"A Long-Expected Party" (VIII)

"The tents began to go up. There was a specially large pavilion, so big that the tree that grew in the field was right inside it, and stood proudly near one end, at the head of the chief table. Lanterns were hung on all its branches. More promising still (to the hobbits’ mind): an enormous open-air kitchen was erected in the north corner of the field. A draught of cooks, from every inn and eating-house for miles around, arrived to supplement the dwarves and other odd folk that were quartered at Bag End. Excitement rose to its height".

I love this picture, taken from Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Fellowship of the Ring: Gandalf and Bilbo enjoying the preparations, knowing what this birthday party will mean for the hobbit. I love the lights: that of the sun which has set and the lanterns which will make up for its absence. It smells of autumn, which is almost there, as it is almost here. I am extremely tired, having arrived from Alicante in time to have something to eat and rest a bit before my first class of this semester. I, too, am excited.    It's always thrilling to begin a new academic year, meet new students, see again old ones who have decided to take the optional course English Language Literature and Other Artistic Discourses. Granada is more alive in September, with the arrival of students. How can anyone say that autumn is a sad season?

I was thinking that, if it was not today 13 years ago, it was very much around this time that I met for the first time Berlioz and Princesse. Before then, they were just Matthias's dogs, names to which I add added faces, bodies and personalities in my imagination. From that moment, they became part of my family. I miss them so much, but I love them even more.

"A Long-Expected Party" (VI)

It's Sunday today.  I am travelling to Alicante, where I will be a member of the examination board of an excellent Ph.D. thesis on Ted Hughes's children's literature. Things are still hectic in Hobbiton and I don't think Bilbo will have much time to relax the Sunday before his 111 birthday, so I'll leave him writing invitations, preparing gifts and just getting excited - and a bit annoyed at some of his fellow hobbits - while undoubtedly finding the time to smoke a pipe with Gandalf.

Later, much later. In Alicante.
I was already in bed but I've just got up to write this. I need it. I've phoned Matthias when back in the hotel after dinner. When we're not spending the night together, I always ask for every single member of our furry family. Michi, he tells me, is crazy, playing with a ball he thought was lost. "¿Portos y Mani", I ask. "Están fuera". And then, a pang: "Oooh, ¿y mi Pinche?" "Princesse está dentro". She was spoilt and, being an old lady, we allowed her to spend most of the nights inside, particularly in winter. This is going to be the first winter without her company in the sofa. I was thinking a couple of days ago about the next season of The Walking Dead and, bang! Another punch in the stomach thinking that she won't be there, watching it with us.
The pain has caught me again, and I've cried. I've spoken to her, telling her how much I miss her, what I would give to feel her body, her big body, sleeping next to mine, with her sometimes taking most of my side of the bed. I was happy then. And then, I've started remembering, and the memories bring me comfort, although one of them was of the last time she hurt herself trying to jump into bed. I remember being asleep and listening her step going up the stairs (sometimes she would stop if Michi was in the vicinity, but at night he was locked in his room), coming to our bedroom, open the dor (yes! she opened doors!), come in, tip, tip, tip, tip, and jump into bed. Turn, turn, turn, found her place and, sleep time, very often with a sight.
And then, just in a flash, came her face in the morning, when Matthias got up and, if I was still in bed, she would remain there, but looking attentively at Matthias (wow, I see her profile so clearly). Matthias would tell her to stay put until it was time to go for a walk, but the moment he started going down the stairs, she left the bed and followed him. Her happy tail, leaving the bedroom, going down the stairs. God, I miss you, Princesse!