We’ve suffered a cruel loss up here in Truchas. Someone has been poisoning dogs since last weekend. Seven have died, that I know of, and two of those were my dear and close friends–not my dogs–but family all the same.
I’ve been trying to come up with a way to write something about it for the blog, because it certainly is first and foremost on my mind, overriding and dominating everything else. And I don’t want to shy away from difficult issues. None of us wants the blog to become “fluff”I’m certain.
But I also want to take care with what I’m sending out into the blogosphere, because I believe thoughts and words carry energy and that energy has the power to affect the universe. It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. Added to that, I want to be conscious of the kind of energy I’m drawing to myself and to the blog. I have no doubt that whatever I put out there, calls the same back to me.
Clearly, we need to grieve, but we must grieve “cleanly.” It’s too easy to get angry and vengeful over something like this. We, obviously, don’t want to harbor thoughts of spoon-feeding this person strychnine. Well, maybe I do. The jury’s still out on that one.
Yet I want, in some small way, to mark the lives of these two truly incredible dogs. They were part of the same family–two rescue dogs taken on in separate years. They were as different from each other as they could be, but they became sister dogs all the same.
One of them was always worried. A very serious dog who took her duties seriously, she was vigilant in watching out for her family. Nothing slipped by her. But she was also afraid of thunder, fireworks, change… apparently, whenever she took refuge under the bed during such sieges, she expected the family would take care of itself. As macho as she was however, she was also very much a lady–very proper, delicate, assiduous. Her welcomes, upon arrival to her home, were often surreptitious. She would somehow slip in front of me, quiet and unseen, and then offer her pointy little wet nose in greeting.
The other was her sister’s polar opposite. She was big and gallumphy, loopy, playful and happy–an enormous puppy. Her greetings were very much in your face, a kind of, “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe JEANE’S here! You’re here! You’re here! You’re here! Let me be the first to tell you I’m THRILLED that you’re here! Oh my gosh… you came over!” But she wasn’t one of those dogs that bothered. After offering what she considered to be an appropriate greeting, she would go on to her own busy explorations. Through the course of an evening she would come by occasionally for a cuddle, which was comprised of a soft leaning toward and against me.
Both of these dogs were gentle and kind. Each of them was bright and inquisitive and funny and quirky and thoughtful. And loving. They rarely left their land except when with their people. They were young and hearty with many happy years ahead of them. It is a terrible heartbreak to lose them at all, and the manner of their loss is just too cruel to think about.
So I thought, as a kind of memoriam to these two sweet souls, I would ask each of you who live with pets, be they dogs, cats, birds or bunnies… to give them all a little extra loving in the name of these two angels–some extra pets, a few more treats… and tell them, specifically, how very happy you are that they are alive and with you. I like to think that if we all do that, somewhere, somehow, these two amazing girls will hear us and they will know how much they are loved.
Love to you all,