This has been such a strange two weeks. I’ve been back to work after losing my dog on September 18. Those first days were like a bad dream, the kind where you barely wake up several times before sinking back into the distorted narrative. I was like a Haitian zombie, going where I was pointed and doing whatever task was at hand without really becoming engaged in any process. Coming back to work helped because I have to think to do my job. Once I had to use my brain again, I had to really deal with my grief. What really helped is the love and support I received from friends and family, and the other dogs and doing their part to provide companionship.
Those of you who don’t know me must wonder how I could be so affected by losing a pet. It’s not like I lost a family member, right? Wrong. For me, this dog filled a hole that was left behind when I realized my child would be an only child. She’s a nearly perfect only child, at least for us, but it wouldn’t be fair to stand her under the waterfall of my frustrated need to baby something. And so, enter the dog. While I was being a strong and supportive mother, encouraging my daughter to go out and fully live her life, I was dressing up the rat dog in costumes, painting her toenails Hot Pink, and scheduling vacations around a four-pound dog’s separation anxiety.
Losing that dog was more than losing an animal companion. I lost the focus of much of my time and energy. This may turn out to be a good thing in a way, but moving through the event has been tough. My usual routine doesn’t fit anymore. Blogging has been hard because I haven’t been reading fiction. I don’t have a good, juicy novel to review for you. I’ve only been reading books on software programs and Ebay 101, useful but not very interesting when turned into a blog topic.
After awhile, my thoughts turned to a book I read a couple of years ago, Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Since it’s been some time since I read the book, and I don’t own it, I’ve pulled some information from Amazon to give you a background for this blog. Here are the two descriptions available from Amazon:
Amazon.com Review
Yann Martel’s imaginative and unforgettable Life of Pi is a magical reading experience, an endless blue expanse of storytelling about adventure, survival, and ultimately, faith. The precocious son of a zookeeper, 16-year-old Pi Patel is raised in Pondicherry, India, where he tries on various faiths for size, attracting “religions the way a dog attracts fleas.” Planning a move to Canada, his father packs up the family and their menagerie and they hitch a ride on an enormous freighter. After a harrowing shipwreck, Pi finds himself adrift in the Pacific Ocean, trapped on a 26-foot lifeboat with a wounded zebra, a spotted hyena, a seasick orangutan, and a 450-pound Bengal tiger named Richard Parker (”His head was the size and color of the lifebuoy, with teeth”). It sounds like a colorful setup, but these wild beasts don’t burst into song as if co-starring in an anthropomorphized Disney feature. After much gore and infighting, Pi and Richard Parker remain the boat’s sole passengers, drifting for 227 days through shark-infested waters while fighting hunger, the elements, and an overactive imagination. In rich, hallucinatory passages, Pi recounts the harrowing journey as the days blur together, elegantly cataloging the endless passage of time and his struggles to survive: “It is pointless to say that this or that night was the worst of my life. I have so many bad nights to choose from that I’ve made none the champion.”
From Publishers Weekly
A fabulous romp through an imagination by turns ecstatic, cunning, despairing and resilient, this novel is an impressive achievement “a story that will make you believe in God,” as one character says. The peripatetic Pi (ne the much-taunted Piscine) Patel spends a beguiling boyhood in Pondicherry, India, as the son of a zookeeper. Growing up beside the wild beasts, Pi gathers an encyclopedic knowledge of the animal world. His curious mind also makes the leap from his native Hinduism to Christianity and Islam, all three of which he practices with joyous abandon. In his 16th year, Pi sets sail with his family and some of their menagerie to start a new life in Canada. Halfway to Midway Island, the ship sinks into the Pacific, leaving Pi stranded on a life raft with a hyena, an orangutan, an injured zebra and a 450-pound Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. After the beast dispatches the others, Pi is left to survive for 227 days with his large feline companion on the 26-foot-long raft, using all his knowledge, wits and faith to keep himself alive. The scenes flow together effortlessly, and the sharp observations of the young narrator keep the tale brisk and engaging. Martel’s potentially unbelievable plot line soon demolishes the reader’s defenses, cleverly set up by events of young Pi’s life that almost naturally lead to his biggest ordeal. This richly patterned work, Martel’s second novel, won Canada’s 2001 Hugh MacLennan Prize for Fiction. In it, Martel displays the clever voice and tremendous storytelling skills of an emerging master.
I’ve been thinking about this book because it was the most surreal reading experience I’ve ever had; nothing before or since has left me feeling so off kilter. The book was a 14-day loan from the campus library and I had no prior knowledge of the writer or the plot. I started reading it at lunch and then spent the next 48 hours immersed in this story. It was a slow read, the Best Friend Read from my rating system because I didn’t want to miss anything and it’s a strange story.
The plot is described above but the reviews don’t convey the reality of the book. I began reading it with full knowledge that it was fiction but somewhere along the way, I forgot that it wasn’t real. I have a hyperactive disbelief mechanism that gets suspended easily, like a piñata at a birthday party. This story grabbed me and I started to believe that a boy could be stranded at sea, in a life boat with a mini-zoo that included a mammal-eating tiger. That’s not the worst of it; I even got caught up in the plot line about the free-floating reed island that housed a complete ecosystem of animals and trees and ate tourists if they didn’t climb a branch at night time. (I can’t explain how suspension of disbelief works, but if you’ve ever gone to the movies and sat through an action/adventure, you’ve probably experienced the same thing.)
At the end of the story where the boy’s tale of shipwreck is deciphered into a metaphor of fellow passengers, murderers, pirates and mental breakdown, I was caught completely off-guard. It took me days to deal with the plot resolution and the sense of incongruity stayed with me for a long time. This is an compelling book, one that is on my must-read list. As much as I love to read, and as many books as I’ve read in my life, this is the only story to really leave me surprised.
Sometimes, they say, life imitates art and these two weeks have had some of that not-real/too-real feeling. Never, never would I have thought that grief for a dog could be this overwhelming, but I’m not overwhelmed. I can pick up one of my other dogs and love it, I can sit down to a project and get excited about it, and I can look forward to a vacation. I’m not starting the vacation planning by worrying about the dog-sitter and that’s a real surprise.
I think that’s what reminded me of Life of Pi, this mix of real and unreal, grief but also knowing that things are going to get better.