Sadly, I had to put my dear sweet, goofy Bridget to sleep earlier this year. She was 13, which is ancient for a large dog, and her hip dysplasia just got the better of her. The vet very kindly came to house to take care of her. 
Bridget’s a good Irish name. She’s one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Irish deities. Brigid is the Celtic goddess of poetry as well as smithing, arts & crafts, and spring (among other things). She’s also associated with fires and doors. (I swear I read the latter somewhere). My Bridget (full confession time) was also named after the Helen Fielding book. 😉 But my Bridget served as a bit of a muse and guardian. And, those of you familiar with the MEMENTO NORA series know I named the black dog in the story after her. That Bridget guarded the doorway into Black Dog Village, where Micah and his mom lived. Here’s when you first meet Bridget:
From the school, we walked a couple of blocks, across an old pedestrian bridge that ran over the railroad tracks, and then another block to a place called Black Dog Architectural Reclamation and Bakery. The bakery part hung below the main sign on a painted wooden panel.
“Your safe place is a junkyard,” I said, astonished.
It was an old brick building with antique bathtubs and stone gargoyles in one window—and loaves of bread in another. Instead of going in the front door, Micah led me around the side to a wrought iron gate with an Authorized Personnel Only sign hanging on it. A stone wall seemed to encircle the actual junkyard part behind the building.
“Don’t worry, I’m authorized,” Micah said, laughing, as he pushed open the creaky gate.
Once inside, we wound our way through a maze of junk. Stacks of wrought iron fencing. More old-fashioned bathtubs. Stained-glass windows. Doors. As we turned a corner, and I caught a whiff of fresh-baked bread, we ran into a black dog. A big one.
“Bridget, this is Nora,” Micah told the dog. She sniffed me once and then ran back the way she had come, tail wagging as she trotted. “She won’t allow strangers past this point without an introduction.”
We emerged from the junk maze, and Micah opened another gate, this one with a dog flap at the bottom. Bells tinkled as he shut it behind us. Inside was something almost as surprising and wonderful as Winter’s garden.
