A tail of jealousy
Anna Quindlen's new book about her dead dog, Beau, has me thinking about jealousy.
I thought I was beyond jealousy, mature enough to say "Good for her" and mean it. "Good for her," I said about a friend who got a face lift and porcelain teeth and implants and looks 40, not 60. And I mean it, good for her. (But please don't pose me next to her for a picture again!)
"Good for her," I said about my good friend Anne, who bought a house on the water in Maine. ("Come up any time," she says.) "Good for her," I said when a much younger friend got a lot of money and a contract for a first novel.
Great. Wonderful. Congratulations. This is what I think whenever something good happens to someone I know or even someone I don't know. Because that's how I feel most of the time, blessedly free from the insecurities and jealousies of youth.
But not this time.
The picture of Beau, a black Labrador retriever, on the cover of Quindlen's book turned me instantly into a not very likeable 14-year-old.
But this time, I wasn't jealous of my friend Elaine Rooney with her pretty straight hair and her Grace Kelly looks, a cheerleader when I didn't make the team. Because I don't want these things anymore.
I am jealous of Anna Quindlen because I want what she has - her dog on the cover of a book.
This feeling - self-indulgent and infantile - is the same as it was so many years ago. One hundred proof. Not diluted at all.
And it stuns me.
The only good news is it passed as quickly as it came. That's the difference between then and now. I was jealous of Elaine Rooney for at least a year, maybe three. But this why her dog and not mine? ludicrousness flared for about 10 minutes. And then it was gone.
But I am amazed that it still lives within me.
Maybe if the dog had been a poodle or a greyhound or a terrier and not a beautiful old black Lab with the fuzz around his lips gone white, just like Molly's, and sad, wise eyes just like Molly's, and cute ears and flat fur, just like Molly's, I wouldn't have wanted to throw myself on the ground and wail. And maybe if I hadn't, after Molly died, put everything I'd written about her and every picture I ever took in a file with the intention of someday organizing the pieces into a book, I'd have felt less disappointed in myself.
Because I didn't do it and Anna Quindlen did.
That's where jealousy begins, isn't it? With self. If only I had followed up, tried harder, taken a chance, stuck to it. "I coulda been a contender."
Quindlen named her book "Good Dog. Stay." I would have named mine "The Tail Goes On." The point is the same. Stay. Let me remember you. Let me tell the tales.
"Molly, want a bagel?" That's what we had to yell to get her to come. Not "Come here, girl." Not a whistle. Not a "Now!"
She jumped on everyone until she got too old to jump. She raced away whenever we said, "Stay!" She flunked obedience school. She had four abdominal surgeries for eating - in chronological order - a tube sock, panty hose, a dish towel, and assorted underwear. Her veterinarian said she had separation anxiety; that's why she was eating things. He put her on Prozac. She ate a Christmas tie.
PBS came to film her once. They were doing a segment on dogs that misbehave. She had a starring role.
She also had a place at the kitchen table. Not in the beginning, when she wasn't allowed near what we were eating. But in the middle of her life, when she pretty much she did what she wanted.
She wanted to be with us. So she balanced herself on a chair at mealtime. And crawled up on the couch and put her head in our laps at nighttime. And crept up the stairs and on top of the covers at bedtime.
We told her a million times, "No, Molly. No!" But she didn't listen.
She hated suitcases because she hated when we left her. She'd see them in the front hall and all 85 pounds of her would sag.
In the end, she left us.
It's been 3 1/2 years. I haven't written a book. But I haven't forgotten her.
Beverly Beckham can be reached at bbeckham@globe.com. Listen to Beverly read and talk about her columns in her weekly podcast at boston.com/news/podcasts. 