Here and There

The interactions between the living and those passed beyond is interesting to me. The times I see it most often are with our long line of the cats and dogs that have shared our lives. The recent example was with our dog Luigi, who entered our house as #3 dog to grande dame Sally and bridge dog Harry. Luigi and Sally had a special bond: Sally would bark and bark at Luigi, who would cock his head back and forth as he listened. Then he would talk back to her with modulated whines. Sally loved that Luigi respected her without kowtowing.

When Sally passed on three years ago, Luigi stopped talking.

Luigi had seizures all his life, generally a major one each week, possibly multiples. Little seizures would ripple through his body regularly. His senses came and went. He was often blind, though sometimes could see. His big Spinone Italiano nose didn't work sometimes. His hearing would come and go. But he was a spunky dude: fall down seven, stand up eight, though often with help.

We just put Luigi down. His seizures were getting worse. In the last two weeks, he had only hours between seizures, three major ones on his last day.

With all the seizuring at the end, he was very blind and a bit addled. Yet instead of walking broad-legged as a blind dog would do, Luigi single-tracked, like his beloved Tibetan Mastiff Sally. In his last days, he looked the spitting image of Sally as he moved toward me: head low, single-tracking, with a determined look.

I have no doubt Sally helped Luigi cross over. She's been here through so much of his dying process.

"Want to know your future life? Look at your present actions."

Go toward the bright light, Luigi. Feel the unconditional love. I know you'll have a great next life.