Author’s Note: I originally wrote this on April 30, 2019, on Sookie’s second birthday. However, August 19th is the date that two puppies came into our lives and home, Zoey in 2013 and Sookie in 2017. Somehow, Teddy’s gotcha day is January 19th. In honor of our dear Sookie and all that she continues to bring us, I give you her origin story. Jon and I will be hiding from all puppies in need of homes today as we are full up here. If I had my way, I’d have many more dogs than three and many kitties as well, but we’re going to need more space and land to fulfill this vision of mine.
Sookie is a miracle
This is what we have said time and time again from the moment we met her. It took a year for us to find her, a year filled with healing, connection, loss, and joy.
Our story begins one summer day shortly after Zoey turned 3. Jon looked at her hanging out by herself on the sofa waiting for us to do something…….anything…….., and he said, “Zoey looks bored. I think she needs a sister or brother.”
Thus began the search for Sookie.
We bantered for a bit, he and I, about the ease of one dog and the potential complications of adding another member to our family. We were four at the time. Jon, Me, Zoey, and The Smurf a.k.a. Ursula (our Maine Coon kitty of 11 years). We had a rhythm and an ease to our day.
Time to muck it up.
I did NOT start looking at Petfinder and other rescue sites or our Humane Society’s website immediately (okay, maybe a bit). I mostly just sat with the intent in my field that I’d like to connect with the perfect being for us.
I had a day off from channeling and decided to wander into town to get a massage. Afterward, I walked smack dab into Julie Tumamait-Stenslie, our local Chumash elder, literally, meaning I was not yet fully grounded and bumped into her a few feet from the entrance to the spa. Another dog lover, Julie also happened to have a pooch named Zoey.
“Did you see the puppies yet at the Humane Society?” she crooned.
“Dammit”, I did remember seeing something about a litter of puppies with a McNab mommy on Facebook. Off I went. I mean, when a spiritual elder gives direction, well, I am not one to discount it offhand.
I walked down to the kennels and heard the fiercest barking. It sounded just like Zoey when she “protects” our yard from passing dogs. She used to bark that way at everyone, but now it is just random dogs (and of course the people that are with them). No matter how much we talk to her about it, she strongly believes that it is her job to protect our yard, and she is going to let anyone she perceives to be a potential threat know about it. We’ve given in. Zoey can be as stubborn as they come.
I walked towards the fearful yelling and there they were, a kennel filled with black and brown pups, some with white markings, each with a celestial name (Orion, Lyra, seriously!!!??). The Humane Society, like all rescues, always give their dogs working titles. My attention, however, was not drawn to the puppies but to their fearful mama, still a pup herself at about a year old, she was the most gorgeous being I had seen in a while and in some ways reminded me of my Zoey. It was in her eyes, her beautiful, soulful, and sweet eyes, the similarity.
I immediately averted my head to the side, dropped down on the sidewalk into a seated position, and started sending love in front of “Paloma’s” kennel (that was her name when the Humane Society took her and her day-old pups from the abusive and neglectful environment she was living in). Paloma stopped her fearful and defensive barking, all a glorious show, and came to the fence to sniff me now that I was not towering over her. Her pups were about 4 weeks old at this point. She then let me meet them as they ran to the fence to see me. She even let me receive some kisses from them. When I was done telling her how beautiful her babies were, I very gently reached in and gave her a scratch underneath her chin. She bowed her head, leaned into my hand, and then kissed me. I completely fell in love. I knew those babies would be easy to place, but she, she was going to be a challenge.
I spent the next 6 weeks working with Paloma on almost a daily basis. No one else had spent much time with her outside of staff as she scared the crap out of anyone who walked by. Eventually, the puppies grew to be old enough that they got their own kennels and she and I got to really spend some quality time together. I taught her all sorts of things, her favorite was catching a ball in the air after it bounced on the ground (a Zoey classic). She was affectionate and loving with me at all times and even warmed up to Jon rather quickly. She was more terrified of men than women, as is often the case with sensitive and abused animals.
I headed over one afternoon and she was not out in the play yard but was in her kennel. I stooped down to see her and distinctly heard her say, “Come on in with me. I can not come out to play.”
I said, “I can not come in there, silly.” and went off to find a staff person who could move Paloma to a play yard. Turns out she had just been spayed and needed to stay in her kennel.
“Why don’t you just go on in her kennel and visit with her there?” she said to me. I laughed all the way back to her.
So she came home with us and is now named “Sookie” you might be thinking at this point. No, that is not the way our journey with Paloma ended. As is often the case, in the formation of a newly intended relationship, there is a process, a series of near misses, loves, and loss. Paloma, Paloma was one of those. Due to a confluence of issues and a certainty on the part of one of the staff members at the Humane Society, it was decided that we could not provide the appropriate home for Paloma.
I tried hard to force it. Force, is never a good idea in the formation of any relationship or any creative or creator endeavor for that matter. I cried and grieved and said goodbye to her when I found they were placing her elsewhere. We were offered Lyra, her final puppy yet to be adopted, but Zoey was not having it. She, along with us thought we were there for Paloma, and Zoey completely shut down in Lyra’s presence.
Now Paloma’s ending is a happy one, as was ours ultimately. She went off to a goat farm and lives on 5 acres with people who love her and are committed to her well-being. They create organic goat’s milk cheeses and soaps, give tours of their farm, and offer goat yoga with the babies. Paloma (now named Quinn) has a baby brother. I am able to follow her on Instagram, and as of this 2023 update was reunited with her just a few months ago when I went out to where she lives and spent the afternoon with her and her human mom.
We, however, were left bereft for a bit of time. A week or 2 passed and I started our search again. We ran through rescue after rescue, finding and then losing dogs for one reason or another. And then came Jasper, the puppy who lived with us for 3 months until it became clear he was unhappy in our family. You can read all about him in Teddy’s story (oh, we’ve renamed Rooty now to Teddy). One year in with us, it was time for a new name to go with his much-healed personality.
August of 2017 — a full year after our search for a new dog began, almost a year to the day I first met Paloma, we got word that Jasper was being re-homed.
“I am going to go to the Humane Society just to see if anyone needs any healing,” I said later that day to Jon, myself, anyone who was listening. It sounded good, right?
“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Jon asked.
Affirmative.
Off I went. There were some sweet dogs but it was pretty quiet, many of the kennels were empty. They had just adopted out a bunch of dogs and were expecting some more.
“We’re getting new dogs tomorrow!” Angela the kennel manager sang to me. “Come back! Around 11am!”
It sounded like a command, and then she whipped out her phone and very quickly flashed a picture of a golden-colored puppy.
“Cute. Right?” she said.
The next day I canoodled Jon into returning with me. We pulled up as a van full of dogs in crates was being unloaded. We wandered around for a while, the kennels are set up in a circular fashion. We were ready to head out, not really connecting with anyone we saw, when I said, “Hang on, we missed this section.”
There she was, pushing herself into the fence as hard as she could to get closer to us, we ignored the sign that said “Do Not Touch — Very Scared Puppy” and reached through to pet her and receive kisses. She seemed to be the sweetest thing ever and had literally just been placed in that kennel moments before.
Arlene, the assistant director walked by and I asked her about “Scout”. She said, “Let’s go up to the office and check out her story,” and we followed her up.
Arlene grabbed Scout’s file and then disappeared into the private office she shares with the director, saying, “Hang on a minute,” and closing the door behind them.
Jon and I stood there, like two 12-year-olds waiting to be called into the principal’s office as we could hear faint mumblings from behind the closed door. We looked at each other as the minutes passed, dancing from foot to foot.
We were gestured inside a few minutes later and sat down.
“We’d like you to take her right now if you want her,” said Jolene, the director.
Wait……………… What??????? We had literally only had 2 minutes with her, separated by a fence. But, you know, love at first sight and a year’s worth of looking, we were ready……………sort of. This is love. It sometimes seems to take forever to come into our lives, and then when it finally does, it can feel breathtakingly fast.
“She’s young and scared and we do not want a battle over her,” we were told. “She is going to go quickly.”
“What happens if our dog Zoey does not like her?”
“Well, then you can bring her right back.”
It was the polar opposite experience I had with Paloma, practically begging them to let me adopt her. Completely disoriented, we found ourselves nodding along with what seemed to be a storyline that was playing out beyond our control, clearly destined to come about.
“Wait, we need to poop test her!” Angela said as she came into the office. They needed to make sure she did not have any communicable diseases. “We’ll call you in a bit.”
Scout failed her poop test and they would need to hold her for a week or so.
I went in the next day to see her and was only allowed to visit with her in her kennel. I walked in, she immediately peed out of excitement, fell in her pee, and then threw herself into my arms, hugging me and kissing me as if she had known me forever and had not seen me in ages. Laughing like a banshee, as she was crawling all over me, I did not even care that she was a bit covered in her own pee. At 4 months old she was a full-on puppy — goofy and soft, sweet and loving, so loving, and curious and bitey with those sharp alligator-like puppy teeth.
I spent about 30 minutes with her being kissed and chewed on, went home, got Jon, and brought him back with me.
“Now this is more like it”, he said while holding her and having his face practically licked off.
She was ours. Clearly.
We named her shortly afterward. Sookie is full faerie (like The Smurf), such a lovely balance to Zoey’s unicorn/elf self and Teddy’s very serious at times gnome nature. I threw a bunch of names at her when she was not looking at me and as soon as I said, “Sookie!” she turned her head in my direction, started grinning, and then jumped on me. We were already pretty sure Sookie was her name, we just wanted her to confirm it for us.
Four days later, coccidiosis or not, we wanted her home. We were sure that Zoey would not catch the parasitic bugger working its way through Sookie’s system and were sure as well that Sookie was probably cleared of the disease.
We loaded her wriggling and joyful self into the car and took her home. Now normally, when adopting a dog it is standard to bring your other dog(s) in for a meet and greet to check out the chemistry and see if they like one another. Because Sookie was quarantined, we did not have that option. I went in first and let Zoey into the yard, on a leash (just in case). Sookie came in on leash with Jon, and Zoey went for her, all teeth and snarling, saying, “Who the hell is this coming into my yard?” Sookie just stood there calmly with no reaction whatsoever.
Shit! Okay. Breathe. Regroup.
Jon and Sookie backed out of the gate while I calmed Zoey down. He and I looked at each other.
“Let’s take them for a walk,” I said, which was a much more appropriate way for 2 dogs to meet each other. I should have known better than to just thrust Sookie upon Zoey in her own yard in that way, but Zoey LOVES puppies, so I was under the mistaken idea that Zoey would not have a problem with her.
I headed out the gate with Zoey, and this time she said, “hello” to Sookie in a much more friendly manner, via sniffing and other forms of inspection. Four houses later, they were trotting along beside each other, tails wagging, any sense of discord gone. We turned around at the end of the block and went home. Back through our gate and off leash, they played with each other immediately and were sisters before we knew it. And boy are they sisters, more often than not playing and romping with an every-once-in-a-while trash-talking session when one does something the other does not like.
Zoey was infinitely patient with Sookie and loved the job of showing her the ropes. It was so much easier having a puppy with an adult dog there to help out. Sookie was extremely observant and took in all that Zoey showed her. We assumed that Sookie was not allowed to sleep inside from wherever it was she came originally, as the first month she lived with us we had to pick her up and bring her in each night. I would take them out for their nightly pee. Zoey would run inside once finished and Sookie would curl up on the ground, no matter how much we called her. And then when we would walk towards her, she would go limp and roll on her back. Night after night we picked her up and brought her inside. Until finally a month later, one night, she ran inside with Zoey.
The Smurf accepted Sookie pretty quickly. Having lived with Zoey for 4 years, she was used to the canine energy. The Smurf and Sookie have become fast friends. Both faeries, The Smurf seems to feel safest with Sookie than with either Zoey or Teddy and will even let Sookie play with her a bit.
Sookie loves everyone she meets, dogs and people alike. She stands at the fence and barks at everyone that walks by, not in a protective “this is my yard” kind of way, more in a “Hey get over here so I can hug you” kind of way. As she has grown (and oh my goodness has she grown, from a mere 26 pounds to somewhere around 85 pounds), she continues to be affectionate and loves to give hugs, full-on, puts her paws on your shoulders, and looks into your eyes before she nuzzles her face into your neck, kind of hugs.
I’d only been hugged like that by a dog once before. Zoey’s daddy Charlie was a hugger. Charlie was a beautiful yellow lab, his coat bleached by the sun he was almost white, big and barky at the fence, and a hugger. Charlie did not have the best of lives, relegated to the backyard, not allowed in the house, sleeping outside with his female companion, Lola, Zoey’s mommy, a herding dog of indeterminate origins. Oh, Charlie, we loved that sweet boy. A couple of times Jon and I both mentioned to each other that Sookie reminded us of Charlie. We so wanted to give that boy a home, but his family would not let him go.
There is a faerie in Brian Froud and Jessica Macbeth’s Faeries’ Oracle (one of my all-time favorite tools for guidance) named Sairie — The Faery Godmother. Sookie is the embodiment of this energy.
Jessica says:
“This is how Sairie The Faery Godmother works. She gives us grace to help us along our way. It might be a little touch of Faery dust to lift a mood, it might be a conspicuous miracle, it might be anything in between. She protects us from the ill will and plain stupidity of others and from our own mistakes. She untangles the snarls in our psyches and bestows gifts upon us — whatever she feels we need. Sometimes she gives us choices when we thought we had none.
Grace is the good fortune we get from the universe even when we don’t deserve it. In fact, deserving or not deserving is not the issue. We are — and therefore, we are loved. It’s that simple. Sairie The Faery Godmother is a giver of grace, and occasionally (quite often, in fact) of useful lessons. She tries not to interfere with our learning processes, but she adds that little touch of faery grace that helps us to learn a little faster sometimes. Quite often she acts in our lives through the hands and hearts of others……………
…….Sairie offers last-minute rescues. When she turns up in our readings, good things may well be happening that we don’t think we deserve — or that we do deserve but haven’t thought to ask for. Almost imperceptibly she teaches us about giving and receiving unconditionally, helping us to open our hearts to love and acceptance. She sometimes showers us with abundance. Keep an eye out for unexpected good fortune, especially when you thought you had bad luck headed your way.
Remember to say thank you by passing a kindness on to someone else. Practice a little faery godmothering yourself and see how enjoyable it is. Part of the fun of it is to do it so that the recipient doesn’t know where the gift came from.”
We are grateful for Sookie and Sairie when she works through her.
When we brought Teddy home, Sookie was instrumental in his healing process, teaching him how to play and have fun. Her favorite game with him is to get him worked up until he chases her around the yard and throws her down like a cow (as a cattle herder he can not help himself). She will goad him on, again and again, to get him to do it, just as she will wack Zoey in the face with a paw to get her to play. She’s a maniac in the best of ways and encourages Zoey and Teddy to lighten up and have more fun, just as she does with us.
The other day I was at the Humane Society visiting with a pup who was very much in need of energetic support and love. After spending time with her I wandered into the office and there was Sheldon, neighbor to the house where Charlie and Lola lived. I had been asking about Zoey’s parents for some time as they disappeared from their yard right around the time Sookie came into our lives. Lola, I had found, was living elsewhere, but there was no word on Charlie.
“Sheldon!” I said, “What happened to Charlie?”
“Oh, Charlie died, some time ago. They just found him dead in the yard one morning. They think it was probably rat poison.”
My eyes teared up hearing that Zoey’s dad had died. He was a being filled with love and stood at his fence day after day barking at passersby so he could give love to those who took the time to approach. He was a fixture in our neighborhood and many received the benefit of his love as many brought him treats and returned his love in kind.
I left feeling sad and angry, angry that Charlie, neglected in the yard died in that way. And then it hit me. Sookie did not act like Charlie, Sookie was Charlie, in the flesh, again, in our family. The hugs, the hello’s at the fence, the belief that she was not allowed to come in at night, her relentless love of treats, her immediate connection with us and Zoey, on and on. She is herself. She is Sookie. And she is Charlie.
Sookie turns 2 years old today, Beltane, a fitting day for a faerie like Sookie. April 30th was also our sweet and fierce kitty Izzy’s birthday. Izzy, now passed almost 5 years, walked through our home a few times right after Sookie arrived. I’d catch her energy out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes Sookie brings through just a bit of Izzy as well.
Happy Birthday to you, dear Sookie. You are a miracle and we can not imagine our world without your love and joy.
And Happy Gotcha Day to both Sookie and Zoey. We love you so much.
Happy gotcha day to Sookie & Zoey!! “she teaches us about giving and receiving unconditionally, helping us to open our hearts to love and acceptance” - yep, that sounds like her ❤️