Sabbatical

Sabbatical
Sabbatical!!

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

A big loss for us, Percy (Mary Oliver), Lucky (Anna Kamienska)

I have just returned from a week in Massachusetts with my mother and my sister, and I am in mourning.  We lost our 11 year old Weimaraner, Greta, the day I went to pick up my sister and drive East.  For those of you who were not familiar with Ms. Greta, she was a most remarkable dog.  Even as a baby, she had a brush with illness that should have killed her, and then throughout her long and eventful life, she had at least 4 more significant episodes with illness, toxic exposure, or trauma that should have killed her, but only seemed to make her wobbly for a few days or weeks, and then there she was again.  We grew so used to her remarkable healing powers, that we all just assumed that she would always get better.

Thank goodness my son was here this summer.  He and the dog grew up together and shared a bed until Will went off to college last year.  Now a weimaraner grows into a big dog--short hair, velvet ears, with a coat the color of warm cocoa with flecks of silver, and bony!  The boy would grow to be quite large as well.  Every morning, I would find them with both heads on Will's pillow and two rapidly enlarging, bony bodies intertwined.  How they slept like that, i have no idea, nor do i understand why I never took a picture......

And the sound she made when she was happy is still banging around in my brain.  She howled her greeting every morning while lying upside down with her feet in the air awaiting the belly rub, and every time someone she loved came home.  The song was doubly long and emotional when that someone had been gone more than a day.  The sound made us laugh every time we heard it.  Why I never thought to record it, just once, I cannot imagine.  It was such a constant in our lives.

She was such a constant.  She was always there when our lives turned topsy-turvy with kids becoming teens and having the audacity to pull away and even leave, husbands falling out, illnesses, parents dying, etc, etc,etc.  She was a steady presence when life threw us off balance.  And when we had to deal with my cancer returning to make new trouble, there she was on the bed next to me. There she was when I had to do that chemo thing again and felt lousy, there she was when I struggled to be civil to my family as i felt more and more tired from more and more treatments, there she was, there she was, there she was.  I am afraid that I imbued her with meaning that could never really be true.--that if she could survive this insult, so could I, if she could endure treatment without complaining, maybe I could too, and I even let myself think that if she decided that she would not die, maybe i could manage that too....  I know, it was silly, but there it is. I believe that the lesson for me in all of this is to just be thankful for her, for all of her, for all the time i had with her.

But finally, finally she did not rebound from the large tumor in her belly that had been there quite awhile.  When the beautiful beast put her head in my lap and groaned, I knew, we all knew, something was different.  This time she was suffering.  Thankfully, Will was here to sleep with her that night and give her narcotics to ease her pain, and to finally recognize that she was not going to get better.  Then the beautiful, sobbing boy wrapped the lovely dog in a blanket and with my husband's help, carried her into the vet's office.  Our vets were magnificent, and they knew her well and reinforced the need to put her out of her suffering, and then she was gone. ( I have to say that we received a letter from the vet as well as from a specialist who had seen Greta once some months back.  Wouldn't it be magnificent if all of our healthcare was as caring and thoughtful as this veterinary care!)

How lucky we were to have known the love of this dog for so long.  And how many remarkable lessons have we all learned from this little blue-eyed puppy who became such a part of all of us.  I know I will grieve for my dear friend and constant companion for some time, but I also know that she would want us to get going and find another dog to help us heal and love again.  So dear Greta, we all hope you are somewhere where you can feel our love and how the breeze lifts your wonderful ears as you run and sing and eat again!

thank you for all of it

Percy (three)  (Mary Oliver) (note: Percy is Ms. Oliver's dog)


He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I'm awake, or awake enough

he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.

Tell me you love me, he says.

Tell me again.

Could there be a sweeter arrangement?
Over and over
he gets to ask it.
I get to tell.




Funny (Anna Kamienska)
What's it like to be a human
the bird asked
I myself don't know
it's being held prisoner by your skin
while reaching infinity
being a captive of your scrap of time
while touching eternity
being hopelessly uncertain
and helplessly hopeful
being a needle of frost
and a handful of heat
breathing in the air
and choking wordlessly
it's being on fire
with a nest made of ashes
eating bread
while filling up on hunger
it's dying without love
it's loving through death
That's funny said the bird
and flew effortlessly up into the air