The Dogs of Dreamtime
by Karen Shanley
Summary
Dogs of Dreamtime is the story of one woman’s deep connection with her three very different dogs, and the extraordinary emotional journey they embark on together: “Their banshee wails reached through my dreams and dragged me back ..” This call of the coyotes turns out to be a signal that Karen Shanley’s journey with her dogs is coming full circle. She is about to be offered a chance at redemption, with one condition: She has to find a way to recapture her faith in life itself. Her story will have you laughing, crying, and nodding your head in understanding.
Excerpt
She was just sitting there, cool as a cucumber, staring right up at me. She was so still, I wasn’t sure she was real. As I inched forward for a closer look, I could see her bright eyes blink and her body vibrate with excitement. She was exceedingly happy to see that I’d come, but she was more concerned with making sure I got a real good look at her, and that I burned the picture into my brain. Until I did, she was unwilling to move. I can’t tell you how I knew this exactly; it was something in the way she locked her eyes onto mine. So I took in as much of her as I could and committed it to memory.
No more than eight weeks old, with round puppy tummy, she was obsidian black, with fluffy white shawl around neck and chest. She had a white muzzle, with a blaze traveling up and over the top of her head, meeting up with a white scruff between shoulders. Four white socks. Little tan eyebrows. No tail.
As I was busy soaking in every detail, I could have sworn I heard her say, “I’ve come back to be with you.”
This startled me so much that I woke up.
The dream had been so vivid and so real that, for a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. Could it be possible…?
My beloved Sheltie, Kiera, at eleven years, had died from a brain tumor not quite one year before. She’d been my unswerving friend and safehold through some of the most significant changes in my life. She’d seen me through changes in relationship, career, and geographic location, as well as the milestones of marriage, birth, and death. Her presence had always had the effect of steadying me in a way that no other could. I tried to offer her as much when it came time for me to let her go.
I’d prayed that I could know when that day was, and, mercifully, my prayers were answered. It came on a calm fall morning, shortly after we’d exhausted all the treatments available. Disoriented and unbalanced, Kiera could no longer stand up. She couldn’t eat. She wouldn’t drink. I called the vet. He agreed to come to our house so she could die peacefully in my arms, in her home. I cradled her, whispering gently, telling her over and over how much I loved her, stroking and kissing her beautiful face, my tears staining her fur, until she took her last breath.
After the vet left, I sat holding her for a long while, unwilling to give up the feel of her in my arms. After some time, Andrew gently helped me take the next step. He went and got the blanket I’d planned to wrap her in. It was her favorite blanket, one that I’d made for her when she was a puppy. Then we buried her under the shade of an arching ash tree by my garden.
Reviews
"Dog lovers will enjoy this tale and share Shanley's passion for her dogs"--Publishers Weekly
"A beautiful story, beautifully told. Recommended"--Library Journal