Determinata

Hello, Bunny.

Today I've been having trouble not crying. Well, it's ok. I wouldn't be normal if I wasn't crying a lot still. You've left this enormous space, but the truth is, you filled so much of what was empty in me and healed so much of what was broken, that you really are almost as much presence as absence. Or as John O puts it, the sore well of absence has become a tender presence. you are here as well as not here. I ache for you. I miss you. And so it will be.

I found a little booklet I had made waaay back, at The Swamp, with some funny phrases and pictures of you, little stories and so on. Oh, the passing of time. Where did those days go, Bo? I hadn't recalled the Yabba Dabba song for ages. It started me crying, but not with any regret, just that I miss you, and your funny little Boo Radley ways. (One day I will explain this idiotic nickname and how it came to be your most enduring. But not today).

A habit of mine was to nickname you all these silly things by just putting an "a" on the end of whatever quality I felt you were exhibiting; hence, "eleganza" and "delicata" and the ever popular "determinata". My, my, but you could be a determined little being. I loved that about you and how I relate: we both might appear to be a little wifty but the backbone is stainless steel. You could get away with so much by being so sweet (and that may have been true of me, once upon a time, thought these days I've abandoned the tactic).

The pics here illustrate you at your determined best; while Jasmine and Luke headed contentedly back to the hosue after a walk, you, madame, had to bolt off into the woods for one last frenzied check-in. Even in snow several times too high for you, you'd pin those ears flat to the head and off you'd go. I love this picture because it really shows a part of you I cherish: determinata. Were you sweet, kind, and funny? Yes of course. Were you pliable, co-operative, and gentle? Without a doubt. But there was a core of some strange ferocity in there I admired, related to, and loved. Dammit all, I NEED to go off the trail this one last time.

Off you go, you little minx. Don't be too long. I'll be waiting.

Oneness

Forever Oneness,

who sings to us in silence,

who teaches us through each other.

Guide my steps with strength and wisdom.

May I see the lessons as I walk,

honor the Purpose of all things.

Help me touch with respect,

always speak from behind my eyes.

Let me observe, not judge.

May I cause no harm,

and leave music and beauty after my visit.

When I return to forever

May the circle be closed

and the spiral be broader.

-- Bee Lake

And one more

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xZlhaLT7IY&feature=related

Hear my silent prayer
Heed my quiet call
When the dark and blue surround you
Step into my sigh
Look inside the lght
You will know that I have found you.

The Promise

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqxbZq7d86Q&feature=related

Darling Lila, I promise
Nothing we did will be lost or forgotten
I will carry this pain proudly,and with strength
For it is the deal we make with God -
"the joy then, the pain now"
And in time
I will feel
the joy overcome the sore well of grief
that today, is my heart.

I will be well
I will remember
I will carry on
I will laugh and be silly
I will make huge piles of dog food
Sleep in the afternoon
Exercise twice a day
Cherish my pack
Keep your toys safe
Lie on the floor regularly
Howl at the Moon

and above all
I will find you.

I promise.

Under the Silver Maple

How still and wide the presence of you is. Still like the air just before sunrise, quiet with presence not yet revealed, and wide like the sky in Nova Scotia, the stars I had never seen back in this part of the country, the breathtaking glory of night by the ocean.

How quiet the house, and long the day with a small smiling angel removed from it.

I've been keeping myself so busy and distracted, Bo. Just to hold the emptiness at bay. It's always like this; my friends are here, Danny needs to be cared for, and then there's the cats. Yes, Ogden is sort of moving into the spot Howard left...you remmeber how Howie used to sit on that part of the railing, near the kitchen, overseeing everything that went on? That's where Ogden sits now, he's the new Sentinel. Jay's been bringing him in to the livingroom to lie on me at night, it's so strange to have 11 cats and none of them feel they can enter the livingroom. But Danny has settled down now,he doesn't harass them so much - and I often have Ogden, Amidala, Rupa and Rasa in at the same time. Ogden is really bonded to me now. I'm afraid for him, since I love him, and idiotically I feel everything I love is in danger. If that were true, how did you and I manage 13 years?


I keep myself busy, watching movies, working a little, and now, with dad. But more on that later. This blog is for you and me.

No news on the deck; I struggle with anger as I try to help people's dogs and I cannot do this for Danny. But I know it will come, and if it doesn't, we will move next year. Simple as that. I do all I can to shield Danny, but the wood is arsenic laden and splintered and worn with age. I feel I must deserve at least this much, that I can keep Danny safe? But it's been a circus around here about the deck. Everyone's gonna do it, nobody does. And right now I'm just too down- hearted and tired to get out there spreading the word about natural nutrition (and thus - hopefully - making a living as I do). I need the downtime, and so the deck just sits there. Still no van, either. So it's the same old struggle, to be grateful for all I have while not exploding over the injustices I can do nothing about. I have a long way to go on that one, still.

But...the things we can do. Yes, that's more positive. I took Dan this morning to the long trail down to the lake - I'm a wee bit nervous with him offleash when the foliage is dense, but he stays close. He seems a bit better now. He misses you so much, Bo. He was just the soul of dejection for the first while. We all think he's doing better, and he is. But I lie beside him at night and feel his breathing, listen to his heart as I used to do with you. And I feel the hurt. He's growing now into more of a young man, as pain will always accelerate the process. But he's never going to be the same, Bo. None of us are. Me most of all. You have left me so much a better person than you found me, and also so indescribably sad.

I'm going, now, out to that spot I always sit on, the green wicker chair, you know the place you disliked because it wasn't shady. I still have those pics of you in the lilies, when with your usual understated sense of humour you had crawled into them to escape the sun, but still be close to me. Luke and Dan will just loll in the sun, RRs are like that. Luke would loll till he was panting with heat then demand to go inside (NOW). Dan sits watching the back field with that bright, alert little mouse-face of his, and then collapses for a few minutes, rests, pops back up again - looking, looking..(Cats! Groundhogs! OMG Mom - DEER!!) dan doesn't loll as much as coils up and lowers the drive for a few seconds, then explodes back into full throttle enthusiasm and energy.

But it bothered me you had to go across the yard to the lilies. I couldn't move my seat to the spot under the aspen you seemd to prefer, it's not a good spot for me - no view, too close to the bird feeders, no sun at all. And I felt like those were my choices, you know - sit in my green wicker chair, where I could read and view the fields - or move myself under the aspen close to you, but unhappy with the sahde and seclusion. I guess I've long felt like I was trying to balance things that just can't be done. So, although Younger Me loathes the very word, I had to compromise. As I've grown older I more or less have Younger Me in check, and I understand that compromise is not always great, but very often necessary. But I was sorry to sit with Danny and have you all the way over there, distanced from the pack. I worried that you felt the distance as significant, dogs are so visual and sensitive to things like that. I always worried you felt pushed aside by one large dynamic RR male or another. You were so accommodating, while our boys, errr...are not. :)

Then the other day I noticed the silver maple as if I'd only just then discovered it's presence.

And I understood something - THAt was were we were *supposed* to sit...dammit! that was the spot outside the box, the resolution to all this consternation about which tree and how close and so on. And it struck me through the heart, because not only did YOU not really find your spot, so too did I not see what - now - is so patently obvious. I was struggling to balance these two apparent choices, and the right answer was neither one. The silver maple was "our spot". And for several minutes I just couldn't believe I'd been so dumb, as to let you down, and my heart twisted with the pain of thinking you'd never sit there with me..smiling, panting, feeling close to me, this person you loved so much (and I still wonder why).

but then, as you might predict, a wave of peace washed over me. Peace - and triumph, Bo! because I knew that the spot under the silver maple was still mine to sit in... that you were really pretty cool, literally and figuratively, under your lily patch. That I was the one looking all night for my spot and not seeing it till I fell asleep and dreamed. But now I have it, and that's where Dan and I will sit - and Iona, when she comes. We will sit there and I'll write and calculate and read and..best of all...just BE. we found a new special place and even though it will mean moving that damn ugly fence a little, it'll be worth it. Because, you'll be so with us, so present and so at peace. In my heart you will be there and, I am sure, outside in the air, the light, the holy soundless morning, the first rays of sun through the forest, the rustle of the aspen from away across the yard.

Delicate, beautful, and strong like you, the silver maple will shelter us, and we will all be cool and covered, and I will enjoy the view.

Such a small thing, this, and so brimming with poignance and meaning...you, and the silver maple.

We Will Fight No More

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hy3khpOPcDY

Hello, Lamb, I love you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlyQbS347mE


And so here we are, Bo, on a sunny June day, talking to one another from across the unseen chasm. I was just sitting outside with Dan, listening to the aspen tremble, and feeling such a powerful presence of God all around us. I have been speaking with you so much lately, sending you my love, my prayers, my gratitude. And this morning I just felt like talking some more. I know how sad you are not to be with me on my fiftieth birthday, and you know how heartbroken I am. So I guess you've sent some special things to comfort me, and I knew them as soon as I saw them. I wanted to thank you, because I don't think I thanked you enough when you were here in body. Why do humans pay more attention to beings that have died? Calling that our "nature" isn't good enough for me. I think it's something we have to work on. So, I'm thanking you today and holding your love extra close, so you know I'm ok, and that I got all the messages - the lovely understated whimsical messages, such as they would be.

First, last night, the star- shaped light your candle cast on the wall behind your shrine. You know I am doing a Pagan sort of Kaddish for you, and that means nightly I light a white beeswax candle and send you my prayers before I sleep. You'd have loved that in real life, because it's a beautiful shrine, and you always seemed to love beautiful things as much as I do, although maybe you *just* loved how much I enjoyed them. At any rate, I looked behind the candle and there was this perfect star on the wall and I knew it was you, in all your stellar glory. I could hardly speak with the rush of love inside me. Ok, Bo, you're here again where you left off. I knew it. Luke came to me, repeatedly and now you. Tears of laughter, love, and pain. Dan and I slept better than in weeks.

Then this morning; the rosy pink Iris has blossomed. Ah, Iris - Messenger of the Gods - and one of my favourite garden flowers. I just stood there in the (finally cooler) morning air, latte in hand, Ogden winding around my leg, and thought "Hi, Bo. How thoughtful of you to send me a flower message on my birthday."

Because you know anything beautiful, magical, unexpected and sweet will be you, whenever I see it.

So then yesterday afternoon, my two cedar waxwings, up in the back tree, sitting overhead looking at me. Just one year ago I had rescued one and on the morning of my bday, released him at dawn, he flew away so easily. I thought back then, what a lovely way to start this year. So then when I saw them yeserday, I wondered if you might have prompted them to swoop in on me like that and say hello.

Anything I see that's innocent, sweet and magical...

You know my heart is beyond broken to have you gone. It seems to me, as I was saying to Aunti Donna today, that you and I were all about facing battles together and winning; from my illness, to your puppy issues, then we did TTouch together, and then we faced down your double ACL ruptures, your spondylosis, heart disease, my brother's death, various moves and hard times, losing Luke, your cancer last fall - I mean we are a pair of TOUGH OLD BIRDS, as Dr. Eddie would call us (well, you he'd call that, he's far too discreet to call ME a tough old anything). But we are, aren't we? And both sort of...girly, humourous, and easily understimated. The bottom line is, whatever happened, we faced it together, and we won through. So this time the fact we didn't, well it's so weird for me. Added to the heartache of you not being here, is this strange and disorienting sense of failure. I wake up at 4 am and think - damn, why didn't we do chemo? Or...what if we had never moved to the house in Rupert, would you never have developed cancer?

And the scientist in me just smiles, while the spirit will not be assuaged. Sure, I *know* Eddie would have given me options if he felt there were any. Sure, I know another anastheisa would have been likely to kill you faster than the cancer. I know, I know - but then, I get to thinking with my heart, the heart that echoes our experience together...the one that says, Lila and I do not lose. not ever. She's my girl, we're Xena and Gabrielle, nobody separates us.

Well you know, eventually all must die, even brave little Bunny-dogs who fell from the Pleiades and seemd to survive just about everything. . And I'm not sure it matters if we had been able to grab another few months - the thing is that we DID prevail, Bunny - we DID "win out" in the end, because look at what we got! We got almost 14 years for you, despite dire early prognoses, and all kinds of strife and hassle...Aunti Diana loaning us the funds for last fall was some sort fo miracle. Look at how far you brought me, too - from relative novice in the nutrition field to where I ma now - my diploma, endorsed by Dr. B and other prominent vets - my site, my book - that's all YOU Bo! and with one session left in TTouch - that's you too, sweetheart. you brought me back to my centre, to the place in me that wants to work in a healing capacity with animals, and because of you, I am doing this work. But even more importantly, because of YOU, I am so much closer to becoming the human being I can be and want to be - the Possible Human. I look back to where I was spiritually , 13 years ago, and I hardly recognize myself. and that's you too, Boona - your love, sweetness, devotion, and above all, unwavering love for me. You healed me more than anyone or anything ever has, from the deep and abiding wounds of the past, from my own feras and frailties,and you showed me what an unspeakable, unshakable force love can really be, vast and oceanic in its depths and capacity.

And so I don't really think we lost this one, I don't really believe because you have died that we are separated forever. I miss your warm solid little body beside me at night to the point of anguish. I miss your funny little smile and the way you pounced on your toys like a puppy right to the end of your days. I miss that open hearted direct gaze of yours, the way you studied my face, and as soon as I broke down and smiled, you'd smile too. Oh GOD, but I cannot itemize all that I miss or I will never stop writing. BUt you know, I have you here still so powerfully. In my work, in my healing journey, in the very fact I even have Daniel (cuz I'd never have been able to manage a Ridgeback in the first place without your stabilizing influence), in every wonder I perceive, in the calibre of person I am and strive to yet become.

That's all you, Bunny. So here on my fiftieth birthday, with so much life behnd me and so much more yet to live, I embrace you with all my being. I rub your tummy and you roll over and rub your nose in gratitude. You loved it all so much, didn't you sweetie - and you so much loved me, for whatever reason that was. I love you too and always will. Let's do it all again soon.
I strive to be healed and whole, in honour of you, and in the spirit of tomorrow.

Mommy loves Lila, so SO much love Lila.