The Rowdy Goddess

An Ecstatic Vision of the Goddess, dancing in harmony with the Universe.

Archive for the tag “Bob”

Bob the Dog

I’ve written a lot about my dogs over the years, here in this blog and in my books. Now they’ve both passed into the Summerlands and it feels funny to write things without them.

This is a tribute to Bob the Dog, pictured here at age 13, peacefully dreaming. He lived another year. Bob was a very enthusiastic and loving dog, embodying what I often called “Joie de Bobbie,” since he loved life.
I also called him the High Hopes Dog and often hummed the high hopes song. One time, the man who co-owned the dogs with me took them out running. On their way home, they met one of my neighbors who was carrying the deer he had gotten. The neighbor put the deer down and started chatting. Then he started laughing. Both men turned around and saw Bob trying to tug the deer carcass away! Always hopeful, nothing was too large for Bob to overcome.

Bob was also very into the energy of the pagan circle. Several times, he made his way into the circle. Once when the sacred masculine energy was invoked, Bob came into circle, plopped himself in the middle and started liking his private parts. That cracked us up and was so fitting to the ritual. Once he came into the center as the priestess was leading the circle in a meditation on the birth of the Sun King. “You are my Sun King” is another one of his theme songs.

Even at his most feeble and tired, Bob greeted us with a wagging tale and a bright eye. Mike and I were both with him when he passed. It was the day after our wedding and we were talking and he was in the center of our circle when we realized that he was passing. I stroked him as he struggled with his last breaths. Finally his poor old heart gave out and he exhaled. I could feel his spirit romp to the next life, with wagging tale and supple body. He’s still here in my heart. I miss him very much and he graced my life with many stories and a lot of joy.

His death was smelly and messy and Mike and I were there to take care of it. Since he died at home, we decided to take his remains for cremation the next day. As we were driving, I rolled down the window telling Mike the smell was overpowering. Then we both laughed. Bob had a way of keeping us intensely present and engaged in all of his actions, basic and sublime.

He runs with the Goddess, Lady Artemis who protected him and loved him all his life. I am grateful to Her for all the critter blessings.
Bob the Dog 1995-2009 was a wonderful companion, pal, and guy.
Fare-thee-well till we meet again.

The Bob Collection, or a good Bob is hard to find

Okay if you know me, you know that I find this picture hilarious. It’s from a library vendor hawking its digitzing wares. It’s just funny. For a very long time, I worked with Bob, the librarian. A friend of mine worked with someone who self-identified as “Bob, the blind guy.”
And of course there’s Bob the dog. I’ve written a lot about my dogs because they are wonderful, loving creatures and they’ve taught me a lot. My new book, The Wild God, was recently sent to press and will be out soon, devotes some time to Bob. Bob is efficient and rather tubby. We reduced his food and put him on a diet. He reduced his activity to maintain his physical presence. Several years ago, I used to double check to make sure he wasn’t dead, he was so still that he seemed to hardly breath. A few months ago, Mouse did the same thing, calling, “Bob, wake up. Are you still alive.”
He is efficient. He lies on his back in complete relaxation. If I walk by, he’ll wag only his tail to show he’s glad to see me. It is slightly obscene. He lies on his back, completely open and all of his privates open to the entire world and all that moves is his tail. Or maybe so natural that our so-called civilized morality can’t really comprehend it without labeling it as something naughty.
So I do collect Bobs. The first time we went to our current vet, I introduced Bob to him as “Meet Bob the dog.” To which the vet replied, “Hello Bob, I’m Bob-the-Vet.” One of my friends is married to Bob-the-Statistician, or Bob-the-Husband. I’ve met Bob-the-Postman and even Bobbi-the-art-historian [don’t tell her I said that!]. We are gender equitable in our Bob collecting.
There’s a local Druid clan and one time I met a Bob there. Bob the Druid. I was in heaven!!
Another time I attended one of Michael Harner’s Way of the Shaman workshops. I’ve done shamanic journeywork for many years and my first teacher generously taught us all she knew. I wanted to take the course in case I ever got the opportunity and money to take some of the more advanced courses. Anyway, I met a guy there named, you guessed it, Bob. I was being very friendly and chattery and said “That’s fabulous. Bob the Shaman!” and briefly explained my Bob collection. He was not amused. Really not amused. Good thing it was a large workshop. The second day might have been uncomfortable if it had been smaller. He could pretend I didn’t exist very nicely. Nevertheless. Bob the Shaman. I do tell Bob the dog that he is a good Bob; good Bobs are hard to find.

My rowdy sense of humor remains intact.

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