Mortality

Sometimes strong emotions hit me and my mind spins about life, mortality, love, loss, and my place in it all. Death is one of those non-negotiables that can be really hard to accept. Some seem to be more at peace with it than others. I am the person who thinks of it often, perhaps because I desire to come to more of an understanding and peace with it but sometimes because of the common feeling of alone-ness and a fear of that lasting. I want my life to count.

It’s these times I find myself drawn to a swingset, a hard run, nature, or some animal love. I adore my cats but dependent on their mood, I can’t always count on them to give me a cuddle session.  So if my cats are feeling particularly independent and I’m in need of a good animal hug, I head to my sister’s house to see her dog Scotch.

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I can’t mention Scotch without mentioning his brother Nick. Several months ago, after several years of health struggles, it was time for us to say goodbye to Nick. Since then I’ve had trouble accepting that I won’t be able to pet his soft black hair again. In fact, when I say I go to my sister’s house to see her dog Scotch, I really mean I go to her house to see Nick and Scotch. They were together from the moment they were born and are more two dogs in one than two separate dogs. There are many things that keep Nick alive and one of those is the presence of his brother Scotch.

Watching Nick and Scotch together was seeing one soul in motion, not two. Their tails were always wagging in the same direction and even when they ran, their gait, tails, and the way their ears flapped in the wind perfectly matched. Scotch, the serious and moody athlete and Nick, the happy go-lucky playful dog were perfect complements.

It’s amazing to see Scotch now; now that Nick is gone, I see more of Nick in him than ever. He seems to have more a playful side. It’s impossible to see him running with his tail wagging, ears flopping, and little prance without seeing Nick right beside him in his matching gait. There are other things that keep Nick alive for me – one of those things being wildflowers. I find it impossible to see beautiful fields of flowers or even the solitary lone flower along a highway without thinking of that fluffy black dog I love so dearly. It’s impossible to talk to a person filled with joy in the midst of suffering without thinking of Nick, who even on his last day when in so much pain, was still wagging his tail. His was purely a happy little soul.

Nick, Christmas 2011.

 My sister, Luisa, with her doggies Nick and Scotch, Christmas 2011.

Nick and Scotch running side by side in one of their favorite parks. These are the memories I have of them.

I recently went back to this spot with Scotch. I remember this day so clearly.  Walking with them  made the whole world okay.

A painting I did in honor of Nick's courage and love for life.

We will forever miss him.

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Death is funny like that. You never know how it will be and we don’t really know what happens but we all have our own story. My heart is huge for animals and I think this is twofold: I love their ability to be and I love their pure acceptance of what is. We all, I believe, have a lot to learn from our furry four-legged friends. They know when their time has come and their acceptance, I believe, can help us accept it.

Recently someone shared the following poem with me:

The love of an animal permits us to unfold, to open up, to drop our defenses, and to be naked, not only physically but psychologically and spiritually as well. With an animal, we let ourselves be seen instead of hiding behind our personalities, our cultures, our jobs, our clothing, or our make up. They know us as no one else does, in our private joys, angry rages, deepest despair, in sickness and in health. All the while, their calm steady presence gives us an unwavering love like few others on earth. Our animal companions see through us to the very soul of our soil, encouraging the unfolding of a sacred trust. If there is such thing as a soul mate, then surely this is it.

Perhaps their presence helps teach us how to have this psychological and spiritual nakedness in other places in our lives. A pretty amazing gift…

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My oldest cat turned 10 yesterday. We have been together since she was 5 months and she has seen me through a decade filled with lots of ups and downs.  With what seems to be way too much animal loss lately, I feel extra celebratory of her (and my other cat’s) presence in my life. It’s been a good reminder to appreciate who and what is in front of me now. I don’t know what it means to die but I do know that the way I live today matters. I am and will continue to do my best.