Saturday Haiku: Creature Companions

 creature companions
keeping us in touch with life
and its simple joys

_______________________

Artwork by Elaine Kinnaird

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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.

 

Flashback: Living with Virtue

While I'm involved in another project, I am re-posting some of my favorite essays. This essay was originally posted on February 6, 2010 and in it I share a few lessons learned from my dog.

Living with Virtue: A Tribute to Mr. Higgins

“For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life.”

                                                              ~ William Blake

We named him Mr. Higgins, but we just called him Higgins. He was half English shepherd, half Border collie and half Belgian shepherd, which, if you add all that up you will see that he was a dog and a half. More than anyone else, he taught me to "be here now," although I do not think he originated that phrase.

Grand is the best single word to describe him. In his prime, he was 90 pounds, looking like a longhaired black and tan German shepherd. He had the confident and precise gait of a Tennessee walker as he patrolled the perimeter of our back yard anytime he suspected something unusual or amiss. He was something of a changeling. Higgins could become very small in the presence of a toddler at play as he delighted at getting down at the child's level. He could become extremely large whenever an unknown meter reader approached the house, with hair rising above his haunches, a booming voice, and a mouthful of teeth that looked as though they could engulf a Halloween pumpkin.

I heard Buddhist scholar, Robert Thurman, say that to be born a human being meant that one had been extremely virtuous in a former life. I like what that concept says about human existence: that humanity begins in virtue. I also like what it says about reverence for all of life. Mr. Higgins showed me by example the virtue of being. He was loyal, grateful, inquisitive, loving and defending. He enjoyed work, loved to play, and he was happy to be wherever he happened to be.

Guiding the Young

On one occasion, I saw Higgins do something I have never seen in a dog before or since. We had acquired a little terrier puppy for my daughter. Higgins, of course, was delighted with the company and took very seriously the task of showing the little tyke all the ways of life as a dog. One thing Higgins particularly enjoyed, aside from his squeaky toys, was a good bone to chew. We always had two or three of those beef bones from the pet store scattered about the yard. 

On this one particular day, Higgins was lying in the yard gnawing his bone while the little terrier was in his face yapping, making it known that she would love to chew on a bone. Instead of snarling or snapping, Higgins stopped his chewing, raised his head and looked about. He got up from his spot, walked over to another part of the yard and retrieved one of his other bones. He then took the bone back to his spot, dropped it in front of the puppy, and lay back down as they both proceeded to enjoy a bone chewing session together.

A Greater Awareness

We are influenced by whomever we live with, whether that one be human, canine, equine, feline, fish, fowl, or rodent. Mr. Higgins certainly affected my own existence for the better. Any life that we let into our circle of being expands our awareness and broadens our experience. Mr. Higgins helped me to live in the present moment. He taught me something about delight and devotion. He exemplified trust and companionship. He also taught me something about aging and dying.

By the time he was 12 years old, he was slowing down, but still exuberant. Cataracts dimmed his sight, and he also became hard of hearing. He had always been an inside/outside dog, but we began keeping him in more, letting him sleep in the kitchen every night, and always bringing him in during very hot or cold weather. During his last year, he struggled with arthritis and frequent incontinence. One day a friend, who was obviously not an animal person, asked me how long I was going to keep a dog that pooped in the house. My reply to her was that Higgins continued to be a valued companion. I told her that I intended to treat him with the same regard that I hoped someone would give to me when I am old and incontinent.

For 14 years, Mr. Higgins lived his dog nature with virtue. My life was made richer and more down-to-earth by his presence. If the Buddhists are right, I might meet him again in his human nature one day. If not, it was certainly enough that our life forms made contact and learned from one another for 14 years.

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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All Creatures Great and Small

We are a household of rescue pets. Our two dogs were rescued after being abandoned. We have four cats that were rescued from a local feral cat population in order to provide them with an inside home and a chance at domestic life. We also have a goldfish who is a “rescue” pet. That’s right. He was a feeder fish at the pet store, destined to provide nutrition for a predatory fish or a turtle. According to one pet store owner, a feeder fish is expected to live about two weeks. Our fish has made it ten years, so far.

Our first goldfish was one we acquired when our daughter was just a year and a half old. She named him “Pish” which was how she pronounced “fish” at the time. Pish was also a feeder fish that was a give-away at a children’s pet show put on at a neighborhood church by Ed’s Pet World. Pish made it to eight years of age, but that was before we learned that air bubbles and water filters can help make life better in a goldfish bowl.

We enjoyed Pish while he was with us, and then acquired our current goldfish, whom we just call “Fish” in the tradition of “Pish.” Contrary to what some may say about goldfish, Fish is quite interactive and aware. At night, when it is suppertime and he sees me come to the living room to sit on the sofa, he does a kind of dance at the top of the tank, wagging his tail and shaking his head to remind me that it is time to feed the fish!

Recently, my wife bought some brightly colored cut flowers and placed them in a vase by the fish tank. Fish immediately noticed, and seemed to be quite enthralled with the colorful addition to his immediate environment.   

Fish gave us a scare, or at least a heightened sense of concern, last week after I changed the water in his tank. As usual, I took him out of the small tank while I cleaned it and let him adjust in a plastic bag to the new water to be place in the tank. After the tank was ready and he was placed back in the tank, he was clearly stressed. He stayed at the bottom, keeping his fins close to his body – no interest in swimming about or eating.

My wife and daughter both said, “Fish is not happy.” I was worried. I kept asking myself if I added enough de-chlorinator to the water, and did I allow enough time for his body to adjust to any temperature changes in the fresh water? Then my daughter asked if I had any stress medicine I could give Fish. Great idea! It always helps when you can think of something to do other than worry. I checked our basket of fish supplies and found a bottle of “stress coat.” There was just enough left in the bottle to treat the tank.  We treated Fish’s tank and hoped for the best.

Happily, the next morning Fish was back to his normal self, swimming about, fins flowing, enjoying his home again. We were all greatly relieved. That little scare just served to remind us of how connected we all are, and how important all creatures are in this life, all creatures, great and small. 

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Other Posts about Creature Companions:

• The Speaker of the House
• A Boy and his Dog 
• For Those Who Travel this Life in the Company of Animals
• It Was Worse than Making Bears Use Charmin
• Reflections on a Short Life
• Living with Virtue: A Tribute to Mr. Higgins

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Reflections on a Short Life

Reflections on a Short Life (For Percy)

Some say our days are short

     and full of toil and woe,

Others take pleasure

     in the briefest journey.

One may find life to be

      a meaningless and never-ending tale

While another is enlivened

      by the joy of the story.

Everyone is given a lifetime

     to completely fill the days,

And a heart to meet

      each fateful hour.

Some hearts fill shortened days

      with vibrant hope and expectation

While others while away endless time

      with dark despair.

Neither brevity nor length

     puts value on our days.

But the heart that fills those days (whether short or long)

    will set them for good or ill.

Happy is the one whose days, though short,

Are generated by a heart of gratitude and peace.

                                                       ~ CK

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Percy

"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."                                                                                                                                                               ~ Suzanne Clothier

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For Those Who Travel this Life in the Company of Animals

Daisy
 2000? - Oct. 4, 2013

Last week we had to say good-bye to Daisy as we made that last trip to the veterinarian. Daisy found us and adopted us a little over 12 years ago, so she must have been 13 or 14 years old. Her most notable trait was that she thought every person she met was the greatest thing in the world, and she was exuberant in declaring that belief.

Her veterinarian was Dr. William Weber at Eastwood Animal Clinic. He was steadfast in his care for Daisy while she lived, and continued in his care at the end of her life. Before I left his office, he gave me a card. "Don't read this now, wait a couple of hours," he said, "but this is the best thing I've ever read about what we experience with our pets."

When I read the card, I agreed that it was the best thing I had ever read. The quote is by Suzanne Clothier from 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." 

                                               

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

*

Living with Virtue: A Tribute to Mr. Higgins

“For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life.”
-- William Blake

We named him Mr. Higgins, but we just called him Higgins. He was half English shepherd, half Border collie and half Belgian shepherd, which, if you add all that up you will see that he was a dog and a half. More than anyone else, he taught me to "be here now," although I do not think he originated that phrase.

Grand is the best single word to describe him. In his prime, he was 90 pounds, looking like a longhaired black and tan German shepherd. He had the confident and precise gait of a Tennessee walker as he patrolled the perimeter of our back yard anytime he suspected something unusual or amiss. He was something of a changeling. Higgins could become very small in the presence of a toddler at play as he delighted at getting down at the child's level. He could become extremely large whenever an unknown meter reader approached the house, with hair rising above his haunches, a booming voice, and a mouthful of teeth that looked as though they could engulf a Halloween pumpkin.

I heard Buddhist scholar, Robert Thurman, say that to be born a human being meant that one had been extremely virtuous in a former life. I like what that concept says about human existence: that humanity begins in virtue. I also like what it says about reverence for all of life. Mr. Higgins showed me by example the virtue of being. He was loyal, grateful, inquisitive, loving and defending. He enjoyed work, loved to play, and he was happy to be wherever he happened to be.

On one occasion, I saw Higgins do something I have never seen in a dog before or since. We had acquired a little terrier puppy for my daughter. Higgins, of course, was delighted with the company and took very seriously the task of showing the little tike all the ways of life as a dog. One thing Higgins particularly enjoyed, aside from his squeaky toys, was a good bone to chew. We always had two or three of those beef bones from the pet store scattered about the yard. On this one particular day, Higgins was lying in the yard gnawing his bone while the little terrier was in his face making it known that she would love to chew on a bone. Instead of snarling or snapping, Higgins stopped his chewing, raised his head and looked about. He got up from his spot, walked over to another part of the yard and retrieved one of his other bones. He then took the bone back to his spot, dropped it in front of the puppy, and lay back down as they both proceeded to enjoy a bone chewing session together.

We are influenced by whomever we live with, whether that one be human, canine, equine, feline, fish, fowl, or rodent. Mr. Higgins certainly affected my own existence for the better. Any life that we let into our circle of being expands our awareness and broadens our experience. Mr. Higgins helped me to live in the present moment. He taught me something about delight and devotion. He exemplified trust and companionship. He also taught me something about aging and dying.

By the time he was 12 years old, he was slowing down, but still exuberant. Cataracts dimmed his sight, and he also became hard of hearing. He had always been an inside/outside dog, but we began keeping him in more, letting him sleep in the kitchen every night, and always bringing him in during very hot or cold weather. During his last year, he struggled with arthritis and frequent incontinence. One day a friend, who was obviously not an animal person, asked me how long I was going to keep a dog that pooped in the house. My reply to her was that Higgins continued to be a valued companion. I told her that I intended to treat him with the same regard that I hoped someone would give to me when I am old and incontinent.

For 14 years, Mr. Higgins lived his dog nature with virtue. My life was made richer and more down-to-earth by his presence. If the Buddhists are right, I might meet him again in his human nature one day. If not, it was certainly enough that our life forms made contact and learned from one another for 14 years.



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