February can be the most depressing of months, if for only the gray clouds and cold winds that keep us house prisoners and germinate the air with seasonally affected disorder, but this year the feeling of doom was more so. We lost a loved companion and member of our family, our dog Grace: the one of Bianco Mutto fame, and whose snow-white hair is the material of purses.
For 13 years she brought joy to our lives. Our only consolation, her end came quickly with a minimum of suffering.
If winter symbolized death, and spring renewal of life, then we should feel a sense of joy and rebirth with the month of March. On March 17, a new companion stepped into our lives to help fill an empty spot. She is not of a famous but mysterious breed, like the Bianco Mutto, but instead a delightful mix of Jack Russell and English Setter (we think).
She is a shelter dog who was fostered for over a year. She waited a long time for us to show up. Her foster parent named her Teagan, and we’ve decided to keep the name. It is an Irish female first name, and is the diminutive of the Irish tadhg, meaning poet.
So how appropriate is it for Teagan to arrive at the home of an Irishman, and sometime poet, on St. Patrick’s Day?
I think it is destiny.
