juan martinez

juan martinez was a brilliant prosecutor but his personal life was a mess. he had been living with a woman and her 8 year old daughter since the girl was a toddler. he adored them both, but his work was the thing he was married to and if there was a big case, he would never make an effort to squeeze in family time for birthday, holidays (or school recitals). soon the woman gave him an ultimatum about rearranging his priorities but since he was in the final phase of prosecution of a felony murder case, he sadly packed up a suitcase and left. the woman was crying and i was the woman, but in my dream i did not want to hurt that much so i became the girl. the girl was filled with a thousand questions about what she could have done differently to make the only father she had ever known love her enough to stay. in my dream that was too painful as well, so i became the family dog. i knew i was a silver weimaraner because while the girl was sitting in front of a mirror on her bedroom floor drawing pictures she hoped would change the situation, i came up to her and put my paw on her hand. the girl smiled and in return put her hand on my shoulder as thanks. after that i traveled through the house in my dream as a silent observer. like always, the woman readied the house for the holidays in an effort to give the girl comfort, but even though all the pieces of the holiday house looked warm and perfect, there was a sadness because juan was not there. the woman exchanged strained and brief telephone conversations with jaun, handed the happy child the phone and then would go into another room to quietly cry. i tried to cuddled them or give them my ball to throw to take their minds off their sadness, but really, there is only so much a dog can do and in the end it did not lift the sorrow more than a tiny bit, even then it only lasted a few moments.

on christmas eve, a few hours after the woman and her daughter had finished their dinner, opened a couple of small gifts and were sharing a bedtime story by the light of the yule tree, the doorbell rang. it was juan. he was wearing his suit from court that day, but his tie was pulled down and around his neck rested a poorly wrapped christmas wreath with a crumpled bow. he looked silly and vulnerable. the child ran to the door and pulled him in. he wrapped his arms around them both and they all slid to the floor in an emotionally exhausted pile. i watched and wagged my tail tentatively. jaun cleared his throat and with some difficulty said, 'you're right, i need to be here for you both first. i'm sorry and i will do better at making that a priority.' the woman and the little girl cried and smothered him with happy kisses. i went and got my ball and tossed it to jaun. he threw it again and again.