Joyful Musings: Life Marked By Lovers And Clothes And Dogs

By SUSAN DROMEY HEETER, InDepthNH

Above, Tim and his German passport

In Joni Mitchell’s song, Down to You, she sings the line, “marked by lovers and styles of clothes” referencing the passage of time. I’d add to that line “and dogs we loved” to mark moments, reference months, years. And today I muse joyfully on dogs that have done just that, dogs that were furry calendars, diaries, snapshots of time.

Our first dog “Hazel" was one I tried to ride while three or four. It did not go well, she’s a blur and being of an age when dogs simply vanished or ‘went to live on a farm.” That was Hazel’s fate, she just…disappeared. We then had a dog named Daisy who was short lived, literally and figuratively. She, too, went away but there is a blink of a time when she sat on my lap and I found joy in her softness. I’m in our den, there is a blue chair, there is little puppy Daisy.

And then Maxine. She lasted and was around during high school, college and beyond. She was a light haired beauty and I remember sitting on our front porch both with Max and my younger sister. I’m 16 and my mother's pocketbook happened to be outside. I perused her belongings, found her bright red Maybelline lipstick and proceeded to kiss Maxine’s head so that her furry noggin was blissfully decked in red lips. We laughed. But then, as my high school crush drove by, he stopped, got out of his car and walked up to the porch, I was horrified as my lips were bright red and, more to the point, it was obvious I had kissed Maxine’s head exponentially. I was horrified but Max simply wagged her tail, oblivious to my cringe.

Max passed at a good old age and I went on to adopt Tim, a mutt from The Netherlands. I was living over in Europe and found Tim in a Dutch dog pound. She became my constant companion as I traipsed around the cobblestoned streets of Holland, Belgium, France. Tim often came with me to Paris where I’d visit my friend, Mary. We were all walking the streets of the city of lights when a small dog came up to Tim and we realized the petit chien belonged to none other than Yves Saint Laurent. Tim, the mutt, was with YSL’s designer pet. What are the chances?

Tim passed on in the Netherlands and my heart broke. I loved that dog more than life itself.

When I married my husband, he came with a dog - another Max - and we moved to Alaska from Europe. Max was my buddy in the Last Frontier, we walked miles in the snow, and he was my daughters’ first pet. When we moved to New Hampshire, he adapted to the East Coast and when he passed, we moved on to Luc, spelling his name the French way to create a bit of cache. My sister adopted Luc’s brother, Tucker, and the boys were “brousins” with our kids and and provided years of love and comfort, furry hugs, loves only a canine knows how to share.

Today there is Bennie, a covid pup who has grown into quite a big guy. He’s a lot of dog, another mutt with energy to spare. He burrows under blankets, jumps on people, barks, runs away and despite years of training, is still a whole lot of dog. Alas, he loves, he comforts, he walks with me for miles through the woods - but, wait, I take that back. I walk, he flies and bounces and leaps. Bennie.

So, if your life is marked only by lovers and styles of clothes, that’s enough. If your life is marked by a pooch or five or ten, even better. I muse joyfully those dogs bring you adventure, chance run-ins with French designers and reasons to get out into the woods.

Susan Dromey Heeter writes from Newmarket and often from the road where she joyfully muses on life in the fast and slow lanes. She drives a stick shift, can also ride a unicycle and recently retired after 30+ years of teaching. Dromey Heeter finds joy primarily in Milk Duds and people who make her laugh, not necessarily in that order. Follow Susan @dromeyheeter on Instagram and/or @BudgetVogue63. She can also be reached at dromeyheeter@gmail.com.

This article first appeared on InDepthNH.org and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.