We recently lost our dog of 15
years named Miss Tybee. She had always been my little princess. From the very
beginning she had me twisted around her paws. I just knew she belonged in our
home. Within 24 hours, she knew she belonged, too.
She was about 17 years old when
we put her down due to severe pain in her back legs and hips – degenerating
spinal discs. She was also just about deaf and going blind from cataracts.
She was still my little 12-pound
princess. She always had been. I still miss here terribly. She would cuddle
against me at night and – boy-oh-boy – was she a little hot body!
Our other rescue dog, 15-pound Colonel
Duffy, was about 2, as well, when we got him. He’s now 8 or 9. He misses her
almost as much as I. Maybe more. I don’t know. I do know he shows it more than
I, since I’m more “sophisticated, mature, stoic, or responsible” than he. He is
just who he is. No apologies. No guilt. No shame. Just naturally being himself. I, on the other hand, am wrapped up somewhere
between who I am and who I think I ought to be. How I sometimes envy Duffy and
his acceptance of himself.
He’s coming around, though.
Perhaps, he’s adjusting to being the center of attention. Perhaps, he’s adjusting to being the “top
dog.” Again, I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyway. He’s just being
himself and I’m learning acceptance from him.
Several days ago a friend called
to say that a local business had picked up a small dog – believed to be a
poodle – that wandered up to their construction site and hung around all day.
The crew took the dog to all surrounding houses to see if anyone recognized the
dog. No one did. So they’ve been keeping it at their business. They’ve called
all the shelters, vets, related organizations, as well as radio stations and
other media outlets to see if anyone has reported it. Nothing.
We went to see it – him – and
he’s sweet, groomed, clean and well-dispositioned. He’s about 9-10 pounds. So,
maybe he’s a miniature or toy poodle. We’re keeping him over the weekend to
ensure he and Duffy get along.
In addition to the acceptance-training
I’m receiving from Duffy on how to grieve, I’m also learning from No Name
(although we’ve decided to call the new guy, since he’s a French Poodle,
Lieutenant Beauregard (Beau for short) – nice and “Frenchy,” don’t you think?) how
to adjust to new circumstances.
What a simple education! Beau is
constantly on the alert. Watching everyone’s every move, figuring out all this
newness as he goes along.
“What door do we go through for
a walk? For naps? For food?”
“What is that bowl for? Oh! Water. Good, I’ll remember that.”
“What’s that thing? Smells
interesting.”
“Grrrr!” Says Duffy.
“Oh! That’s his toy. Must leave
that alone – or wait until he’s out of sight.”
“What’s this around my neck? Why
does Boss Man pull on it? I see. He wants me to come this way. Ouch! I’ll do
better next time. Ouch! Okay, once more.”
I’m noticing all this and saying
to myself: “Look at Beau – No anger. No frustration. No whining. No comparisons
with previous ‘Boss Men.’ No shoulds. No oughts.”
Just is-ness.
I am beginning to realize this
is the way my life can be if I simply understand, “This is what is.” It’s not
good, bad, stupid, irresponsible, idiotic, thoughtless, short-sighted, or
self-absorbed. It simply is just what it is. Period. Adjust, Don, and continue
onward.
Beau, after 18 hours, now goes
to the appropriate garage side door when I get the leash. He goes and gets a
drink when he’s thirsty. He looks at “his” bowl – not Duffy’s – when he’s
starting to get hungry. He goes to the correct door, gets in bed, and lies
close to my wife when he’s tired.
This may not be a fantastic
spiritual message for you today, but, in addition to sharing a message, I am
trying to simply share myself with you. This is where I am today and what is
going on inside me.
Even though it was wonderful,
it’s good to be back home from our vacation in New England.
As always, thanks for listening
and feel free to share this message with your friends, family and those with
whom you are walking your spiritual path.
Don
#1 June, 2012
Don,
ReplyDeleteMy husband and I both enjoyed reading this spiritual message. We extend our sympathy to you, your wife and to Duffy.
We too, are dog lovers and could so identify with your words and can still feel the loss of our poodles, Shadow and Dream and our Bichon, LeStat. All of which were also rescue dogs. They taught us many lessons over the years and we carry them in our hearts and will forever love and miss them.
Thank you for sharing and we wish you and yours blessings. I hope little Beau has found himself a home.