final kindness, euthanasia.

 I was torn up. I still am. He belonged to Rebecca for 8 years; to us for two and a half years; and then to me for three. Roscoe was the last living piece of her life I had. And now, he’s at peace with his first mistress. His remains sit on my boveda, alongside Rebecca. I’ve lost pets before. Every pet owner has. But Rebecca was my best human friend, and losing her favorite dog like this feels like I’m losing her all over again. It makes my heart hurt.

In what can only be described as an act of G-d, specifically Shango, I made a new best friend. Flavia travelled 5,000 miles on a train to come complete pending issues with the orisha Shango, and Shango created a bond between the two of us that will last for a lifetime. We live on separate coasts and probably that’s a good thing, because the two of us together . . . nothing but trouble!

And then . . . Brayan and I had a huge argument, the second in less than a month. Because of this second argument, we’re no longer engaged. There’s no hatred. I harbor no bad feelings, and I don’t think he does either. We’re still speaking. We’re still texting. I’m taking care of his pit bull Luna (for now); and a part of me hopes that she gets to stay with me for a long, long time. She’s an amazing dog, and has given me new love for that breed.

Don’t believe the media hype about pits, folks. I was afraid when she first moved in because of all I’ve read and seen on the television. But these dogs are lovers; they aim to please; and they do what is expected of them. If you expect them to be lovable, kind, and relaxed, well they are lovable, kind, and relaxed. Expect lots of doggie hugs and kisses – because they can be overly affectionate. And in her infinite wisdom, she defers to the alpha dog, Mio (a Shih Tzu!) in all things!

Anyway, Brayan has moved almost an hour away. I have no idea what our future holds now, and I’ve begged the orishas and the dead to stay silent on it because I don’t want to know. Right now, I just want to exist. But we both know this: we’re not ready to be married. I’m not ready to be married. I’m heart-broken to the point of being sick, but I’d rather mourn something that never was then be in something I’m unsure about. While we haven’t spoken about it, I think Brayan feels the same way.

With the bitters come the sweets. A lot of opportunities are presenting themselves lately. Two Universities have offered me guest speaker positions on my topic of expertise: odu and divination in the Lucumí faith. Taking either one would require me to move to for a year and work under a tenured professor. I’d receive room, board, and free tuition plus a small stipend. I could continue the teaching work I do now. But – no pets. I’ve been offered a job as a guest DJ with a nationwide metaphysical/conspiracy show one day a week, eight hours at a shot. Somehow they heard a blog-talk radio show I was a part of, and the producer loves my “honey-dewed” voice (her words, not mine). I could do that from home; however, I’d be up all night (I prefer sleeping at night). And there are a few other random things finding their way to my professional email box that I’m sitting on for now.

I just need to sit still, be quiet, and do what I do best – write. I have a book proposal to send in this week.

In a way, death did come to my life. And she ripped it apart with her bare hands. But death is a part of life; and now the power of resurrection kicks in. Let’s see what it brings.


One thought on “When you dream of death, believe it

  1. This means…. An Egun book shall be on it’s way. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

    On Sun, Feb 28, 2016 at 9:33 AM, “Ócháni Lele” wrote:

    > Ochani Lele posted: “Because not long after, everything in your life will > change. A few days after the dream, barely 24 hours, something changed in > my best friend, Roscoe. Yes, Roscoe is a dog, but those who love animals > know what it feels like to care for one. They consume” >

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