A Sad Farewell

Drawing by Elaine Kinnaird

A light in our household has gone out. Last week we had to say goodbye to our Buddy who brightened our lives for 11 years. He developed a cough which we came to discover was due to cancer that had metastasized to the lungs.

Buddy never met a stranger. He thought everyone was top shelf. During his life, companionship was his mission. Whenever one of us was ill, he stayed with us until we were better, This time it was our turn to sit with Buddy during his last two weeks until it was time to make that final trip to the vet. We miss him and will remember the joy and enthusiasm he brought to life and to everyone around.

Concerning the lives we share with our pets, no one said it better than Suzanne Clothier in her book, Bones Would Rain from the Sky: Deepening Our Relationships with Dogs:

"There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other.

To those who have never lived through its turnings and walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible.

Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given." 

                                               

We buy food and medicines for our dogs and cats from Chewy Pet Supplies online. When the people at Chewy's learned of Buddy's demise, they sent flowers.

 

Saturday Haiku: Watchful Morning

 

some will watch
some will watch and wait
some will run

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird

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Friday Funnies: TED Talk

Namaste: To Truly See Another

I do not know where the photo above originated. A friend shared it on Facebook, but the site identified neither the photographer nor the subject of the photograph*. The picture is heartwarming and engaging, as I think anyone would agree. When I saw it, my first impression was that this is a true greeting toward a sentient being. The boy is taking delight in meeting another creature, bowing in honor of the life made manifest in the dog. Likewise, the dog seems to be returning the honor. The picture speaks to me of namaste: “the divine in me recognizes the divine in you.”

A Dog's Blessing

The day after I saw this photo, Mr. Higgins came to me in a dream. He looked me in the eye as I reached down to scratch the back of his ear. Mr. Higgins was a shepherd-border collie mix who graced my life almost thirty years ago. He and I spent our first day together getting to know one another when he was a pup. We actually picked one another out when I went to choose from the litter of pups. His choosing me was as important as my choosing him. We spent our last day together 14 years later, taking one last walk after I carried him down the steps (he could no longer get up on his own or maneuver steps, but could walk once he was aided to a standing position).

Walking at my side on a lead had always been the proudest of moments for Higgins when we walked through the neighborhood or down to Flora Johnston Park on Shades Creek. On that final day, we took one more walk around the backyard, and though it was a short walk, he held his head up and mustered that same pride while we made our way around the yard. I could see that he was thrilled to be on a walk! We also spent time together in the living room. I sat down on the floor beside him where we could be present to one another for a while before making that ride to the veterinarian's office.

I wrote an essay, Living with Virtue, recounting some of my life with Mr. Higgins. My wife told me, and has told others the same thing, that when she saw how I raised Higgins, she was reassured that I could do a good job as father to a child and that it would be okay to get pregnant. So in a way, Mr. Higgins was instrumental in bringing our greatest joy into the world, assuring us that we could be parents. Little wonder that I would have an ever so brief dream about him all these years later.

Respect for All of Life

When I see the boy and the dog in the photo, I am reminded of the respect that we should accord our fellow sentient creatures. I am reminded of the blessing that our creature companions can bring us. I am also reminded of our duty to offer love and care to the world around us and the creatures therein.  

Today, I offer the example of this young boy – whoever he is, wherever he lives – as a beacon to us all to greet one another with honor and love, and to offer that same grateful greeting to our creature companions.

And thanks again, Mr. Higgins, for a life well-lived and for all the times well-spent. Namaste.

Mr. Higgins: 1987 - 2001

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* The photo at the top was identified simply as “Weird world’s photo” on Facebook.

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The Dog and the Dalai Lama

Recently, I came across the documentary, Sunrise/Sunset, by Russian filmmaker, Vitali Manski. It is an interesting look at a day in the life of His Holiness the Dalia Lama. I caught is on Netflix, but it is also available for free viewing at Culture Unplugged.com. I found it to be interesting, as I do anything about the Dalai Lama. Near the end of the film, however, I was intrigued by the "cameo appearance" of a dog who wandered by. I did a screen shot to catch that moment when you can still see the dog at the bottom left as the Dalai Lama is coming down the stairs. I was delighted to see that there was a dog at the Dalai Lama's house. I tried to imagine the interaction between His Holiness and his dog, and came up with the following poem.

The Dog and the Dalai Lama

It was early in the morning

Before light broke across the sky.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Made his way down the stairs.

After morning meditation

He descends

Into the mundane world

Of conflict, struggle,

Searching, gaining, and grasping.

A dog wags his tail

Crossing His Holiness’s path.

Perhaps the monk smiles

At his canine friend.

Perhaps his heart is made glad

When the dog welcomes him

To the day.

“Hello, my friend!” he might say.

“Dog nature welcome Dalai Lama nature,”

I imagine him chuckling.

“We come together to find Buddha nature –

For five minutes we show the world peace,

You and I –

Then have breakfast.” 

                                                              ~ CK

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The Speaker of the House

Daisy

I was awakened this morning on my day off by the Speaker of the House.  We have four dogs. If one or more of them needs to go outside to take care of essential business, or if they decide that we’re late getting breakfast or supper, they will let us know with a bark. The thing is, it is always just one dog. They never all bark at once – except when there is an unexpected visitor coming into the house, or suspicious activity outside the house. Somehow they work it out among themselves as to who will be the one to communicate to the People of the House that they have important business to take care of. My wife has dubbed the one who barks as the Speaker of the House.

This morning the Speaker of the House was Daisy, our yellow lab. Sometimes it will be Mike, our little “Heinz 57” rescue. Mike is bright and full of energy, always ready to run and play. Other times it may be Martha, our little terrier mix whom we acquired from the pound as a pup for our daughter some 14 years ago. If you read my essay, “Living with Virtue: A Tribute to Mr. Higgins,” Martha was the little tyke that was welcomed and nurtured by the extraordinary Mr. Higgins.

Mike

Martha

Felix

Very rarely, Felix will be the Speaker of the House. Felix is another rescue dog, a Chihuahua mix. Felix didn’t really know much about being a dog until he joined our pack. My wife saw him wandering about the parking lot at the local gymn one rainy evening. When she spoke to him, he hopped right into her car. We never found his owner and later decided he must have been dumped. Felix came to us thinking that all there was to do in life was to eat and sit in someone’s lap. Thanks to our other dogs, especially Mike, he has learned to run and toss and tumble.  Since he and Mike are both boys, roughly the same size and about the same age, they have become great buddies.  On one of those rare occasions when Felix was the Speaker, it was 5:00 a.m. I had to be at work at the hospital, and normally would have been up by 4:45, but I had forgotten to set the alarm. That morning I was grateful that Felix had spoken when he did.

Getting back to the Speaker of the House phenomenon, I’m not sure exactly when that started or how our dogs decide who speaks, but it seems to be a rotating designation.  Years ago, when Daisy and Martha were our only dogs, Daisy would never bark inside. I don’t know why. She would bark outside, often too much, but would never make a sound inside. She knew that barking was the way to get our attention, so when she needed to go out, she would walk over to Martha, get her attention by ducking her head and giving her a certain look, at which point Martha would jump up and bark to let us know that dogs needed to go out. After we went from two dogs to a pack of four, Daisy at some point realized that she could bark in the house when necessary. Perhaps someone on the Animal Planet or some other source of information on animal pack behavior can explain how or why they do it, but I often marvel at the arrangements our animals seem to make among themselves.

Daisy & Martha: They always make the Buddha laugh

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You may be interested in reading:

Living with Virtue: A Tribute to Mr. Higgins

A Boy and his Dog

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A Boy and His Dog

“I love my dog. I love all my dogs. Every dog I ever had, I still love ‘em. And in my life, believe me, I have had me a bunch of damn dogs. Because you keep getting’ a new one, don’t ya? It’s true. As life goes on, you keep getting’ one new dog after another. That’s the whole secret of life. Life is a series of dogs.”

                                                                           ~ George Carlin


Maybe I should have titled this, "A Dog and Her Boy." For most of my life there has been a dog in my life. Right now there are four. There is Martha, my daughter’s dog whom we adopted from the pound when my daughter was six years old. Martha is a cute wire-hair terrier mix whom we soon discovered was hearing impaired. Daisy is a yellow lab mix who showed up at our doorstep 11 years ago. We could never find her owner, so she stayed. Then there is Mike, a cute little black and tan “Heinz 57” variety, whom my wife rescued about five years ago, and Felix, a little Chihuahua/rat terrier mix who was wandering the streets before hopping into my wife’s car one day. We could never find her owner either, so… we now have a pack.

A Litany of Dogs

Growing up, we always had a family dog. As a toddler, I pleaded with my parents to let me keep a little black and white hound puppy that had been dropped off at the city dump. Back in those days, everyone in our small town had to carry their own garbage to the dump. One Saturday, while accompanying my Dad on his weekly garbage run, we found the pup sitting quietly near a refuse heap. My Dad dubbed her, “Pooch.” My mother admitted that she was the cutest little pup she had ever seen. Then there was Brownie. After that was Smokey, a quiet noble shepherd mix who died too young of distemper. Later there was Trixie, an almost pure bred collie who was companion, playmate, and protector for me and my siblings for a good part of my childhood. She is the one you see pictured here with me as a lad. (More about Trixie in a moment) When I was in high school, there was Prince, son of Trixie. Then there was Chanet, part french bulldog, part boxer (she also died too young). Later came Missy, a collie mix rescued by my little brother. Missy went jogging with him every day until he joined the Marines then she welcomed him home on every furlough. There was even dog folklore in our house. My older brother and my parents told stories of Snooks, who was before my time but who accompanied my brother from infancy to school age.

When my wife and I met 27 years ago, Pete and Dolly were her canine companions. Pete was a shepherd mix who had been my wife's pet for many years, through thick and thin. She had to be put down the day before our daughter was born. Dolly was a chow/wolf mix who hated strangers, but was a jolly dancer at home with us. She reminded me of an Ewok from Star Wars.

Some Stand Out

All of our dogs have brought rich rewards into our lives, and some stand out more than others (you may have read my tribute to the remarkable Mr. Higgins, who departed this life about ten years ago). When I was a child, Trixie was the one who stood out above all the others. We lived out in the country at that time. Trixie had the run of the yard, the woods, and the neighbor’s pasture. She was very bright and she knew how to play and interact with us kids. She was as much a family member as a dog can get. We played in the yard and ran with her through the woods on many a futile rabbit or squirrel chase. That dog accompanied us on all of our usual haunts: hiking in the woods, walking down to the road to the fish pond near the old train depot, or going up the road to the country store. Once or twice, she followed us to school, which was against the rule, as the nursery rhyme says.

One summer morning, my younger brother and sister and I decided to go down through the woods to the creek bank to play, as we often did. Trixie trotted along with us as usual. She took the lead as we jaunted merrily along the path through the woods. Suddenly Trixie stopped right in the path. We couldn’t understand what had come over her, but we were anxious to get to the creek. When we tried to pass her, she turned sideways in the path and gave a low growl. She would not let us pass. This was bizarre behavior, we thought, until we looked ahead. Right there stretched along the path in the woods lay a huge snake - a water moccasin! YIKES! We all turned on our heels and fled back up the hill, out of the woods, and safely to our back door step. Of course there were rounds of cheers and hugs for Trixie, our faithful guardian. And of course, we had to go and tell our parents all about our harrowing adventure.

Trixie was not my dog, per se. She was the family dog, and she gave her attention to all of us. I was always proud of Trixie. I found joy and comfort by having her around whenever I went outside. What is remarkable to me, as I look back on these old photos, is that I have always been camera shy - I do not like having my picture taken. I well remember, however, the day these shots were taken. I had a box camera that my uncle had given me for Christmas one year. I remember asking my brother to take a picture of me with Trixie. Looking back, I find it amazing that I would have requested to have my own picture taken. It must say something about the importance I placed upon the remarkable dog who was part of my childhood. Here's to all the dogs who have enriched the lives of people everywhere! If you have a dog story, feel free to leave a comment.

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