Grrrrrrieving

Elisabeth Kubler Ross wrote about DEATH AND DYING and her book included the steps associated with grieving. That was 1969. I read it in college during a psychology course or maybe sociology.

I'm entering step 2 today. ANGER: anger over Frieda having to die, more anger at the people who mistreated her so badly she feared her own shadow, even guilty anger at myself for not being able to fix it.

Expect me to write about it on this blog. Look at the title if you doubt for a moment that I wouldn't open up and try to rip those unknown individuals (I hesitate to call them humans)"a new one".

We had six dogs. Some people would say that's too many. But there are two of us and we are retired and we love dogs. All the dogs were adopted/rescued - call it what you will, they all have pasts, usually sad, some bad. Frieda's was both.

You might not think going from six to five would mean much. But it does. Each of them is bonded to the others and to us in lots of ways. One of our dogs had been tied to a tree in the country, her dead puppies and 17 other adult dogs nearby. The property owner lived an hour and a half away and drove by once or twice a week to toss out food. If the chain went far enough to get some of it then a dog was lucky. That's Sally's story. Needless to say she has issues.

We started out fostering Sally. She was adopted by friends but ran away, in the country, and that led to 9 days of searching for her, thru mucky fields. It was Frieda Joy who truly brought her back to safety, walking with me thru mud on that ninth day, making a "scent path" back to the live trap set for her. The next morning there was Sally, waiting. We brought her home. She and Frieda found solace in the life they shared here. Sally sits in Frieda's spots and went to Frieda's feeding spot when Frieda wasn't there Monday night.

I'm angry that Sally had already had much taken from her and now she has lost her best friend. Don't we all know how that feels?

For Sally and the others Frieda Joy was the alpha dog. Just her presence made it clear, even when she was frightened. She was first to the door with a greeting, first to a lap when thunder and lightning started, first to leap into the car when a field trip was in order. She got treats and then everyone else got them. We tried not to over-pamper her, tough as it was, because all the books say it's not good for them. But we spoiled her and protected her.

We just couldn't keep her from the demons she brought with her, the past sewn into her soul, carved on her heart. She covered them bravely with all the love she could muster up but sometimes those bad guys eeked out.

We helped her through those times but this time they beat us. But they didn't get the best of her. That's ours, all ours.

Precious Dog Hein, June 1993 - December 2008

We know God watches over us but this week we underwent yet another loss, that of Precious Dog Hein. Yes, she was 15 1/2 years old and we knew full and well she felt the loss of Scout a couple months back. They were inseparable from the time they met, day and night, together either in their pen or in the house. They were like an old couple, only dogs. One saw. One heard. They yammered at each other if one was too close to the others bowl. They leaned against each other. They snuggled together all day long in their dog-loo, ignoring the birds, cats, people traffic and younger dogs coming and going in the other fenced in area.

She awoke on the 17th and told us it was time. If you have had a pet you've had to help you know what how they communicate it through their looks. Her head stayed down, her eyes solemnly surrendered. She had no energy, no substantiation to continue.

I like to believe that she gave us these additional two months in our post-Scout world, because she knew us well. It would have been her wish to go with Scout and she was as surprised as we to find she was here and Scout was gone. But she pulled herself together and joined the younger dogs in a frenzy of remembered behaviors that found her going up and down the two stairs on the patio, running a step or two, getting excited when she didn't know what the excitement was all about, and finally just signaling everyone to go ahead without her, she was sleeping this one out.

We did what we could to keep her comfy. No baths, good food, a special place in the kitchen, all fluffed out and right in the midst of foot traffic so she got lots of petting and hugs and acknowledgment. She got kisses from everyone, 2 or 4-legged, who went past her as she rested.

The morning each dog came by and said goodbye to her. I wish they'd been able to do that with Scout, who went in the night, quietly without prelude. But perhaps they were sending their greetings on with Precious. Don't tell me they don't know; they know only too well. They probably know better than we for their lives are less complicated. I suspect their relationship with God is the same - they know, they don't question. They understand death leads to new freedom, new life.

So now, only a couple of days later we have welcomed Lazlo into our home. He's our latest foster. A collar was embedded in his neck but it's been removed and he's healed from that injury entirely. He is quirky and cute and, for now, all boy. That has everyone trying to figure out what's next! But they know he's here to get ready for his own forever earthly home. And, they know when he leaves it will be different from when Precious left.

Scout O'Rama Hein, 1993-2008

It began as an ordinary Saturday, fall, 1995, for DINKs like us - errands and chores. But then it wasn't. We walked into a local store and looked around. Not for anything special, but then, there she was,special. Sitting huddled and frightened. That day we said hello.

We asked about her. This was her last day before being put down at the dog pound. She was only two.

It was early and we had places to go. We said we'd come back at the end of the day and if she wasn't adopted we'd take her. Don't put her aside. Let others look at her.

People of our word, we went back. She was waiting for us. Home we went. And, with the exception of vet visits and a few, out-of-yard running episodes, including the infamous one two years ago that put Ed in a near-death hospital situation, home is where she stayed. Our vet and family cared for her. Our pet sitter fancied her. We loved her and learned about her.

Turns out she wasn't so frightened. She was an investigator and a commentator. Her feet came off the ground when she barked. She was unbending, just plain awkward, when she ran - more like a rocking horse than a Beagle. She was always a happy clown. She made everyone play and smile. She snored freely, as if it was the greatest pleasure that came with laying down. In recent years she was Precious' eyes and encouragement, a role someone else will take up undoubtedly.

It began as an ordinary Saturday, fall, 2008, for retired folks like us - up early for coffee and chores. But then it wasn;t. Today we said goodbye.

Scout is at peace. God has her in His lap.


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Today, I am told, is the feast day of St. Francis, the saint who acknowledged kinship with all creation, particularly animals and nature. Around the world there are "Blessings of Animals" ceremonies. Here is John Galsworthy's prayer for gentleness to all creatures:

To all the humble beasts there be,
To all the birds on land and sea,
Great Spirit! sweet protection give,
That free and happy they may live!

And to our hearts the rapture bring
Of love for every living thing;
Make of us all one kin, and bless
Our ways with Christ's own gentleness.

Angels Among Us

My mom is in a nursing home.
What a way to reach the end. I have said that.
We visited today. Mornings are best.
We were wheeling her from therapy to her room, for a visit, when we passed a small gathering room with 3 residents and 3 visitors in it. One person had a guitar and was singing. We chose to go there instead.
It was nothing less than a miraculous experience. The guitar player had an easy-listening folksy voice. She knew the 3 residents well. Clearly they were a long and well-established group. One of the other "outsiders" was with her and one with a resident.
We were welcomed without question.
We stayed an hour and hated to leave.
Jan, the musician, showed us not only that she has the makings of an angel in her voice, but also in her life.
One man, whose age is undetermined, had brain damage, probably from birth. He spoke well enough that she understood him. They joked a lot.
Another man, between 35-40, is now paralyzed from the chin down, doing all movements of his chair with his chin. She acknowledged his intellectual level honorably.
The third, Bubba, was also of an unknown age. He's probably younger than we'd think and we'd probably think that is unfortunate. He weighs 50 lbs. perhaps and is curled up - no speech, no communication capability that we observed. That is until we experience the jam session.
Jan told him long stories within a song she knew he'd recall, strumming her guitar all the time. Everyone else learned from her interaction with him as she reminded him of his friends, other song fests, visits in the room that is now for therapy.
We sang, "In The Garden" twice because my mom didn't remember the first time. We heard "Be Still" - I cried. We played kids' instruments to "Old MacDonald Had a Band", and so much more.
We came away realizing that God continues to amaze us. He took us into this room to be with people we pitied previously and He showed us how whole they are in His eyes by letting us see how whole they are in Jan's eyes.
There are angels among us.
Being in this home has been a blessing, whether my mom knows it or not. They are good to her. And, we believe God takes you home when your work is done. Her presence there may be nothing more than to open our eyes and hearts more. This may be her final gift. This may be how she is an angel among the other residents.
She may be leading us to really see all the others.
It was a humbling and memorable day.
Next time we go we an say "Hey Kenny", "Hi Gary" and "Howdy Bubba" with fresh eyes. People we thought were not whole truly are. People we felt sorry for really don't want us to feel that way.
There are angels. They are among us. Look for yourself. See.