The tale of how Noise came to rest on the couch next to me will forever remain entwined within the grand fabric of the Universe… but where is the fun in leaving all those wondrous events shrouded in mystery forever?
Speculation, after all, is a vessel for myth, which in turn is a breeding ground for dreams.
Our contrived tale begins somewhere along the Sinai Peninsula, in a time of conflict between Egypt and Israel. Noise’s great grandmother, Hathor, had given birth to a litter of seven. The first born being Ma’at, named after the Egyptian Goddess of truth, justice and balance, would become a pillar of wisdom and power to the Canaan Dog breed, and notably, Noise’s grandmother. After years of companionship to the surrounding desert people and loyalty to her pack, Ma’at left our world while in labor with a litter of three. With her last breathe Ma’at named her only daughter, Isis, after the Egyptian fertility Goddess and Goddess of magic and healing. The nomadic tribes of the desert took in Isis and her brothers, and becoming acquainted with the ways of mankind they each set forth to make their mark on the world.
Thoth, Noise’s eldest Uncle, found companionship with an Egyptian Philosopher and lived out his days in deep, fruitful contemplation and discourse with the scholar. Sobek, the younger of the brothers, became a legendary herder of Nile Crocodiles. His left paw remains enshrined on the bank of the Nile in Cairo. Finding companionship with an Israeli Folk troupe, Isis, Noise’s mother, embarked on a pilgrimage west to the self-proclaimed “live music capitol of the world”, Austin, Tx. Shortly after their arrival to the states, the pressures of the music industry caused the troupe to disband. Isis found solace in the company of an elderly Lebanese fortuneteller living in Austin’s surrounding hill country. It was here that Noisewater and his bother Footloose were born.
Sadly, while in town one evening running errands, Isis was struck and fatally wounded by a hipster driving a turquoise moped. Unable to care for two puppies the fortuneteller was forced to relinquish both Noise and Footloose to the SPCA for adoption.
Note: The following accounts are based on actual events
It was a pleasant August day in Austin when Greg approached me with the notion of getting a dog. We were both new residents to the city and Greg, working from home with little outside contact during the day hours, felt a need for companionship. So on a whim we set off for a stroll down South Congress. It was here, atop a small embankment just off the city street, the SPCA had set up an adoption station. Volunteers busied themselves talking to interested adopters and coaxing passersby to venture over to have a look at the furry, adorable animals.
Couples and individuals alike sauntered between the waist high metal pens where a handful of seemingly happy puppies played. Lost in my own mind for a moment I snapped to and looked around to find Greg staring down at a pint sized, yellowish ball of fur that in turn, was sitting, staring right back up at him. Walking over as Greg bent down to pick up the little creature, I knew I was bearing witness to a moment that would forever alter our lives. Holding the little ball of fuzz inches from his face, Greg and the pup locked eyes and seemed to gaze deeply into each others' soul. A volunteer hurried over attempting to convince us to adopt, but unbeknownst to him the deed was already done. It felt as if events, set in motion long ago, had brought us to this moment and we had committed to taking this little life force with us long before we had arrived that day.
Back at the apartment we prepared a warm bath, as per the instruction of the volunteer who helped us with the paper work, and rinsing the soap from his fur the purest white coat began to reveal itself. After drying the kid off Greg and I stood in amazement at the transfiguration that had just taken place. Later that evening we sat beneath a wondrous Live Oak sipping wine while watching the newest member of our crew familiarize himself with his new home. While keeping our gaze fixed on the ball of white tumbling in and out of the lush, green ivy on the courtyard floor Greg spoke his name, “Noisewater”
