The Year of the Scarf, Mina

I see the Year of the Scarf as a way to remember my dogs while they are alive. In remembering, I honor my interpretation of their stories. I hope they don't mind.

This is Mina's confident pose with an orange and purple hued scarf. She would wear this to a job interview and nail it. The interview, not the scarf.

Mina has not always been brave.

True story time!

During my university stint at Davis, I lived in a big house (five rooms, big by my standards). There was a glass table with chairs on the front porch. I enjoyed sitting with roommates and drinking a cup of coffee.

It seemed important for Mina to be with me at available times. I brought her out with me, her to lay down and me read a book. I was stupid. Mina's world involved safe zones - my room, the living room, the kitchen. Not the upstairs bedrooms, the dining room, and assuredly not the front porch.

I looped her leash around the table, settled into a chair and began reading.

Mina was horrified. I cannot fully express how troubled she was by this movement away from safety into terrifying new worlds. So of course she reacted poorly. Upon feeling the restraint of the leash as it tugged against the glass table, she balked. Leaping away towards the front door, I could only gasp in shock as my book and table disappeared...the book flopping uselessly to the ground, the table a little more dramatic.

Glass shattered everywhere. This did not endear the table to Mina. She planted herself at the front door, staring intently at the doorknob, waiting for me to get a clue. No one was hurt but it was a reminder that Mina missed out on so much the two or three years spent in a garage (or some other dark, confined space).

Mina aged perfectly and confidently. Mina at 15 is different than Mina at 4. I love senior Mina more than is probably physically possible. I loved junior Mina but it came with a lot of fears and struggles and concerns. We stuck through it, though. Super glad about that.