Sassy May Have Started My Second Book

I didn’t really intend to, but I think I’ve started the second book, the one about our dog Penny. Weirdly, I’m pretty sure I wrote the last chapter first! It feels accidental!

Here’s what happened:

The North Coast Squid is a biennial journal that is published by the Hoffman Center for the Arts, a lovely arts center located where I live in Oregon. Two years ago, my essay, “Missing Parts” (which later became Chapter One of Wreckage), was published in the journal.  I presented a portion of it at the spoken word event to launch that edition.

Well, the submission period for this year’s journal just ended, and a few days before the deadline, I decided I should submit something. I had a few different ideas and knew I wanted to focus on something other than the topics in Wreckage. It felt like my writing was ready for a change.

I was under a bit of pressure, given that I’d waited until right before the cutoff date, which turned out to be a gift of sorts, in that I just started writing. I didn’t have time to overthink or analyze. (I don’t know about the rest of you writers out there, but I’ve found that too much thought hinders the creative process!)

I started thinking about two dogs that had been in our lives. Penny, our beloved pet who passed away last year and Sassy, a dog we fostered for a few months. I wondered what Penny would think of Sassy, whom we immediately saw as her much smaller doppelganger. We’d wondered if maybe the two dogs, who had never met, were long-lost cousins.

My musing led to the essay, which I’m calling “Mini Penny.” In the story, the spirit of Penny, watching from above, “meets” Sassy in our back yard and has a relationship – of sorts – with her. She tries to mentor and guide her, much as she would have (I’m sure!) if they had met in real life. She tells Sassy of her own traumatic early life, her time with us, and the things she learned. She tries to help Sassy feel comfortable with us, her foster parents.

Happy Mini Penny, Sassy

Sassy spent the first seven years of her life in a “puppy mill” and has given birth to many, many litters. She had surgery to remove mammary tumors and to be spayed, the day before we picked her up. She was afraid of us and, it seemed, didn’t know how to be a dog. She didn’t bark or make any noise, and she wasn’t interested in treats. (What dog does not like treats?!?)  She didn’t seem to understand what a leash was and, although she would “go along” on walks, she didn’t stop to sniff or greet other dogs. She seemed very sad and downtrodden.

In the essay, Penny tries to perk her up and give her some hope, before realizing Sassy will need to find her own way.

What Penny doesn’t yet know (but will maybe learn in an epilogue?) is the happy ending for Sassy. On New Year’s Day our son adopted Sassy. She is growing into a safe and happy life. She loves treats. She’s barking at the mail delivery person. She’s wagging her tail!

It makes us so happy to see Sassy blossom. And we miss our Penny even more.