Luna-Tuna-Tula

Absolutely the cutest with long elegant white gloves on her front paws and small dainty white slippers covering just her tippy toes on the back, Tula Rose has entered our life. No, not the much hoped for baby, but the sorely needed dog. Her arrival has been truly celebrated by friends and family and she has more dog toys than anyone on the block. Mama Jan even sent her flowers. The delivery man arrived at the door asking for Tula Rose by name.

One day I saw an advertisement on the side of a bus that said "cure for depression" underneath a picture of a woman sleeping with her cat. I started crying, and realized that the time of petlessness needed to come to an end. So here she is, ball fetching, face licking, floppy eared, snotty nosed, nothing like my Luna. This is good, as I wouldn't want Luna to think she was being replaced (as if), and I wouldn't want to expect one dog to act like the other (was Luna really a dog?). Even if she might not have been best friends with Tula, I think Luna understands.

I recently saw a sort of psychic. Advertised as an intuitive healer, I would call her a spirit guide interpreter. When I asked about Luna, she said a golden breeze went fluttering all around me. I like to think she's still looking out for me, protecting me from harm. Her ashes are still in a tin by my bed, and although my intention was to scatter them on a beach in California, they may get buried when we plant fruit trees these fall. I hope we have her blessing.

Tula is again sleeping on the couch. Sigh. Maybe its time to go play.