We can often talk to the dogs we love, and we can often listen to them.
This is not just the gift of the psychically empowered and the spiritually advanced.
It is the mark of the dog lover and the dog.
Many of us live with dogs to whom we are powerfully, spiritually and intrinsically connected.
This week had its ups and downs, but the worst moment for me was on Tuesday when Red lay barely consciously in a huge medical crate at the vet, continued to IV drips meant to hydrate him, he had a raging fever, had not eaten in days and seemed to me to be fading fast.
Our very skilled vet had no idea what was wrong with him.
Around me, the vet staff was grim, loving and quiet, like nurses in a hospice ward. I could see the worry in their faces, they spoke to me in hushed tones and brought me chairs and blankets.
I opened the crate door, sat on the floor and Red put his head on my arm and I leaned forward and we just touched one another, nose to nose. Gunner, a Lab a few crates down, growled softly. I listened to the beep of the IV monitor.
It was perhaps the most important moment in Red and my remarkable time together, and I thought for a few moments that it would be our last. I thought we might be saying goodbye to one another.
I started to cry, and Red’s eyes popped open. He had, as a friend suggested, cracked open my heart. And I could hardly bear to see him so miserable and sick.
Don’t do that, no need to mourn for me.
It was then we began a conversation that I will not soon forget, and that has changed and deeply affected me. Sometimes, we are deeper than we know, sometimes I am so busy watching the magic in others that I can’t see it in myself.
In that moment, I saw that Red was an intimate and beloved companion of enormous importance to me, second only to Maria. He is my soul dog, my partner in life, he reflects me and is part of my shadow on the earth.
In this way, I have overcome loneliness and anger and disconnection. And discovered the depths of compassion and empathy.
This animal has offered me what I have always needed and wanted, and what so many people seek from animals: faithful love and unswerving devotion and compassion. Even Maria is not so simple and can never be taken for granted.
There is no hate or envy or fatigue or failure in this relationship, it is all love and connection. He will never shun me, hate me or walk away from me, as so many human beings have.
There is nothing about me that this animal cannot understand, speech is unnecessary, understanding comes without words. I know that animal fantasies are often an attempt to substitute for my discarded and unloving family an uncritical but safe and always loving thing.
So we began our dialogue, and I wish to recall it and share it before it dims or vanishes in the rush of time and life.
Is this goodbye? Are you leaving?
No, I’m not leaving. I am not done, our work together is not finished, my work is not done. I am weary and sick and tired, I am not dying. Please don’t be afraid of that. It’s not my time.
I got that message, it came right through to me and landed in my heart. I heard it and believed it and trusted that. After that, I never again feared that Red would leave me, I knew he would recover.
What are you feeling? I know we both hate drama.
I am so tired. I feel so weak, I can’t feel hunger or peace. I will need your help, I have to rest. Please help me and bear with me. I will do anything you ask, I just need you to know how tired I am.
I will help you, I will take good care of you and listen to what you need.
I know. I understand you. I remember when you had this sickness, two years ago. You were so tired, you could not move for days, or eat and move much, you just slept and slept.
I remember. That was the sickest I ever was.
That’s my sickness now. Please don’t be afraid. We have so much work to do together, and we are just beginning. I see you, I see the compassion and empathy that is in your heart and struggling to come out. That’s why I’m here. We are okay. Help me to rest. It is all about compassion, the work of doing good.
I understand Get well and come home. We will be spending a lot of time sitting in the pasture watching Fate run around.
From that moment, I stopped being fearful or grim. I knew he would wake up and rise up and come home.
It’s not his time.
__
That’s what I heard and felt, that was our conversation in the vet’s office Tuesday afternoon. Red is home now, and he is still struggling. He can barely eat, and I know how much he needs to rest. He sleeps almost all of the day, his body, I can sense, is worn down. The vet says no dog has ever tested positive for four infectious diseases at once. (And lived, she almost said.) But I have no doubt that he will live.
As I write this, he is laying by my feet, where he always is when I write, speech is unnecessary, understanding comes without words.
Red will be well, and it will take awhile. And he has given me yet another gift, a chance to stop telling lies to myself, a chance to grow and learn and open up.
So there it is, that’s where we are. An aging writer who has just written a book called “Talking To Animals” had the great opportunity to talk to one at an important time. It made all the difference to me. Perhaps I am deeper than I know.
