A Little Story about Intimacy by Sara Wright

Usually when humans hear the word intimacy they think of human loved ones. When I use the word intimacy it is because I belong to the land and by extension to all of nature beginning with my dogs who have accompanied me throughout my life and remain my most intimate companions.

Recently, after eight months of hospicing my two dying girls – we spend the last thirteen years as one unit – I wondered how long it would be before my grief would allow me to bring in another companion. My two beloved dead dogs orchestrated Coalie’s coming although I didn’t know it at the time, and now that we are together, I can walk with my grief and loss and experience joy even as I am once again initiated into interspecies intimacy that defies explanation.

 I still find myself in a state of awe. How is it possible that a 2 lb. dog could become so much a part of me so seamlessly? From the moment I saw her on a machine I knew she was mine. When she arrived, we were already connected on a level beneath words…

 Coalie and I wake up together – she mews from her carrier a few inches from my nose as I unzip it to let her stretch out beside me. We awaken slowly with her little paws hugging my belly.

Coalie revels in the warmth of her mother’s body, but as soon as I say, ‘time to get up,’ she springs into an upright position tail raised and anxiously awaits until I place her on the floor. We go pee – she on her papers and then it’s time to play with squeaky unless she is caught by her reflection or the rain puddle that suddenly appeared outside the porch door. I sit with her a few minutes throwing her toys as she bounces up and down like a pogo stick before beginning morning chores with her in tow.

Feeding the turkeys comes first as we climb the hill. She never utters a sound, so the turkeys allow her to come very close. I have always taught my dogs to be quiet around all wild animals because I am a naturalist who can’t have dogs interfering with my research, but Coalie already knows…

Then together we feed Lily b. Coalie is fascinated by our free flying house bird, so I was surprised yesterday when she was so frightened by the skein of wild geese flying overhead. Loving the aerial conversation, it was a few moments before I recognized that my little 4 and ½ month old chihuahua felt differently. When anything upsets Coalie she races to our bedroom – her safe place to hide.

Normally, breakfast comes after the first chores – kibbles warmed with chicken juice – homemade of course – after she has eaten Coalie curls up next to the computer and sleeps as I begin my writing day. A second breakfast follows when I have my oatmeal a little later. Coalie has her own dish!

Yesterday poisoned air ruled the skies, so I kept her in all day while I was breathing in the scarlet tips of the first fall leaves through closed windows, sad to be separated by glass but accepting too, taking pleasure from the fading greens on the deciduous trees, some     turning scarlet before my eyes.

 On nice days after it warms up, we take a walk up to the magic corner where the monarch caterpillars reside with Coalie sniffing her way up the hill and streaking down again though she is dragging a leash behind her. Coalie has a trickster- self who loves to have me chase her around. Thus, a leash has become necessity. Another Coalie nap follows if I have more work at the computer, and then another playtime. The living room is strewn with toys.

Activities that require cooking, cleaning or some other kind of project give Coalie the chance to do some serious ground-feeding. Any time she’s quiet I feel that pull to investigate and I am never disappointed. She finds edibles in places I cannot see. Bits of feathers, dust sticks, string – the objects she unearths amaze me. It’s not as if I don’t vacuum.

Coalie’s trust in me is absolute. We communicate regularly with or without words. Some would call the latter telepathy, but I believe that the genesis of this interspecies communication is impossibly complex involving fields that include intimacy. I never discipline Coalie because she knows what I want without my ever opening my mouth. Even with ground feeding, when caught she hangs her head, alerting me to the truth that she knows what she’s done but that the whole point is to get my attention back on her.

 We are moving into autumn, my favorite season, and Coalie has already become something of a woodland tracker. Last night the coyotes were singing outside our window. Before the symphony began Coalie went to the window and just stared into the dark. Something was out there… When the coyotes began, I watched her ears twitch as she stood on high alert with her tail raised and curled. My sense is that she knows what they are saying. I’m the one that’s left behind.

On days when I need to shop or do other errands, she joins me in the front seat secured inside her carrier. She never complains but I notice that she never sleeps while we travel unless we are the passengers in someone else’s car. She accompanies me into stores in a handbag, disappearing when anything frightens her,

On gray days like this one more frequent naps seem to be the rule though each is punctuated by animated playtimes.

 I am in the middle of harvesting fall bounty elderberries, basil, peaches, fresh tomato based harvest soups. Coalie doesn’t like being left out, so I give her a giant marrow bone to gnaw on. She can barely drag it around on the floor!

Last night we had a brief 20 minute rain shower, and the one clap of thunder sent her diving under my legs – damn. The day before I had to leave her in her house (a cage in the living room that she visits regularly if I am busy if it’s her nap time) so she was alone when it thundered. Had I known this would happen I would have stayed home. I know how important it is to be together when loud noises strike. I was deeply upset because getting beyond these fears is easily done when I am with the animal in the flesh.

It’s already time for Coalie’s second breakfast of oatmeal and applesauce – she’s peering at me expectantly, so I must close.

Living with Coalie is the joy of my life, my gratitude knows no bounds, but it is the intimate connection between us that blossoms anew each day that we are together that offers me hope not just for us, but for the planet…

 If we could just get beyond the split we have created between humans and nature we could learn once again how to live… Intimacy between all living creatures, plants roots trees etc. opens doors to a new way of being with the Earth as ki struggles to redress imbalances.

Robin Wall Kimmerer scientist and Indigenous elder, has this to say: “the names we give to plants and animals shape our relationships with them and learning how to speak the language of the earth is essential for reconnection”. The use of ki (plural kin) is the word she uses to personalize every aspect of nature.

We can begin this process with a non – human companion as I did as a toddler with dogs and plants…

The Earth comes alive through our senses. Ki is ready to guide us if we open our hearts to the ‘grammar of intimacy’ and our body’s truths.