One More Thing Before I Go

Last spring when the scent of lilacs followed me from the backyard into my kitchen, I thought of my mother’s distant cousin and her daughters, who, like my lilacs, visited yearly when the earth warmed and the days grew longer. I pictured us all in idyllic memories of jump rope games and playing with dolls. But, except for MaryAnn, the littlest daughter, I could not remember their names.

A few years ago, I could have called my mother. She would have teased me for my forgetfulness, asked what I was making for dinner (there was never a phone conversation where we didn’t talk about food) and repeated her mother-to-daughter mantra, “When are you coming over?” We would have shared stories of those long-ago days before hanging-up and re-joining our lives. But my mother has passed on and while the images of our family lingers-the details are lost. I write One more thing before I go, my living record for my son, in hope that one day, when he has a question I can no longer answer, it can be found in this blog.

If you're a Long Islander, you'll find it hard to believe that about 30 years ago, local animal shelters were running out of strays. North Shore Animal League, partnered with kill shelters in Tennessee, to bring up their doomed puppies for waiting families. Our last 4 dogs are all Tennessee-born. It may have been belated, but I had to send a thank you.

This note should have been sent years ago, but maybe this season of giving is the best time to offer our gratitude for our dog, Fido VI.

Our local shelter on Long Island has partnered with the good people of your state to bring strays up to the city. While we’ve haven’t yet visited Tennessee, our dogs were outstanding Volunteer State ambassadors.

Our first Fido was mostly Afghan. Our latest looks a little Rottweiler with a lot of coonhound. Each one was perfect in our eyes, although Fido VI still hasn’t quite grasped that pillows aren’t chewies and our den couch isn’t a nail file. He’s a work in progress, but a joy to know.

When our son was 6, we adopted Fido III, who lived to see his boy enter college.

Now, Fido VI has our son’s daughters to play with, until they try to dress him like a princess.

Although our NYC houses are small by Tennessee standards, our adopted puppies fit right in. They are the best examples of loyalty, bravery, empathy, huggability, and all had Made in Tennessee stamped into their hearts.

Thank you. I can’t think of a sadder image than coming home to a house with no dog to greet us, and because of your generosity, we never do. So, from the Big Apple to the Volunteer State, have a Merry Christmas and healthy 2018 with prayers that you’ll never have any worries that a dog by your side can’t ease.

Adrienne Leslie

Adrienne Leslie

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