Vegas’ Song
I recently found out that I have Synesthesia. Essentially, my senses are cross-wired. I see my numbers in colors, certain smells have human names, and certain colors have tastes. I only recently discovered this because I mentioned something to my fiance that he found odd: I asked him what color he saw his numbers in. It never occurred to me that others didn’t perceive things the same as me. Now that I know my way is not necessarily how everyone perceives things, I am more conscious of where I do this, and when I’ve done this. Synesthetes describe their sense in a language that most wouldn’t understand. For instance, I can tell you that my 5’s are orange and my A’s are red. My fiance’s name, Wes, tastes like lemon, and he smells like blue. Kind of sounds strange, doesn’t it?
But this story really isn’t about my Synesthesia – it’s about my lost love, “Vegas”. The foster dog that I tried to rehabilitate and couldn’t. In realizing that I have Synesthesia, I realize that Vegas is a song to me. He always has been – even before he died. The first time I heard the song, I was in my car listening to a radio show whose guest star was Tori Amos. When asked her current favorite song, she said “Rose Rouge” by St. Germain. I had never heard of St. Germain, but as soon as the song came on, I knew this song was Vegas. Even though Vegas was named after the group, “Dirty Vegas”, and their song, “Days Gone By” came on the radio literally as I was driving home, sobbing, after putting Vegas to sleep. This other song, “Rose Rouge”, to me, epitomizes Vegas. I still get teary when “Days Gone By” plays, but I realize that it’s not synesthesia: its association. How do I know this? Because when I hear “Rose Rouge”, I am not sad because I lost Vegas; I feel his presence. It’s like he is right there with me, sitting next to me, bobbing his head up and down in time to the music. I feel love and peace, like he never left.
I won’t get into every single detail as to why I had to put Vegas down. I will just say that he had behavior problems from the beginning. He had been adopted three times and returned three times. The third time I brought him home to foster. I fostered him for a whole year, and we worked with a private behaviorist. Finally, after a year of work, he displayed some serious aggression that we knew meant that he could not be adopted out because he would seriously hurt someone (did I mention he was also 90 pounds of pure muscle?). So I made the responsible, but incredibly heartbreaking, decision to put him down. That was seven years ago, and my heart still hurts like it was yesterday–unless I hear “Rose Rouge”. And I just realized this because, again, my Synesthesia did not stand out to me as something that was different until I started paying attention to it and realizing the things, here and there, that were a symptom of it.
So, I gave “Rose Rouge” its own association before Vegas ever died. I made the association while he was still alive, and happy, and we didn’t yet know the road we were headed down. It was like my brain captured this wonderful snapshot in time where things with Vegas were good, and happy, and had no overshadowing of sadness and heartbreak. And now, I can always get that snapshot back when I listen to the song because that song does not remind me of Vegas. That song *is* Vegas.