I Have a Patronus and It's -NOT- a Pig

First off, thank you all so much for the love and kindness. I won't, can't, reply to your comments, it's too hard, but thanks to everyone that took a moment to offer support and comfort. It really does mean a lot to me. I miss Haiku so much. I hope no one else has to experience the pain, loss, and emptiness I'm feeling. But I guess that's the price we pay to love anyone else. And I do hope that everyone gets to experience the love, joy, and happiness that little dog brought to me. Life. Weird. Complicated. Worth it.

Truby and I are starting to have adventures again! It's still quite warm here, upper 90s, but the mornings are cool, and soon prime riding weather will be here. But today I want to share something almost magical that happened earlier this week.

I've been grieving for Haiku, obviously, and it's been hit or miss as too how well I've been handling that. The shock has worn off, and it's time to deal with feelings. It's the worst. I was kinda doing okay, but then Sunday I started doing poorly. Really yucky in the headspace. Anyone that's dealt with depression or other mental health issues probably knows the feeling. My thoughts keep chasing each other around. All negative. All hurtful. All angry and unhappy. Should I manage to redirect off one train of thought, I just latched on to another equally gross feeling. I couldn't get out of it, and Monday it just got worse. My brain was a swirling cesspool of miserable thoughts and feelings. Not just of loss, but everything I could throw in there. I couldn't escape it. I began to resign myself to many days of misery.

I woke up early Tuesday morning, about 3 am. No reason, just couldn't sleep. I went out to the living room to waste time on the internets until I either fell asleep, or it was late enough to get up and do something. I was bitter about my insomnia. Bad enough to have such a nasty mental state, and now I couldn't even sleep through it.

Just before 4 am, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I assumed it was someone walking their large dog past the apartment. A minute later, I saw another "dog" go past, but definitely no person. I stared in interest, maybe they were coyotes? And then a large shape passed right in front of the window. Too big and blocky to be a coyote...but maybe a bobcat?

So I did what any other sane person would do, I grabbed my phone and slipped out onto the porch. The early morning was quiet and absolutely still. Walking down the sidewalk that runs alongside our apartment, were javelinas. 

They were surprising quiet, especially for such bulky creatures. I could hear the gentle  tap tap tap of their hooves on the sidewalk. And the occasional, soft grunty grunt as they snuffled the ground.

They went past me, obviously in no hurry, and with no concern. They seemed perfectly comfortable, like they were exactly where they wanted to be, and going exactly where they wanted. They may have tapity tapped on the sidewalk, but they were almost silent on the stones. 

I watched them for just a few minutes, and saw 8 javelinas. I don't know where they came from. I'm not really sure where they went. Our complex is enclosed on all sides by 5 foot high adobe walls, and iron gates too narrow for them to get through. I suppose they could have followed a car in, but it seems unlikely, unless the herd was ready and waiting to dash in! 

This group was calm and unhurried. After the last one passed out of sight, I sighed, and slipped back into the apartment - and smack into my husband. He had heard me open the door, and woke up to investigate. We both scared the bejesus out of each other! I told him about the javelinas I had seen. We went out to look, but they were gone. 

I showed him the pictures I had taken, and told him about it. I was so excited! Husband was interested, but soon went back to sleep. I was too giddy to sleep, but I didn't feel gross. Just excited. And finally, just after dawn, I slept.

I awoke late morning, and went about my day. I realized something, that afternoon. My thoughts were clear. My brain was peaceful. I was no longer battling constant ugly thoughts. I had control about what I thought about - and could dismiss unpleasant ideas. How angry that jerk client from 3 days ago made me? I could forget that. My worry that my boss was mad at me? I could let that go. Random frustrations? Gone. I've done a lot to try and manage my mental health problems, and it's never been this easy to get out of a bad place. 

It was the javelinas.

I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, but I feel that those javelinas come through to chase away my unhappy, twisted thoughts, and bring some peace. The whole event felt so unreal, even at the time. It was so quiet. So peaceful. So perfect. Javelinas are common in this area, sure. They're not common inside my apartment complex. There's much better places for them to scavenge, that are easier for them to get to. 

I don't really care what anyone thinks, or if it sounds silly. I believe those javelinas came to help me. I've always kinda liked javelinas, I think they're neat. But I never was super into them. That may have changed. I feel a kinship with them. These strange not-pigs really helped me. I will always remember that, and be grateful. 

Thank you, javelina friends! Your gift was much appreciated, at a time when it was also much needed. 

Photo credit: Southwest Wildlife Conservation