May We Be a Source of Happiness

I’m having trouble settling into writing because I miss my pal – Maisie’s usually curled up next to me as I write. She’s fine, just elsewhere at the moment, leaving me surprised at my sense of loss.

Which is ironic, because I’ve spent this past week sharing stories of actual loss of animal companions with people. People who’ve lost pets, of course, but also dog walkers, kennel owners, and vet techs – people who treat and care for animals and come to know them – they mourn, too, and can mourn hard. When we get to know another being, bonds form, bonds beyond language and our ordinary understanding.

There’s another, darker side to the story, too. At the SPCA last week, the surprise animal for the toddlers we host for “Little Bookworms” each week was an eight week puppy named Bounce: this beautiful, affectionate female had fallen from a balcony, and been left on the pavement until neighbors found her and brought her to the rescue center. It’s hard to imagine someone allowing such a thing to happen, but, sadly, the folks at the SPCA see this kind of thing all too often.

So today I’m in a prayerful mood, prayer as a way to witness and to center my spirit on what is good and true so these realities can light the way when lost or in despair.

Spirit of Life, hear my deepest wish: may I care for the well-being of others, may my mistakes and thoughtlessness be forgiven, may my life be a blessing to others, and may I give thanks each day for all the blessings others give to me.

Spirit of love, may my heart lead, my mind prevail and my hands reach out to bring about a more beautiful and just world for all who share it.

Give me the strength to know what I may change, the courage to face what can’t be altered, and the wisdom to know which is which.

Thank you for the companionship of all who dwell beside me. May I be a worthy companion to them.

Blessed be. May it be so.

Practicing Wholeness

Ah, summer fun out doors – carefree and easy times. Maybe our iguana gets to rule the screened in porch, or the cockatiel or conure perches there in the sun. These are the days we remember when the cold and wild winds blow, or the rough times shadow us. My dog and I just enjoyed an evening soccer scrum with her favorite big blue ball. I curd an evening romping romp with her favorite big blue rough times shadow us. t our time outside short, though, because it’s hot and she’d eaten just an hour ago and I recently learned about bloat.

Bloat’s not good, not at all, and if you don’t know about it, please look it up now – there’s lots of helpful and practical material out there that may save your animal’s life.

We can avoid or prevent many things from happening to those we love, but not everything, by any means. Sometimes, when bad things happen, we have no choices – we have to accept events as they’ve unfolded. There are also times when knowing your pet and having some resources can offer you options. Friends of mine have a small dog who, as a puppy, raced out an open door and onto the street. He was hit by a car and badly hurt. My friends took a chance, had some resources, and today their beloved dog races around on three legs, loving life.

Sometimes, even when it comes to the end of a life, we may have choices. I value hospice care because it’s one such choice for some people and their loved one when faced with a terminal illness. Recognizing that we can establish deep bonds with other animals, today hospice care is increasingly available for them as well as well as humans.

Hospice care modeled on the best of human hospice offers pain relief above all else- but doesn’t stop at the physical pain. Hospice care includes emotional support and spiritual care. For animal caregivers, spiritual care acknowledges the great rewards in walking the whole journey of life with your companion, and also that there are challenges on such a path.

As your companion’s primary caregiver, you’ll make vital decisions while tending to the physical and emotional needs of your pet. In addition, you may have to manage the needs and concerns of other loved ones – family and friends. Renewing your own spirit will enhance this precious time and insure that you are able to give the best care possible.

Finding a sustainable spiritual practice now will help you feel more confident that you are making the best choices, when you have them, and accepting life in all its fullness, sadness alongside joy, when you do not.

For my practice, I just started a gratitude journal. I decided I could make time to write - at the start or end of every day- at least three things I’m thankful for. It’s been a surprise to find the list grow longer at every session, and in the process to let go of the inconsequential parts of my day. It’s like a shower for the soul.

Anyone have a practice that helps you stay centered and renew your sense of purpose? Dancing, meditating, prayer beads, or a special piece of music? Please feel free to share what works for you in the comment box below.

New England Pet Hospice is on the Runway

A few days ago I drove out to Bolton – beautiful apple country- to meet with Heather Merrill, the founder of the New England Pet Hospice. Dressed in my Pet Hospice uni of a maroon shirt and khaki pants, we shared our enthusiasms and our ideas over coffee, then set out for the Integrative Animal Health Center, where veterinarian Dr. Randy Caviness and his team welcomed us.

I knew we were in an interesting place when I pulled into the drive, and a Buddha statue sat across from the entrance. Inside there were images from Taoism and beautiful photos of animals, along with a Tang-style statue of a horse. Dr. Randy and his team treat animals holistically and we were there to tell them how the pet hospice services would complement and support their work with animals and their caregivers.

Heather led off by talking about the many ways members of the hospice team help with respite care, nursing care, transportation, housekeeping and emotional support for the family. She stressed how her vision of animal hospice care is modeled carefully on human hospice care. I talked about grief support, creating memorial and funeral services, and also about support around euthanasia when that seems to be the best course. When I talked about supporting vet staff as well, the comments were very positive. Most people trained in medicine are compassionate, caring folks, but often don't have the time or the expertise to offer as much emotional or spiritual support as might be needed.

Heather and I, in full launch mode, appreciated the careful listening and the helpful feedback we were given.

Just today I found out that we’ll be dedicating a beautiful memorial garden for pets in Sudbury this summer. All of these options affirm my belief in the depth of the relationships that develop between species, and that honoring them is important for all beings.

Stay tuned for two opportunities to have your pets blessed: open to all, it will be held on October 2 at the First Parish in Brookline at 3pm, and another opportunity in the fall will be in Sudbury, the date and time TBA.

My Big Oops

Yesterday morning I felt awful because I had forgotten to follow through on a pet sit for my dog Maisie and I had to attend a six hour meeting starting in the late afternoon. Maisie, a five year old Morkie, part Yorkie, part Maltese, is so patient when I work, and I’m a bad pet owner, and here it was National Pet Week! Long story short, I scrambled and came up empty...what to do?

I didn't like to leave Maisie home alone for that long, and I couldn’t take her to the interviews I was overseeing, though she might have been a great ice breaker. I decided I would take her the work, where she often sleeps very comfortably in my office, and visit her during the breaks. It wasn’t ideal, but off we went.

We took a walk before the meeting, enjoying being outside on one of those spring afternoons where you can hear the maple leaves growing, smell the earthworms doing their thing in the dirt, and watch all the tulips dancing with the daffodils. Perfect. Maisie did her business and I cleared my head enough to notice something I’d left off the interview agenda.

Of course I gave Maisie a Kong toy to play with and to ease my conscience. But the best thing that happened was that a fellow interviewer’s teen found my office a good place to spend some time, and he was great with Maisie. He took her on the all-important post-dinner walk, and she kept him company while he played computer games.

And after the meeting was over they both joined us, both happy to get on with whatever came next, helping us make the transition from tough choices to home.

While it wasn’t smart to wait so late to plan for my pet’s care, and I’m lucky I can take my pet to the office, my mistake led to some insights, some deeper connections, and a tail wagging ending to a long day.

So hats off to pets and to their mostly responsible caregivers – being present to and understanding of one another's needs is how we make ourselves worthy of the company we keep!

Honk if You Like Spring

Not until the end of this past week was I able to come up for air and relax outside. With the dog, of course. Maisie and I took one of our longer walks down to the river, where it meanders under bridges and roadways, with plenty of green space and paths alongside for bikers, runners and walkers. A few miniature islands and peninsulas add visual perks for us and cool perches and nesting spots for birds.

My week had buzzed, so I sought peace and quiet – and how Mother Nature belly laughed! She used the Canada geese. They’re courting and nesting now, and stake out real estate on these little bars and banks with which to convince their lady loves that they’re husband material.

One little island had five Canada geese on it, their long black necks sticking up from the brush like periscopes. Even I could tell that this was two geese too many. From the center of it all one goose lowered his head like a half-back, his shoulders spread and braced for the impact and charged, honking like an air raid siren. Mr. Encroacher ducked and charged and honked likewise and they kind of pushed each other. The center island goose prevailed and, by chasing the other out into the water, created a DMZ.

Meanwhile, another incursion was met and rebuffed on the opposite side of the little patch of dirt and brush. Lots more honks from cheerleaders in the water. 0ur walk was punctuated by the trumpeting and the chirruping of birds of all kinds.

Like Macbeth’s witches, three cormorants huddled on some limbs overlooking the water, and having adjusted their black capes, remained silent.

Spring had another surprise – well, not really a surprise, but a reminder. Maisie was wandering around, sniffing what appeared to be amazing sniffs, and failed to see a small silvery dog approach, clearly very lame but poking around as best it could. His owner was nearby, watching. Tobey, a poodley mix, was recovering from a recent stroke and this was one of his first forays out; she reveled that he was doing, motivated perhaps by those self-same smells as held Maisie in thrall.

Julie, we’ll call the owner, shared that Tobey was about 12 or 13 when she’d adopted him, a senior rescue. She’d had him for three years when the stroke left part of his left side paralyzed. Other than the bum left leg, I only noticed a little droopiness on the left side of his mouth, but I didn’t have time to ask if that affected his eating – she was concerned to get Tobey back to the stroller she’d brought along before he used up all his strength.

As Maisie and I continued our circuit I thought about the love of life and the will to stay part of it, smells, honks, crazy mating games and all. I thought about my mom’s recent fall and recovery, her will to get back to the business of living, going where she wants to when she wants to. And I thought about Tobey, at age 16, at least as eager to get his nose into the dirt as my mother is to get close to the sweet earth of her garden. In spite of the pain, the awkwardness, and the inevitable tiredness.

Yes, I thought as I left the park, spring honks and sniffs and twitters with living, and what wonderful music that is.

Get Your Crush On

Volunteering at an animal shelter is dangerous – and I’m not talking bites and scratches – I’m talking about crazy mad crushes. Wrinkly dogs, aloof cats, watchful parakeets, or nosy rats –I crush on them all. It’s so easy to fall in love with eager eyes and paws and cocked heads. Easy to feel that you’d attain perfect (Okay, okay - purrrr-fect.) happiness if you only could bring them home.

But I’m learning about pets: animals, clean and calm and caged are like those gorgeous displays of multiple t-shirts in luscious colors. You buy one and get home and – ho-hum. One shirt, pretty, but not the effect that tickled your happy while doing retail therapy.

I think of those pretty shirts especially when I see ferrets curled in a puppy pile – adorable, snuggly – about to whirl into fun mode. You bring one home and it’s the two of you, BUT... you can’t lie curled in the fetal position all day, or toss a little ball into the night. You’re bored and the animal you love is bored, and then there’s guilt setting in. But two means twice the expense and they go a bit feral if you don’t interact with them for stretches, so guilt AND anxiety set in.

Some days the world seems divided into two groups: people who like animals and people who don’t, particularly. This is really simplistic, of course, because we fall along a broad spectrum of connection, we with myriad other animals.

What I have noticed is that as our numbers grow and grow, while the numbers of other species dwindle we seem increasingly to want to have animals close by. (Extreme animal stories abound: pet lions, tigers, and pythons- until, that is, they start behaving like animals.) But I’m talking about regular pets and long-term loving them, and how we have to get smarter about our crushes.

Our pets’ lifespans mostly are shorter than ours, so if we really love them, we take into account their training period, their reproductive lives, and their geriatric needs. To be a true animal lover, I’ve come to believe, means taking a “’til death do we part” vow. And having a plan that includes other options than euthanasia, if at all possible. (Take a close look at pet insurance plans, and also New England Pet Hospice for more information and support of your commitment.)

Loving other animals can provide spiritual deepening: humbling and heart-expanding, our pets connect us with the cosmos, its daily mysteries and endless questions. And it’s can be - should be- mutually rewarding: from us pets receive affection, care, and good health care – even dental! The richest rewards are developing understanding of one another in spite of differences in language, expression, and needs. The presence of another animal in our life is a gift for which we can show our gratitude in many ways – ‘til death parts us.

Just Wondering

There are lots of kinds of wonder – there’s the kind that lights up children’s faces at the first snowfall, at the sight of someone beloved, or at hitting the ball with a smack that says “Homerun!” There’s seeing a loved one come home, safe and sound, from war, and there’s a new parent grinning rather tentatively at their brand new wrinkled baby. Poet Mary Oliver describes the humble Carolina wren’s bold song as a source of wonder for her.

We catch this kind of wonderful faster than a cold... and then there’s the old fashioned “What the heck was that!” kind of wonder: something falls out of the sky or swirls darkly across the face of the earth making us run for our lives.

Maybe you felt this kind of wonder on hearing about birds falling from the sky this past January. According to one local paper: “Dozens of lawns, streets and rooftops for more than a mile in Beebe, Ark., were covered with the corpses of red-winged black birds. An aerial survey showed that no other dead birds were found outside that area.”

Imagine that – a square mile of bird bodies! How tragic and how weird. In ancient days, angry prophets would have found this to be a sign of some human failing. Some of us, I know, wonder if it isn’t a sign of environmental degradation that’s eroding some animal species. Some of us were grossed out and flipped the channel. The scientific among us wondered if it might have been lightning or disease. And others of us just wondered at it – all those birds just dropping out of the sky- oh my, why?

What shocked me awake was that scientists responded without alarm: they reported that hundreds of thousands of birds die each year – and not only of human-made causes.

A vivid memory: one May in 1970, staying at my grandparents’ in Walpole, I was woken just before dawn by the stirrings and then a symphony of bird song – I’ve never before or since heard so loud, long, or various an orchestration. I was very awake then, sipping my “own cup of gladness,” as poet Mary Oliver put it in “A Wren from Carolina.” My introduction to the spring migration.

It was a true wonder, herald of nothing and everything – the gift of a new day. Every spring since I listen for that symphony: I hear the redwings in the wetlands, the thrushes and robins and myriad others - many just passing through, others settling in and down for the nesting season. I haven't heard such a glorious con gusto chorale since. Grace notes, we can call them, do surprise my spirit into joy and wonder.