More Strange Stuff

As you know, I follow a Buddhist philosophy in my life. I believe that each soul is born many times until it has learned all of the lessons it needs, then has the choice to move on or to be reborn and help guide others. Due to this continuous rebirth cycle, I believe that we meet many of the same souls time after time. This explains the immediate feeling of like or dislike we often have for people we've just met.

My first dog, Tippy (original, eh?), was as close to me as any person I've ever known. I loved him with all of my heart, and he responded by protecting me as best he could. Several times, when my mom was raging mad, Tippy would get between us, haunches up and teeth bared, growling at her. She was scared, but since Dad never saw this, he didn't believe her, and Tippy stayed.

He was a scraggly little mutt, with a brown muzzle and eyebrows, mostly black fur except for white feet and a white tip on his tail (hence the name). I got him for my 5th birthday, and he died when I was 18. As he got older and sicker, I would sometimes cry and beg him never to leave me. A few days after we buried him, I had my first dream of him. Over the years, I would often dream of him; always with a sense of relief that I'd finally found him after such a long search. In the dreams, I always had the sense that he missed me as much as I did him.

In Nov. 2000, I was in a failing relationship, depressed over that and the election of the night before (I couldn't believe that enough people had voted for him to challenge Gore). That night, I dreamed of Tippy; this time was different. Always before, my dreams of him were set in the house I grew up in. In this dream, he was standing beside my garage. I remember he didn't look the same, but I don't remember what he did look like. The next morning, as I looked out the back window, there was a yellow dog standing next to my garage, a chain dragging from his collar. He was just staring at the house, tail wagging. I went outside to shoo him off, and he ran to me. I loved him immediately. I walked him around the neighborhood, asking him where he lived, and he kept bringing me back to my house. The mailman said he was from a house a few blocks back, and was seriously neglected- usually without water or shelter. He said he'd called the Humane Society, but nothing was done. Baxter stayed. Whether he carries Tippy's spirit in him or not- I don't know. I do know that I have not once dreamed of Tippy since Baxter found me.