Holiday warmth: Waning and Waxing
We are almost halfway thru the Hannukah season, four days from the winter solstice, a week from Christmas Eve and two weeks from the New Year. Each of those celebrations is about faith in a greater promise than any of us individually can offer. I want to wish everyone the most glorious mid-winter season and fulfilling year ahead. May it be one of greater peace, reconciliation and hope for all beings on this earth. Thank you all for being part of an expanding circle to see that vision realized worldwide.
I have posted less often than usual lately becuase my remaining elderly dog has been struggling with her health lately. Therefore, I too have been struggling with my own health as exhaustion sets in. The vet tells me her body will give out before her mind. So she paces on the floor below me when she needs to go out, when she needs help getting on the couch, when she wants me to let the cat in and when she wants me to roll the ball for her. She can no longer catch it often when I throw it. But rolling will do.
She may pace at regular intervals in any given night, including at 1AM, 3AM, 5AM and 6AM, often interrupting my sleep. If I don't wake and check, there may be a mess to clean up and even then, I am regularly too late for the event. She is contrite when that happens and shamed. But she has very little nerve control in her hind end. So I just clean it up, put her outside for a bit and go back upstairs to try to get more sleep.
My other elderly dog, who passed away in June, was clearly at the point where she had had enough. She hung around to be with me but it was more and more of an effort of generosity on both our parts. When she finally went in her sleep, it was a blessing for her. This one was never an easy dog. As a young dog, she was full of endless energy and occasional aggression. As a doberman, that earned her a bad reputation. As sweet and wise as she is now, she is well-aware of the difficulties she cannot control anymore. But after her remorse and sorrow is over, she still wants to play or go out for a walk, hobbled as she is, lame, athritic and weak.
In the old days, we the death of the older year, in the form of the male (or in some cases female) sacrifice, was the presumed source of generation of the young year (youth, spring) ahead. This year of world-shattering changes in the air, may I see the passing of my old dog as a sign that we have all done the best we can, and new things are coming with all the promise and risk that implies. And may that transition come in her time and not mine.
I have posted less often than usual lately becuase my remaining elderly dog has been struggling with her health lately. Therefore, I too have been struggling with my own health as exhaustion sets in. The vet tells me her body will give out before her mind. So she paces on the floor below me when she needs to go out, when she needs help getting on the couch, when she wants me to let the cat in and when she wants me to roll the ball for her. She can no longer catch it often when I throw it. But rolling will do.
She may pace at regular intervals in any given night, including at 1AM, 3AM, 5AM and 6AM, often interrupting my sleep. If I don't wake and check, there may be a mess to clean up and even then, I am regularly too late for the event. She is contrite when that happens and shamed. But she has very little nerve control in her hind end. So I just clean it up, put her outside for a bit and go back upstairs to try to get more sleep.
My other elderly dog, who passed away in June, was clearly at the point where she had had enough. She hung around to be with me but it was more and more of an effort of generosity on both our parts. When she finally went in her sleep, it was a blessing for her. This one was never an easy dog. As a young dog, she was full of endless energy and occasional aggression. As a doberman, that earned her a bad reputation. As sweet and wise as she is now, she is well-aware of the difficulties she cannot control anymore. But after her remorse and sorrow is over, she still wants to play or go out for a walk, hobbled as she is, lame, athritic and weak.
In the old days, we the death of the older year, in the form of the male (or in some cases female) sacrifice, was the presumed source of generation of the young year (youth, spring) ahead. This year of world-shattering changes in the air, may I see the passing of my old dog as a sign that we have all done the best we can, and new things are coming with all the promise and risk that implies. And may that transition come in her time and not mine.
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