This Is A Long One

My next post was supposed to be about this week’s move to my new home with my new roommie, Nicole, and my new pet Pit Bull, Kane. As mentioned Nicole was robbed last week. Then her idiot landlord didn’t believe that she was robbed, doubled the rent and told her she and Kane had to go. Shit happens, but we were going to get through it together. Nicole and Kane came to stay with me for a couple days then we would move into the 2 bedroom apartment upstairs together. They would finally be able to settle in after living like gypsies for months, I would save money on the rent and we’d all enjoy the convenience of being together for girl talk, tea time, walks to the beach, yoga on the balcony (with ocean view) and more. It’s only been two days and it is indeed working out perfectly. Kane is happy. Nicole and I compliment each other well and it’s easier to shop for and split the cost of groceries. We can’t wait for dinner parties!

Then BAM! The world crashed. There was no appropriate title for the last post about being robbed. Today, there are no words that can accurately describe what just happened. I’m staring at the computer wondering where to start. It doesn’t seem right to recap the good day we were having, but I will - hanging at home, reading short stories, getting laundry done, roaming through La Feria for fresh fruit and veggies, buying fresh, hot tomales from the neighbor. Lastly, a trek to the beach with JuanCa and the pups to enjoy the last 2 hours of daylight. It was family day.

We took the path you’ve read about before - having good conversation, a few laughs, some Spanish instruction and exercise. The dogs, Kane and Jassy, roamed freely around us and in front of us. They were equally excited to get to the beach for play time.

Nicole put Kane’s leash back on as we approached. I took note and commented, she replied like the good mom she is with “I have to tie him back up until we get past the crocodile.” There’s a spot near the end of the beach where the jungle and ocean meet creating a river through the beach with a pond-like place at the back of the beach. Everyone knows there’s a cocodrilo there so proceed with caution.

We set foot on the beach, removed shoes, walked toward the water and the leash was off. Wahoo, play time! In minutes, no, maybe seconds, Kane was near the pond. We all turned to see only the croc jumping up and forward toward something he wanted really badly. We ran closer, in horror, please don’t let it be. Sound would not come out of my mouth. JuanCa stood speechless as well. Nicole called and called and then screamed. Kane didn’t come. How does one process “my dog got eaten by a crocodile”?

Nicole without Kane or vice versa just isn’t fathomable. He’s her child that she’s taken care of for 8 years. He was all she had left. What the f*** can I say to this woman? I’ve been in this place before and it pained me to see the look in her eyes, to know the emptiness she felt…what do you say to a mother who has lost her child

The bag? Screw the bag. This makes last Saturday seem so insignificant now. What were we thinking to be upset over a few hundreds bucks and an iPod that can all be replaced. Life cannot be replaced. Human or otherwise, life is life, connecting to things, people and places through life is what makes us who we are. Nicole will continue to be Nicole without Kane, but she became Nicole with Kane by her side.

So, we stood bewildered then sat to stare at the ocean. I decided to say as little as possible. I don’t know much, but I do know grief. I know that it’s an individual process that each person needs to find their own way through. The only thing I can do is be there when she needs me, albeit a hug, to sit in silence, to eat ice cream when I’m on a diet or to plan a funeral for her boy.

After a while, time seemed to stop at this point, we moved closer to the spot. She called him again just to be sure, but there was no Kane Dog to come dashing out of the jungle. We sat again, this time as close to the spot as we could be. Nicole searched for her inner strength with closed eyes and Namaste hands. I sat in support of her in cross legged position as well. In those moments I couldn’t help but feel her pain as well as my own. I was reminded of those moments when the casket closed and there would be no more lipstick, shoes, dancing and laughing together. I felt the guilt of not being able to save her myself. I felt helpless with no answers, no reasoning. I hurt for me and the people around me. All one can feel in a moment such as this is that numbness that overcomes you knowing that there is NOTHING to do now, but learn to accept the laws of nature. The natural order of things is to live and then die and we must accept that we cannot always control the length of time in between.

A deep breath and we began to talk a little. The Yogi in her knew she needed to practice what she preaches. It will take long time to heal, and the wound may never fully go away, but she is already actively seeking meaning from this event. She is placing her energy toward accepting it. Her words were “his last moments were happy and adventurous just like him, jut like us, that’s how we lived our lives.”

Leaving without him was tough. I grabbed the leash wondering where I might get a Costan Rican box for it to be stored in. The walk back seemed so much longer than the walk there. It was beginning to get dark and the rain was coming. But, JuanCa had us stop midway at the overlook of the beach and jungle. He pointed out that this is where Kane will remain, the jungle dog that he is. He’ll have all the frogs he wants here!

The rain came down hard, but no one cared. Nicole wanted to scream and we told her it would be okay, she doesn’t need to be strong now. It’s ok to release what is brewing inside. This is too much even for the girl that hikes barefoot and climbs trees to get her own breakfast.



It was only a week that we lived together, but I could already see why he was so loved. His big eyes were gentle. He was friendly and liked to sleep by my bed. I told Nicole I think he was the first dog I ever really loved. Don’t get me wrong people, I know some great dogs out there, luv ‘em all, but this one was quickly becoming like my own. Just this morning I had actually said, “we need a family portrait on our new front steps.”

We got to our street and she didn’t have it in her to go home yet. Yup, I understand that feeling, too. I was actually glad for the 5 hour ride home from NY that day. The extra time in the car and the 12 pack of Bud Light courtesy of Piela prolonged the inevitable of walking into that empty house. I felt guilty leaving her, but something in me felt like maybe she needed some alone time. And, I didn’t have any money on me to go belly up to a bar and hammer the pain away for the rest of the night. So, we parted ways and I sit here wondering if she’s OK, knowing that she is and isn’t, wondering how the upcoming days will go for her, feeling sympathy for her and what lies before her. Grief is grief. You can’t minimize or maximize if for one person or another. It doesn’t go away, you just learn to manage it and live in your new normal. She too will need to learn to “float along the timeline.”

Whoever said to me that living in Costa Rica wouldn’t be that different may need to eat his words. I would say that this is a different kind of day. I will also say that Kane went out bad ass, just like his mama taught him. Dare to be different, dare to be unafraid of what life puts before you. There was no lame ending for him like getting hit by a car. C’mon, how many dogs do that? He went jungle style!