I was a cat person. I'd argue with my brother how superior cats
were to dogs. Cats have eyes that glow in the dark, they sound like a motorboat
when they purr, they’re mysterious, they aren’t obvious like dogs, and they can
even bathe themselves. But one day, there was a little dog in a shelter, gazing
up at me. My heart flipped over and it's never flipped back. Within two days, I
was so in love with the new puppy, my preference switched to dogs. (I called my
brother and we laughed when I told him he was right in our friendly
debates of dogs vs. cats.)
Metro lived from 1994 to 2008. If you knew me during that time,
she was my constant companion and my favorite conversation topic. There’s a
saying: “Everyone thinks they have the best dog, and they’re all correct.”
But, Metro, well, she was something special. She won first place in Puppy
Kindergarten and was awarded Miss Congeniality. To celebrate, I bought a tiny
tiara that still sparkles near her photograph. I’m reminded of her goodness and
sweet nature every time I see it twinkle.
She was so full of joy and happiness—she made every day, every
ordinary moment--special and unique. I longed to spend more time with her and
my two other dogs. I retired early and moved to a small mountain cabin in Big
Bear, California. Being with the pups all the time was a dream come true.
After Metro passed, I was pretty lost, and I’d daydream about her
every morning. I started writing little letters to her about our life together,
the fun times we had, and the moments we shared that became such treasured
memories. I started looking forward to the ritual of drinking coffee and
writing the Metro letters. It was healing—it lightened my heart, made the whole
day better, and it seemed as though she was still with me. Instead of feeling
sad, I smiled as I wrote. I did this for months, and eventually put the letters
in a drawer, though the Metro torch still burned bright.
A year later, a friend liked a poem I had written about a spider.
She said I should write more about the spider. I didn’t want to write about the
spider, but it sparked an idea. I told my friend I once had an amazing dog
named Metro—maybe I could write a little something about her!
The next day, I went to the drawer and retrieved all the letters.
The “little something about Metro” became a book series. As a child, I was
an avid reader, and especially loved series. (I remember Nancy Drew had a cat,
but there was only a couple paragraphs about it. I craved more words about
her cat!)
Once I started writing, I couldn’t stop, and my imagination took
over. Some of the adventures are true and some are fiction. When I speak at
schools, kids guess which adventures are true. I encourage children to write
their own stories.
Susie with Sugar and Curry |
1. Metro Comes Home
2. Metro Goes to Hollywood
3. Metro Goes Stargazing
4. Metro Duets
In this time of pandemic and Stay-At-Home orders, I’m so grateful
I have my current little dogs: Sugar and Curry (sweet and savory). I look to
them for sanity, truth, and brightness. They are cuddlers and clowns, and
inspire me every day.
4 comments:
Susie, thank you for joining us this weekend at Romancing The Genes. Metro's books bring joy and happiness into people lives and, hopefully inspire them to look for their own Metro, Sugar or Curry.
I've always loved your Metro books. They are great not only for those who love dogs and cats, but for all the middle-grade children who love sweet, uplifting books that make them smile while teaching them about how amazing pets can be.
Susie, your wonderful relationship with Metro and other pets shines through in your stories. I love that you encourage children to write their own stories. You are an inspiration!
What a sweet post. And a lovely way to immortalize Metro had help to inspire both children readers and writers. I have a friend who has been saying for years (like you) that she wants to write dog stories about her dogs, and she has some fantastic ideas. So I hope one of these days, she does.
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