Letting the Wisdom of the woof and the breath lead the way….
I sit alone at my desk for the first time in 23 years without a beloved dog person by my side. Processing the huge space he has left behind. My most recent companion William was not just any dog, he felt like a spirit teacher and was a magnet for anyone and everyone. Also know as the Iona Polar bear he morphed from a rust-coloured retriever to an almost pure white pyrenees looking dog with huge brown seal like eyes. Over nearly 10 years we created a bond, an intuitive way of communicating with each other, although rehomed at 4 years old he was extraordinary from the very beginning. The most gentle soul who provided an opportunity to learn from a zen master, but playful and mischievous in equal measure. We have walked, played, relaxed and breathed together every step of the way.
Into eldership
During the last year I have watched him move into eldership with grace, letting me know what he wanted at every turn. Once he became deaf, he was like a shadow and we have barely been out of each other’s company. He had the ability to know I had left the room even though he seemed to be asleep. Looking back now I can see he was gradually preparing me for his departure, one I knew was on its way but was always in denial of the actual event.
Then last week after an amazing week of walks to each of his favourite beaches, he had swum and run with joy on Sunday afternoon and then on Monday morning he awoke and I sensed that something was not quite right…nothing immediately obvious but he just slept all day just getting up in the evening once to go outside. From that point on he refused all food and took water under duress. He was very clearly saying no thanks I’m done! No struggle just a continued relaxed and peaceful sleep. The vet found nothing obvious and said to give him a couple of days… I fully felt in my heart the realisation that this might be it.
The responsibility of holding the life of another being in your hand….William was in great physical condition from the outside, a mass of silk and velvet, a fuffy long double coat, fit and strong…but something had clearly broken in his neurological system. How long could he go without food…how long should I let this continue? We decided that if nothing had changed in 2 days we would help him to go. Catching myself holding my breath and sometimes over breathing I sat by him as we have done many time grooming and stroking his luxurious coat, I felt my breath calm.
The more I watched him breathe the more I realised that there was no stress in his nervous system. Just deeps regular breaths and relaxed body. No worry just a surrendering to the moment. Thursday and still no change and no pain or struggle just a being and falling into the moment. I decided that if that’s the way he was leading, I would follow. I spent the whole day in the bedroom with him lying on the floor, either breathing with him, reading or listening to plays and books.
I reached out to the breathing community and joined a co-working space and then was invited to be in a workshop with permission just to be there. This was just so supportive feeling that I had that loving human connection as I wanted to stay as present as I could with Mr Woof. To embody his energy and presence. To fill my senses with the touch of his fur, hear his blissful noises and breaths as he received touch in favourite spots behind ears and over his heart, looking into his knowing and wise eyes. The tapping paw if I happened to stop. I think he was wanting to drink in these moments as much as I did. Breathing in every second. If I needed to release emotion I left the room and allowed that as I wanted to be the one to hold the container for him as he has always done for me.
Just surrendering with his every breath
This is such a lesson, he wasn’t worrying or being distracted by the next thing or the future this was about flowing in the now. Just surrendering with his every breath. This continued until the next afternoon awaiting the vet to enable his transition. She was extraordinary in her compassion and beingness and I am in awe of her, no hurry or rush even though this was a 4 hour return journey for her so that he could be at home. This was the gift we could offer. Holding him close as he took his final exhale the end of a magnificent and fully loved life…..he had completed the circle. Ours though still has to continue and without him by our side.
We planted him with our previous dog pack near to his favourite beach to swim and run to his hearts content. Curled up in his blanket he looked like he was sleeping peacefully. One last touch, prayers of appreciation for his life and love, deep grieving breaths we howled with the wind and rain that was driving in a fitting counterpoint to our own feelings. We blessed him with Uisge Beatha – the water of life. (more commonly known as whisky) and took a dram ourselves. Free in spirit and forever in our hearts.
Where’s Wullie?
The last two days has passed very slowly, wanting to remain present and allow the grief to be felt and breathed through…taking pleasure in everyday things but not wanting to be too distracted or busy. Feeling the emptiness in our home and garden, taking favourite walks and noticing him there, each place is embued with memory that cannot by avoided….that first morning walk, looking back un-consciously to play our favourite game of ‘Where’s Wullie?’ against the sand that matched his coat. The realisation of how a part of my brain that was always connected with him, no longer has a job to do but keep giving me messages anyway. Better get back I’ve been away a while, dinner time, walk time or being connected time, better just check where he is as I get out of bed to avoid treading on him…and so much more. Seeing him in a periphery but it’s a rug or a towel on the floor….the mind plays tricks.
This will all get easier in time I know but the pain is physical almost unbearable. So I now say to myself be like Wullie…..be in the moment, come back again and again to the breath as this is what bring me back to connection.
