AMIK – Builder of Dreams

As a writer, I tend to look at things not just as they are but also for their symbolic meaning. For instance, a sunrise isn't just about the sun peaking up over the horizon; but it's about hope for a new beginning. And a sunset isn't just about the end of the day; it's about letting go of what was and trusting that something wonderful will take its place. So when a series of synchronistic events collided on the first day of summer, my husband and I put aside all rationality and let the moment take us, for there had to be a poetic reason for what had taken place

On Monday of that week, I was at a philosophy circle and we were discussing death and dying. I thought I had let my Great Pyrenees, Morgan, go emotionally, but I guess with her ashes still on the bookshelf and her picture leaning against it, I hadn't. I pondered why I thought I still needed her and when I realized my true nature, I knew I was being selfish and had to let her move on too.

So Tuesday morning after I scampered about doing some chores, I gathered myself and the urn and headed up to the highest point of land and began a ceremony. I said my thank you's and goodbyes, and at the strike of noon, a good breeze came up and I released her to soar above. "Remember who you are Morgan. Remember who you are."

The next day, our neighbour Shirley came up with the people who bought her cottage to show them how everything worked. The friends went off for a walk and Margaret took a wrong turn and ended up at our place just as I was telling Shirley about Morgan. "Oh," said Margaret. "We were just offered a puppy this morning. Are you interested?"

"What kind," I asked just to make conversation. My husband and I had talked about getting another dog, but then we realized we'd been enjoying our freedom.

"A Great Pyrenees," called out Fred. Alan and I looked at each other and our jaws dropped. What are the odds? "Let me call the guy and see if it's still available," said Fred.

Next thing we knew, we were driving down to Lindsay to meet the breeder and the puppy, and again we talked about whether or not we wanted to do this. Neither of us was strongly for it, but the circumstances were just too odd. Our plan was to see the puppy and tell the breeder that since this happened so fast, we needed the night to think about it. But when we pulled into the parking lot and saw him, we knew we were dead.

Steve and his daughter greeted us and introduced us to Tyson. What a happy little fella! People walked by and he was just so friendly – and so too were they. We of course had to take him home with us. Steve's wife had written up some notes on how to care for him and when I saw that their last name was the same as my husband's, I knew this was meant to be – that there had to be some greater design at play.

The little guy cuddled up on my lap all the way home while Alan and I talked about his name. Tyson was cute, but our kids associated it with the boxer and thought it had bad karma. After a day of calling him puppy, we settled on Amik. We were supposed to go canoeing in Quetico Provincial Park and Amik was one of the lakes there. When we looked it up it meant builder of dreams, and so it stuck.

As I wrote in my journal what had happened - letting go of Morgan's ashes one day and magically receiving Amik the next – I began to wonder what dreams he might help build, and the best dream I could think of was one of a world filled with kindness and generosity. And darned if that's not what he brought to all who met him his first weekend home– kindness and generosity. His joy and excitement and innocence and dependence made us all better people.

You know, maybe we should have called him Sunset to remind us of the joy that can come by letting go of what was and trusting that something wonderful will take its place.