SWEET OLD GIRL

A very sweet old lady I knew died last Saturday.

The date was pre-arranged.  She had her family around her and she was happy (if a little bit tired) after a spectacular sunny day spent with her favorite people in her favorite place.  The place they would sprinkle her ashes when she was gone.

She had many of the ailments associated with her age group: Cataracts, hearing loss, arthritis, lowered stamina. Their normalcy did not lessen their difficulty or her suffering.  It was fairly certain that she had cancer although it was never officially diagnosed because, at her age, chemo and radiation were out of the question.  Really – why go through that at 84?  That would only add to her suffering. She needed help getting around and incontinence was beginning to rear its ugly head.  The only thing ahead of her – and it was probably looming close – was more pain and emergency intervention. 

And so, on Friday night, her family threw her a going away party.  30 people attended throughout the course of the night and many more sent regrets and condolences and love.  There was food and drink and laughter and tears and hugging and philosophical talk of death and passing and life.  The guest of honor basked in the limelight and visibly perked up from all the attention. 

The next day was spent sitting on the beach, smelling the salty sweet air and water.  Her family spared no kisses, no hugs, no tears.  The sunshine was clouded only by the knowledge that time was running out, by their resignation to the dreaded moment when the medication would be administered that would cause her heart to stop and end her life on this earth.  Knowing that this was the last time they would be together in this way made everything sharper, clearer, brighter.  And so, so bittersweet. 

Love on Four Legs

How do you know when it’s time to put your dog down?  When she’s had enough? Dog owners walk a fine line between reason and compassion.  The suffering and diminished quality of an old dog’s life is one thing. But rational thinking can be clouded by sweet memories and the moments when our dogs seemed to transcend their animal nature, responding uncannily to our needs, our thoughts, our human-ness.

Our dog, Lovey, has astonished us with her pure, spot-on responses to certain situations.  Call me crazy.  I don’t care.  Lovey and I know the truth.

One night, sick in bed, unable to get warm, I thought how nice it would be to have Lovey up on the bed – normally forbidden territory.  The thought of her warm, soft body close to mine circled around my feverish brain for a while when I heard her thumping up the stairs.  With a determined leap she was on the bed and curled up, her back pressed against me.  Her warmth seeped into my bones and I finally slept. Coincidence?

Saving Starfish

It's been raining hard in Seattle for several days now.  The gusts of wind at night are intense - I'd guess last night's blow to be at times in the 50's (knots per hour, that is).  During the night, while we slept, the boat strained on its lines and the rain beat down hard, waking me up repeatedly.  I was okay with it because a) I knew we were perfectly safe and b) because it is the most delicious feeling in the world to snuggle deeper under the covers, safe and sound, while a storm is raging just inches away from my bed.  The boat is warm and dry and we are completely protected - but we are as close to the weather as we could be and still be unaffected.

Last night, before turning in for the night, I realized that Lovey (my 10 year old dog and the love of my life)  still needed to be walked.  Mind you, on a boat, way out on the end of the dock, this is no small feat - not even close to opening the front door and letting the dog out for a quick pee, shivering on the front porch while waiting.  We chose our slip out at the end of E-dock, intentionally - it's quiet, it's private, and we have easy access to an unobstructed view of the sunset over the Olympics.  But it's about a quarter mile down the dock, a sharp right on the last finger pier and then a hairpin left to the ramp.  Then up the ramp to the parking lot and then a little ways to a place where Lovey can do her business.  So - last night when I realized that I still had this considerable chore before pj's and book time, I groaned, but then suited up and suited Lovey up (yes, she has a raincoat, too) and began the process of helping her off the boat and then starting our snail's pace walk (she's kind of a creaky old thing) down the dock.   The temperature was on the warmer side, the rain had slowed to a fine mist and it was actually pretty in a rainy sort of way.

As I turned right at the end of the dock, heading towards the ramp, I saw two oddly-shaped things on the dock.  At first I thought someone had dropped a couple of banana peels.

But as I got closer, I saw that they were starfish. Both were upside down and therefore unable to move on their own to safety.  The light shining on them illuminated their many little "legs," wriggling, waving, seemingly frantically, but making contact only with the air above them.  I wondered if the extreme low tide had caused them to fall off a pier pole, but then surmised that a seagull had dropped its snack, unable to carry it and fly in the rain. (I have watched a seagull swallow a starfish - hard to believe if you've never seen it.  The starfish ended up lodged in the gull's neck, protruding at odd angles, rendering the gull more of a cartoon character and a comical one at that.)   Lying on the dock, these two creatures could easily become a midnight snack for an otter or a more determined sea gull.

I picked one up and tossed it gently back in the water.  Lovey and I watched it float slowly down to the bottom of the clear night water.  I nudged the other with my foot until it plopped over the side of the dock.  I forgot about the rain for a few moments and looked into the water thinking about the life down below and the starfish finding their way to safety, snuggling under their covers while the storm raged overhead.  It was lovely and something that would never have happened except for my old dog who needed a walk.  We saved a couple of starfish tonight, Lovey and I.