SAYING GOODBYE

The summer is raging. So are the floods. As the northwestern United States are on fire, we in the northeast are washing away. Our sun has been red in the early evening from the far distant smoke to remind us, so I send my love and my most earnest hope westward too.

The summer is also somehow extra beautiful this year, if that's even possible. Queen Ann’s Lace is especially abundant. I’ve never seen it so. Their ethereal sprays of white are like a personal layer of clouds for the meadows of incoming goldenrod and Joe pye weed. It’s a dreamscape. The smell of the fields is so fragrant and sweet. Nature is cooking something truly delicious. The endangered monarchs flit about in their charming, jagged way looking to mate, or to lay eggs on some lucky milkweed plant. There is so much to love.

There is much to consider and feel as well. On Monday my sweet old terrier/whippet, Jerome is leaving us. Luckily my vet can come to our house to make his end familiar and peaceful. He is either 15 or 16 now, there’s no way to know for sure. He is blind and deaf at this point, but he is in no pain or discomfort, but he has finally said in his own way, “it’s time.” I have to respect that. It’s funny, I’ve had a lot of animals in my life and you always know. The “knowing” is always preceded by a time where you panic a little thinking “Oh my god! Am I missing something!? Have they already said and I’m missing some cues? What if I do it too soon???” It’s a lot. But every time they have come through and told me, “I’m ready.” It’s a beautiful communication. What an honor to be trusted with such a crucial and sacred task.

 That said, I think a lot about Laurie Anderson’s Heart of a Dog performance and film. Anderson is Buddist and feels it’s not her place to interfere with her dog’s final journey. It’s a very light and heavy concept at the same time. In the story Anderson keeps vigil with her dog, Lolabelle as she declines, and finally slips away. The performance I saw of the telling of the story was a gorgeous piece of art and feeling. Anderson is a favorite of mine. Everything about her soothes me. She makes me wonder if I am doing the wrong thing with Jerome. I am not a buddhist, but I respect buddhism and a great deal of its teachings. I respect Anderson and the choices she makes. I just cannot adhere to any religion. I am spiritual for sure, but nature is my focus. That’s me though, and I’m not saying my way is for everyone. 

If anything this makes me feel a little smaller and more organic. We prolong the lives of our pets way longer than they would be in the wild, which is fine, but that ultimately means we have already interfered with our pet’s final journey? There are just so many kinds of death. Good deaths and bad and everything in between. Since I have taken Jerome to the outer possibility of his lifespan, I owe him a good death. Like I said, I have had many animals, which means I’ve seen all kinds of death; good and awful. My dog Liza had the best death I ever witnessed. My vet had the great idea of her final breaths being taken in the back seat of my car; her favorite place. She had a beef knuckle to chew for a while and when it was time she didn’t even notice the needle. StuntManNate was there with us and we all put our hands on her and she smiled big, then laid her head on her paws like she was about to take a really enjoyable nap. It was sad, it was joyful, it was funny, moving and respectful. It was just “right.” That’s what I would like for every creature on earth and especially my Jerome. I don’t want him to bang around, have seizures peeing on himself, hurting himself or just be afraid and confused. I want him to know I’m there; as his pack leader keeping him safe. I think Laurie Anderson and I are perhaps both right, as long as we are with them. As long as the outcome is a meaningful, peaceful one. 

All my love to you and all your beloved creatures.

Jerome and Chet in tostada formation. (And my feet aren’t as big as this photo would have you believe.)