Category Archives: pets

higher mind

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The difference in mind between man and the higher animals, great as it is, certainly is one of degree and not of kind.

– Charles Darwin

I used to talk to my dog Tasha in complete sentences, like, “Why don’t you move over into your seat, Tasha,” and she understood. My Dad tells a story of a time when he took our Stella to a picnic area of a small lake near Delano.

Dad often took Stella for walks off leash on the bluffs here in Carpinteria, and sometimes on the beach. She had a unique habit of looking back frequently, to make sure her people were still with her. That day in Delano, there was no one else around. Dad let Stella off leash and let her sniff around the trees, and he hid behind one of them to watch her. In a moment, she began to look for him. She looked all around at the trees and the lake. She walked all around his pickup truck, looking up at the windows. She did not wander off. And she was so happy when he stepped out from his hiding place.

Our pets have intelligence beyond our understanding of it. Their capacity for companionship simply cannot be overstated, and their legendary unconditional love is far more than pack instinct. It is a gift from God.

merry christmas!

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Well, I guess it’s a little late to be yawping out Merry Christmas upon the Hoople-trodden thoroughfare, but I’ve been OBE.* My folks and I returned last night from our annual pilgrimage to the woody shire where my brother the Hobbit Prince dwells in a wee cottage with our kindly kin and a pack of three toothsome hoodoo cats.

I amuse myself. I tease because my Bro lives in a place with lots of real trees, while I live in a handsome condo complex with tall shrubbery; lollipop trees, misbegotten of some illconsidered coupling of Edward Scissorhands and The Knights Who Say Ni.

We had a lovely time. It rained through Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, with even a spattering of hail to keep it exciting. It was nice and cold, which makes it all more Christmasy to me. Good old Santa always comes through, since as a group and speaking very generally, we’ve been good. There were toys to play with and an Elfin Nephew to keep good charge of that. All the family furries got new woobies to gnaw and claw and chase. Our Happy loves to make her woobies squeak; oh, how they do suffer ‘tween her teeth.

We, some of us, came down with Christmas colds, which kinda sucked. But I’m feeling better today. My head is finally clearing, if not my winterslumbering mind. Last night was admittedly miserable. Slipping down off Tejon Pass into the Santa Clarita valley, my ears plugged up and my head felt like a football in a bench vice. So it goes. Should be all cleared up in a few more days, and at least I can stay off the I-5 for the foreseeable future.

I hope you and yours had a holly jolly Christmas too, this year, and got some pudding in your stocking or whatever you’re into. And if you were the host of this year’s Dickensian fete, you might need to know how to clean your toilet with a Coke.

Here’s a Thought For The Day.

Neither genius, fame, nor love show the greatness of the soul. Only kindness can do that.
– Jean Baptiste Henri Lacordaire
preacher, journalist and activist (1802-1861)

*Overcome by Events or Out of Body Experience, your choice.

3 years

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So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

~Robinson Jeffers

Letter from God

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A few days ago, I went off on a rant about the general failure to thrive of human civilization. Though I don’t necessarily think I was wrong, I certainly wish to consider how broad was my generalization, and make a conditional retraction. I should have said that the institutions of civilization have failed to support the betterment of life for people.

Things like the following tend to break my heart just enough to see where it needs to be fixed. It arrived by email from my Mom today; author, unknown. Maybe, on many levels that rarely make the mainstream media, we’re not doing so badly after all. Maybe people are actually lovable.

This is one of the kindest things I’ve ever experienced. I have no way to know who sent it, but there is a kind soul working in the dead letter office of the US Postal Service.

Our 14-year-old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey! She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so she dictated these words:

Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith.

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed,” To Meredith” in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, “When a Pet Dies.” Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.

Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog.

Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.

Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much.

By the way, I am wherever there is love.

Love,

God

busy week

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It has been a busy week. Fun family time and work stuff, mostly. No preparations for eternity, no work on the novel, the stories, or the poems. Today, a job interview; wish me luck with that.

On monday I got into a tussle with our little dog Happy, trying to prevent her eating a little piece of chicken some slob dropped in the park. She didn’t understand I was trying to save her from swallowing a bone, like the one that almost killed her in 2005. She panicked and bit me. No big deal, my hand is healing. And Happy is over it too. But I’m still annoyed with the cretins who use that park on Sunday afternoons.

Anyway, it hasn’t been a bad week, but I’m looking forward to Saturday anyway. I need to get some weekend air and exercise.

Since I have nothing new for you, here’s an old poem I never finished but mostly abandoned.

MADE OF GLASS

I’m here now. It rained
for two days and I stood
very still, made of glass.

At midnight, I buttered bread,
made tea, and it rained. Outside,
there were painful sounds.

I will be gone soon,
becomming a storm over the dull
hills. That’s how it is.

when woof comes to worse

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Jeff Gordon, tech blogger/podcaster for APM, reports on a study which found that a robotic dog was “as effective as a real dog in relieving loneliness and fostering emotional attachment.”

Hold on to your flea collars kids, because I’m about to disagree: Oh, what a pile of puppy poo. (Hey, this is a family blog.)

If you can convince God to let you keep it – even after 12-16 years – by changing the batteries, then you can’t form the essential bond that is born of the irredeemable finitude of life. Everything is on it’s way to somewhere else, and that basic fact of life is what makes our short time together here precious. As one who has loved and lost pets, I assert that it is love – not entertainment – that defines our relationships with animals, and distracts us from the truth that we all die alone.

“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.”

“The Once Again Prince” from Separate Lifetimes by Irving Townsend

That being said, I’ll make these allowances for the fleeting consolations of materialism:

We all have mementos of those we’ve loved and had to let go. I have my dog Tasha’s collar hanging on the bed post.

Remember these little guys from the classic movie Silent Running ?

Alright, I’ll admit that it was impossible not to feel attached to Hewey, Dewey, and Louie. But I just don’t think that artificial anything can ever be a substitute for a real little heart, beating at your feet.

Hope’s new wheels

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People just amaze me sometimes. This little Maltese puppy was born last summer without front legs. So people in Chattanooga TN made her a little custom wheelchair and are teaching her to use it. I’ve seen wheelchairs for dogs before – for their back legs – and I’ve helped with fundraising for that. But a front prosthetic is a whole different ballgame.

This little dog is so sweet, and what these folks are doing for her is beautiful.

If you would like to help pets in need, you can do that at imom.org.
Thanks to Cindy for sharing this with me.