This could be the most important lesson we learn from our dear dogs.
Reclining Clyde
Our immediate neighbours to the South of us, Larry and Janell, lost one of their dogs last Saturday. Here’s the email that was sent out by Larry:
Bad day at the ranch
We lost Clyde today. A neighbor who is a veterinarian came by this morning and did the deed. He had cancer in his shoulder, we had a tumor removed a couple of months ago but there must have been some left because his left front became totally unusable and then his left rear started to go too. We tried everything that the vets could come up with but it was starting to eat him up.
He was born in central South Dakota at a cattle ranch where I got him in April 2004, a six week old black bundle of wrinkles. He learned his manners from Barney, who we lost a little over 2 years ago from cancer as well. Barney and Clyde, what a GREAT pair!!
We still have Baxter the Aussie, who has pretty well recovered from getting hit by a car and severely injured the beginning of last month and Bob the cat.
I will miss Clyde terribly, just like I have ALL my labs! They are wonderful dogs. Just thinking that I’ll probably never have another big floppy eared pal like that makes me want to just cry my eyes out!!
One of the fondest memories of my life is/was going bird hunting, especially ducks, and having a well mannered lab as my partner!! I’ve shared time and my lunch with some good ones!! I so very much wish/hope that there really is a “RAINBOW BRIDGE”!!
Jean and I obviously knew Clyde and can confirm that he was the most gentle, kind-hearted dog one could find.
I wanted to treasure the memory of Clyde, on behalf of all the dear dogs in the world, and asked Larry and Janell if they would be comfortable with me publishing the email. They replied without hesitation that it was fine and then sent me some photographs of Clyde to include in this post.
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So the easy course for this post would be to leave it at this and move on. (And, please, if you are not up for a degree of introspection from yours truly, then do stop reading at this point!)
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But when I awoke this morning (Tuesday), a little after 5am, Jean still asleep next to me, three dogs likewise across the bed, and knowing I would be writing about Clyde later on in the day, I started to reflect on life and death and was there a lesson for us humans in the death of our beloved dogs. When Jean awoke an hour later, I asked her how many of her dogs had died over the years. She replied that there had been at least twenty dogs that had died and that she could remember each and every one of them.
That then opened up a much deeper reflection on death and whether our dogs really can offer us a lesson in this regard. For I’m not ashamed to admit that at times I feel scared about the future. I’m 70-years-old, seeing the signs of what the medics call ‘cognitive ageing’, have a few minor challenges in the areas of prostate, blood pressure, thyroid, and know how terribly unprepared I am for the second of life’s two certainties: death.
Jean’s view was that dogs have the ability to live so perfectly in the present that, except in very rare occasions, they don’t grieve for the loss of a loved one. Clearly, a significant difference between dogs and us humans.
Then it was clear that we humans only grieve for the death of someone we knew. That within the family that rarely extended back beyond our grand-parents. That seemed to offer some philosophical help. For if it comes down to the memories that others will have of us, after we have died, then it behoves us to live the best life we can, doing our best at every stage in our lives. Accepting that it is impossible not to make mistakes and end up with regrets, yet so long as we try to be true to ourselves then that’s all that matters.
It was then a very small onward step to love and the potential for the greatest learning from our dogs. For dogs so frequently show us the magic of unconditional love.
Back to Clyde.
Here are two other photographs of dear Clyde, separated by the words in Larry’s covering email.
Clyde cleaning Pearl the lamb.
Paul, here are a few pictures of Clyde. Feel free to use what you like. We always said Clyde had a big heart, big stomach and no ambition as evidenced by these pictures! At one time we were nursing an orphan lamb in the house, Clyde adopted the lamb, Pearl, and looked after her, Larry.
Clyde and Pearl demonstrating a dear friendship.
I know that when our Lilly dies, she is 17, Jean will weep many tears.
I know that when our Pharaoh dies, he is soon to be 12, I will weep many tears.
But those pictures of Clyde remind all of us that it is in life that it is important to love. Important, almost beyond words, to be kind to others, to offer and receive love, and to treasure the present.
So, yes, we must shed a few tears of the heart yet thereafter we must treasure the memories.
“For if we cry at losing the sun, our tears will hide the light of the stars.”
For reasons that I am still unclear about, yesterday slipped through my fingers before I knew it. That’s the worst mental state for me when I am trying to be creative over a new blog post. So it came around to 4:30pm yesterday and I knew that I was faced with two choices: not post or use something stored as a ‘draft’.
That’s what caused me to look through my draft posts folder and offer you this for today.
The videos are short but nonetheless beautiful.
They are the products of an Australian film company: Riggs Australia.
Here’s a couple of examples of their wonderful filming.
Published on Oct 15, 2012
This 4 metre plus female great white had just bitten Mark’s cage and was circling when he turned on his camera …. at 1.09 he see’s it approaching from behind his cage. He’s been down at 26 metres for over half an hour and is forced to make a decision. Stay on the bottom and run into decompression time or confront it …. Starvation Bay, South Coast Western Australia, October 2011.
Published on Jun 11, 2014
Aerial perspectives of a huge pod of Bottlenose dolphins surfing waves off Esperance Western Australia … Enjoy!
There was an item on the BBC News website yesterday morning that jumped out at me. The BBC headline is my sub-title for today. Here’s how the BBC opened that item:
Actor Johnny Depp has been told he has until Saturday to remove his dogs from Australia or they will be put down.
Depp and his wife Amber Heard are accused of not declaring Yorkshire Terriers Boo and Pistol to customs officials when they flew into Queensland by private jet last month.
Australia has strict animal quarantine laws to prevent importing infections.
Agriculture Minister Barnaby Joyce said he understood the dogs were being sent back to the US.
The dogs were discovered when a picture was posted of them at grooming parlour.
Later on that BBC report mentioned:
An online petition to save the “cute dogs” had received nearly 5,000 signatures by late on Thursday local time in Australia.
“Have a heart Barnaby! Don’t kill these cute puppies,” it appealed.
OK, Mr. Depp was a silly boy but his mistake must not be paid for with the lives of these wonderful dogs.
That petition is over on Change.org and here is the direct link. You will read these details.
There’s just 48 hours before Johnny Depp’s two puppies Boo & Pistol could be euthanised by Australian authorities. Please help save them!
Johnny Depp brought them to Australia with him to shoot the next Pirates of the Caribbean.
But today Agriculture Minister Barnaby Joyce has said that because he didn’t follow particular travel rules that he’ll seize and destroy them by the weekend if they’re not removed from Australia.
This seems so extreme and unnecessary. He shouldn’t kill these cute dogs simply because Depp didn’t follow particular rules.
Help me tell Barnaby Joyce not to kill or remove Johnny Depp’s dogs from Australia!
Have a heart Barnaby! Don’t kill these cute puppies.
Before you read any further please listen to Enya’s mesmerisingly beautiful track whilst reading the lyrics.
One look at love and you may see
It weaves a web over mystery,
All ravelled threads can rend apart
For hope has a place in the lover’s heart.
Hope has a place in a lover’s heart.
Whispering world, a sigh of sighs,
The ebb and the flow of the ocean tides.
One breath, one word may end or may start
A hope in a place of the lover’s heart.
Hope has a place in a lover’s heart.
Look to love you may dream,
And if it should leave then give it wings.
But if such a love is meant to be;
Hope is home, and the heart is free
Under the heavens we journey far,
On roads of life we’re the wanderers,
So let love rise, so let love depart,
Let hope have a place in the lover’s heart.
Hope has a place in a lover’s heart.
Look to love and you may dream,
And if it should leave then give it wings.
But if such a love is meant to be;
Hope is home, and the heart is free.
Hope is home, and the heart is free.
I have this notion in my head that we humans are predisposed to give priority to bad news over good news. I guess it does make sense especially when one reflects on likely times a few centuries back; or more.
However, I am certain that I am not alone in disliking intensely the predominance of ‘alarmist’ news headlines in all forms of media. We neither have broadcast television here at home nor subscribe to a daily newspaper although I do admit to dropping in regularly to the BBC News website.
The other morning I awoke a little before 5am and not wanting to awaken Jeannie decided to listen to some music using my iPod and earphones. I had a couple of Enya albums on the iPod and soon was listening to her album The Memory of Trees. Then up came track seven, Hope Has A Place, sung by Enya, composed by Roma Ryan.
I had forgotten how incredibly beautiful was the track.
Then my mind moved to reflecting on the life I have here at home with Jean and the dogs. There were three dogs sleeping on the bed while the track was playing: Hazel, Sweeny and Pedy.
How the love I receive from the dogs and the love I receive from Jean give me such freedom. Such emotional freedom to be the person I truly want to be. So perfectly expressed in the closing line of the lyrics: Hope is home, and the heart is free.
At this juncture I paused in writing this post, it was a little after 2pm yesterday, grabbed my camera and went into the living room. The two photographs below reinforce my message.
oooo
Sweeny, Pedy and Jeannie – bountiful, unconditional love!
Today’s Prompt: Write a post based on the contrast between two things — whether people, objects, emotions, places, or something else.
Remember those “compare and contrast” essays in composition class, in which you’re forced to create a clunky juxtaposition of two arguments? Just because that particular form was a bore doesn’t mean that opposition has no place in your writing.
Bringing together two different things — from the abstract and the inanimate to the living and breathing — creates a natural source of tension, and conflict drives writing forward. It makes your reader want to continue to the next sentence, to the next page. So, focus on your two starkly different siblings, or your competing love for tacos and macarons, or whether thoughts are more powerful than words, or …… you get the idea.
Today’s twist: write your post in the form of a dialogue. You can create a strong opposition between the two speakers — a lovers’ quarrel or a fierce political debate, for example. Or you could aim to highlight the difference in tone and style between the two different speakers — your call!
Emulating people’s speech in written form takes practice, and creating two distinct voices could help you see (and hear) the different factors that play into the way we speak, from our diction and accent to our vocabulary and (creative?) use of grammar. (We’ll discuss the topic of voice more formally later in the course; for now, take a stab at writing dialogue on your own.)
Today’s task makes writing about dogs look like a piece of cake!
I spent quite some time wondering how to approach this, what to draw upon in terms of my own experiences, what the scene might be. In the end, I chose to write a fictional exchange between me and the landlord, David, of my local pub back in the days of when I lived in Harberton, near Totnes in South Devon. (David and his wife are no longer in residence.)
To help set the scene for you, dear reader, here are two photographs. The first is a view of the pub in the centre of the village of Harberton; population 300 persons.
The second image is of the main bar area inside where this fictional conversation is about to take place. The pub was less than a five-minute walk from my home.
oooo
“Evening David! Golly, looks like I’m first one in this evening. Must stop looking so keen to have a beer at the end of the day!”
Paul swung his backside onto the corner bar stool and lent his right arm on the bar.
“Good evening to you, Paul. Same as usual?”
“As ever, David.”
David reached out his right arm towards the pump handle at the same time as the fingers of his left hand closed around a pint glass. The sound of the mild ale being poured into the glass was a tonic in itself.
“So how’s your week been, Paul?”
“David, don’t even ask. I seem to have spent most of my waking hours wondering what the hell I’m going to do if the election goes the way it appears to be heading.”
“Well I’m sure Ralph will have clear ideas on that one when he comes in”, David remarked as he handed me the brimming glass of ale.
The pub door squeaked open in the same way it had for time immemorial.
David looked up. “Speak of the devil, here’s the man himself!”
“Somebody call my name?”, boomed out Ralph’s voice.
“David was just saying that you would have clear ideas on the election. But first let me get you a pint, Ralph.”
“Thank you, Paul, that’s mighty gentlemanly of you.”
Ralph removed his light raincoat and sat down next to Paul.
David passed across Ralph’s pint of bitter and took the ten-pound note that Paul held in an outstretched hand.
Ralph took a long swig of his beer and set the glass down on the counter. “So how do you think the election is going to turn out?”
Paul, too, took a good mouthful of his beer and looked across to Ralph. “Well if the media are reporting it correctly, it looks like there’s a better than even chance of UKIP holding the balance of power. And if that happens then I can kiss goodbye to my business!”
David held out Paul’s change in his hand.
“Oh come on, Paul, you can’t mean that! UKIP holding the balance of power will mean an end to the antics of the money-grabbing bastards who have got us into the present mess. Surely, that would be good for you!”
“Ralph, I really wish you are right. But seventy-five percent of my revenue comes from the EU countries and UKIP have pledged to hold a referendum on whether Great Britain stays or leaves the European Union.”
“Well I don’t know! Me, I just want the quiet life with me and Betty enjoying the rest of our years free from all the damned interference from bloody bureaucratic arses both sides of the Channel!”
“Ralph, I can understand that, truly I can. But I’m a long way from retirement and if my business fails I’m screwed, screwed big time!”
“Paul, you worry too much – let me get you another pint!”
Paul chuckled, “Ralph, you know how to win me over don’t you!”
“Anyway, Paul”, Ralph continued, “rumour has it that you aren’t even spending Christmas with us in the village.”
David, putting the second two pints of beer on the counter in front of Ralph and Paul, looked up, “What’s this I hear? You deserting us this Christmas?”
“Sorry gents, but it’s looking that way. I’ve been invited to spend Christmas with a couple of Americans I’ve known for years.”
“Well it’s alright for some lucky sods,” boomed Ralph, “I’m lucky if I can afford a trip into Totnes.”
He sipped his second pint. “America! Bloody Yanks!”
“I said I have been invited to spend Christmas with some Americans. Doesn’t necessarily mean it will be in the USA.”
“Come on then, tell us it’s somewhere even fancier!”
“Ralph, I’ve been invited to go to Mexico!”
And so it came to pass!
oooo
Well it was fun to write but I’m not certain that I got anywhere close to what today’s Writing 101 theme was looking for.
I wasn’t sure if WordPress were going to take the week-end off, so to speak, but it does look as though they did.
Thus the last theme idea that was posted from WordPress was on the 9th and was:
Day Five: Be Brief
Today’s Prompt: You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.
Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.
“None of us will ever know the whole story in other words. We can only collect a bag full of shards that each seem perfect.”
Brevity is the goal of this task, although “brief” can mean five words or five-hundred words. You might write a fifty-word story, as writer Vincent Mars publishes on his blog, Boy in the Hat. Or you might tell your tale in precisely one-hundred words, like the folks at 100 Word Story — an approach that forces you to question every word.
For writers who tend to write more, a longer word count may be considered concise, too. At Brevity, writers publish nonfiction of seven-hundred-fifty words or less: there is space to develop a piece, yet a focus on succinctness.
Learning from Dogs 