Oscar was lost and then he was found

How my dog helped me quit drinking

Oscar arrived shortly after our move and provided a wonderful distraction and replaced what was missing in my life as only, he could with his larger-than-life personality. I don’t know if he was a dog or an avatar, but he taught me to love with an open heart.

I have asked a few psychics since his death in 2019. Where did he come from? Where is he now? No one is able to tell me anything about him. Was he Maharaji? I am everywhere.

This mangy dog arrived out of nowhere one cold February day in 2008, after my son mistakenly (if there is such a thing) left the garage door open.

The next morning when I opened the back door to the garage there was a small starving creature greeting me. I shrieked looking down at this Boston Terrier who was skin and bones, not neutered or house-trained. He ran into the house like he owned it (and soon enough he did); he had the most abundant joyful spirit.He gulped the dog food down that I purchased in one second and drooled for more, but otherwise didn’t seem in any kind of distress even though he had been out in freezing cold temperatures and neglected, maybe abused.

Four years later it was just Oscar and me living in that small rental in Asheville. I was staying in an AirBnB until Husband and I found a permanent spot.

I looked forward to at the end of each day at the stress job I started. To have a drink and sit with Oscar. Alcohol was my friend. Husband would visit when he could. He felt discombobulated and alone, up north waiting for his time to make the move south so that we could be together. I abruptly decided to quit my job. It had only been a month since I started there but I didn’t want to deal with the stress. It truly was a madhouse and the addicts were running the show demanding benzos. My predecessor was liberal with a prescription pad and I wasn’t. The outpatient facility was in it for profit with little regard for staff or clients. Just get them in the door and out the door. I felt liberated the night Oscar disappeared. I went to yoga and called Husband and we got into an argument when I noticed that Oscar wasn’t there.

I had let Oscar outside and got distracted. When I called his name, he didn’t come to the door, which was unusual. I hung up and circled the dark yard and noticed that the fence was missing in one spot. Did he get loose? I exited the house and started walking down the street calling his name. An hour later I was in a panic, calling Husband back. He calmly said check under the house. I leaned down and called his name—nothing. I called the police as tears were rolling down my eyes. My dog was missing. They didn’t seem to care. The shelters were closed. Call in the morning. My thoughts were running wild: Did someone kidnap him? Did he wiggle out of an opening in the fence and get loose? Was he hit by a car and not yet discovered? Was he dog bait for pit bull fighting? My imagination went wild.

My prayers were unrelenting to Mother Mary, God, and St. Francis. I saw Hanuman the Indian monkey God in the corner of the room. He provided me with reassurance and a nudge of what to do, I suddenly offered a promise to Mother Mary. Please Mother just let me know where Oscar is…but if you bring him back to me alive then I will stop drinking for the rest of my life. Amen.

The next morning was a pristine cold morning with a stillness that was bittersweet. I call out to Oscar and nailed signs to telephone poles feeling sad and vulnerable. I drew two tarot cards, the death card and the sun. I waited until the shelters opened to call and find out if he was brought there, and was told no. I sat holding the phone grief stricken when I heard a whimper. Maybe Husband was right, maybe he is underneath the house.

I shimmied under the house and got as far as I could but, the beam prevented me from seeing much even with a flashlight. I crawled out relieved to be out of there, but frustrated, I came up with nothing. I called the fire department. No, they were sorry they don’t help with these types of things. A no-nonsense friend of the owner of the home, listened to my plight. She was covering for the owner and told me that she was sorry to hear but cautioned me not to damage the house. She agreed to try to call a few contractors to see if they can help.

One of the contractors shows up within the hour. Louis was kind and sympathetic and seemed to understand what had happened, even though he didn’t speak English. His brown eyes showed compassion and concern. He nodded as I mimed what happened.

He went around to the back of the house and went in and out of the quickly; hurrying away from the undesirable crawl space as I had done earlier. He then ingenuously, walked to the other side of the house where there was a window well. A tiny space. He knocked out the covering and tried to peer in. He looked at me and said that he thought he saw a raccoon. I wondered if it was dead or alive.

He then went back reluctantly to crawl under the house again. I remain on the side of the house looking up at the sky. I get the intuitive message to start pulling the insulation out of the window well hole. I pull and pull and then hear a yelp. Oscar was there but stuck. I yelled for Louis who quickly came back to where I was, he asked for a shovel displaying with his hands the tool he needed. None was to be found so he started to dig Oscar out with his own efficient hands. Oscar’s head was lodged under a beam and by digging a tunnel for him he was able to free himself. It truly was a miracle.

Oscar joyfully ran out of the hole shaking himself off like nothing had happened. He seemed a little embarrassed and sheepish. I turned towards Oscar feeling the greatest joy and gratitude and then the grief hit me hard. It slammed into my heart. Oscar is fine, but alcohol is now gone from my life forever.Ah…the tarot cards death and the sun. Exhausted and now sober, I say goodbye to Louis and insist he take money that I offer him. He nods that it isn’t necessary, but thanks me. I find out afterwards that his sister is a yoga teacher in town, no surprise.