― Thomas Moore
Mollie
My life is complicated at the moment, but I'm not that way by nature. I'm basically a simple person and long to put down roots somewhere.
I had a very nice townhouse in a Victorian village just on the outskirts of Toronto. It was close to the Bruce Trail and Mollie and I loved to hike it and have mini adventures―mind you, that's where I found her and almost lost her.
I mean, who abandons a puppy on a nature trail? Of course, I adopted her in a heartbeat. She was a fluffy, golden ball of fur who nuzzled her way into my heart.
But there was something about that trail and its proximity to a cliff thousands of years old. Many of the large slabs of stone were scarred by glaciers. It was a sacred space―I felt it in my bones―and somehow Mollie was part of it.
You may have wondered how I ended up owning a dog in a condo apartment. It's a long story but basically, I went through a dry patch in the real estate game and had to sell my townhouse and move back to the city.
Fortunately, I knew the owner of the condo development and he allowed me lease the apartment on the understanding it would only be for a year. Dogs and apartments are not a good fit―especially, golden retrievers who like to run and range through the wild lands...
and that basically sums up Mollie.
But she's also a diva who loves feminine companionship―girl time―and that's where Kate comes in. Two or three times a month she gets to stay with Kate at her townhouse near where I used to live and walk with Kate on the bruce Trail to her heart's content.
Kate also does her nails and cuts her hair―yeah, that kind of spa thing women love and men just can't relate―at least, I can't.
But don't get me wrong, Mollie loves me too and mothers me every chance she gets. She's my therapy instructor and personal guide who rescues me from nightmares, but she also has a mystical side to her I can't quite figure out, but she keeps me in touch with my primal needs for comfort and companionship.
Mollie and Kate are the two women in my life, but the third one is in my dreams and we also share a life, but don't ask me for details because it's all gone the moment I'm awake.
Anyway, today I'm in a garrulous mood and can't seem to choke the stream of images flooding my mind. Sometimes it's so overpowering I feel nauseous and my head spins trying to keep up with my racing thoughts.
My lease on the apartment is almost up and I'm going to have to move again. It's another separation, a metaphorical death, where like an initiate in a pagan mystery cult I have to make a break with familiar practices and routines and strike out on a whole new track of being.
I'm scared. It's a transition marking a passage through a new cycle of life and I don't know where I'm going to end up. This passage from one place to another terrifies me because I'm groping in the dark for a way I only sense is there.
My cell buzzes―it's Kate.
"Hey Si―I know I said I was good to go, but I need you to come out here."
"You okay?" I ask, hearing the note of panic in her voice.
"I just need company―bring Mollie―and coffee―and..."
"I get the picture―we're on our way."
My scalp is tingling and I feel numb . I glance at Mollie and she's on high alert, sniffing the air and glancing at the doorway.
Something's wrong, I can feel it. I grab her leash and we're out and in the SUV in minutes. Forty minutes later I'm at a Tim Hortons take-out window buying coffee and all the comfort food I know that will calm Kate's anxiety.
Thing is, Kate's not a fearful person and I usually look to her for support. Why does this all feel familiar as if I know how to calm her angst because I've done it before?
It makes no sense but I gun the motor as I break a few more rules of the road heading to her rescue.
She sent me the address of the open house and I punched it into my GPS.
I pull up in front of a century house that looks more like a historical landmark than a current real estate listing.
Am I at the right place? I ask myself, but then spot Kate sitting on the shady wooden verandah.
I open the door and Mollie's out and heading straight for Kate. By the time I get there, she's on guard at her feet.
"Gotta love that dog," I mutter as I place the takeout fare on a wooden table beside Kate.
"She's not a dog―remember? She's my protectress, aren't you, Girl?"
Mollie leans back her head and nuzzles Kate to reassure her.
"Protectress, eh? So what do you need protection from?"
"I need coffee and something to eat―I'll tell you when I calm down. Just let me recover."
"Sure, take all the time you want."
She's already splitting her chilli with Mollie, spooning out half onto a china saucer and letting her eat.
"You spoil that girl, Kate." I warn her.
She nods, "I know, but she keeps me safe. So do you, but that's more 'cause you let me talk. She guards me."
I can't argue with that. I don't think I strike fear in anybody. But Mollie, she's a different story. She's a soft dog, but not when it comes to safeguarding ones she loves. I wouldn't want to cross her.
I sip my coffee and lean back in my Muskoka chair. This property is gorgeous, the grounds sheltered by huge maples casting lakes of shadows and the wind in the boughs sounds like a waterfall.
Why the hell is Kate out on the porch? I ask myself. Something here just doesn't add up and I need to get to the bottom of it.