Large Fierce Mammal

“If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.” ~ Will Rogers

We were saddened to learn yesterday morning that our Dear and Esteemed Friend Julian, who you will know to be a regular commenter here and of whom I have previously written, is mourning the death of his beloved Dog Molly who went to sleep yesterday for the last time. Tonight’s Dark Sentiment will be a departure from scheduled programming as the LFM Clan join him in his time of grief.

I never had the honour of meeting Molly, but I have lost, and will again lose, treasured Dogs. I don’t believe I flatter myself when I say I know how he feels tonight, and will for a while. Many of you reading this know what I mean.

“If you’ve ever lost someone who mattered, regardless of their species, you have experienced grief. If you haven’t so far, then you eventually will, because all relationships in Nature come with an expiry date. Neither good nor evil, it’s the way of things, and grief is the process Nature has given to some of her creatures (not only humans) to permit adaptation to getting on with living.” ~ Dark Sentiments 2012 – Day 7: Grief

No small amount of what I’ve published here from the beginning has been inspired, in one way or another, by Death, in all its complexions and variety. My studies of Death will continue until I get one of my own, and along the way so far I have come to some conclusions that have brought both the inevitability of ultimate endings, and the coming to terms with their aftermath, into focus for my own life and experience. Julian doesn’t need me to define the enormity of his loss or his grief in the wake of it, but in the possibility that he may find need to reach for a hand in the darkness, I make this offering of a few of my own observations both from within and without the state we Humans have named Grief.

I once wrote at another time of loss —

“Any Leader of Dogs worthy of the title understands and accepts the responsibilities that come with fully embracing the beautiful thing that is a relationship with a Dog, and knows going in that the relationship comes with an expiry date – one that, with all likelihood, will lead to their being dragged kicking and screaming into being the one who must decide when to end the life of somebody they only want to love and protect forever.

“This is the one terribly painful part of Leadership, for it tears at the heart and leaves a searing hole. Those who willingly walk this path in the joyful company of a Dog, who strive to lead wisely and well, and do not flinch from the final responsibility to lead their charge out of this life when the time comes, are far finer and stronger creatures than he who speaks the words, “It’s just a dog”, for that one will never enjoy aid, comfort, nor friendship from us. The lesson that life is too short and precious to waste is hard won, but as hard as it is to endure, to have your calming voice be the last thing your trusty comrade ever hears is a gift that carries power beyond measure.”

Let me close with this poem. Inspired by the loss of Bodhi Carbone, and informed by Dogs too numerous to mention, it speaks to Grief not as a process to merely move through and come to terms with, but rather as an act of absorption.

Good night sweet Molly.

Floodplains

By LFM

Beloved soul, enshrined in Life,
Mother, Father, Husband, Wife,
Sister, brother, infant, child,
Released in death unto the wild.

Such power is no tiny thing
To bundle up and blindly fling,
So whither for this loos-ed ghost?
Why, to the ones it loves the most!

Thence cleaving to those left behind,
The spirit would become entwined
With kindred souls still snugly donned,
In fragments measured to the bond.

And this is where the pain is felt,
Proportioned to the measure dealt.
As heavy rain on forest loam,
It takes a while to soak it home.

But be no rigid vessel pray!
No fragile thing of glass or clay!
As floodplains flood and green again,
Resist thee not the spirit’s yen.

Who rides the storm and bears the din
Will find the room to let it in,
Beloved spirit, bound to be
An ever cherished part of thee.

So those bequeathed must bear the sting
That such a gift as this will bring,
There is no succor nor release,
But storm tossed waves from pain to peace.