I loved this thoughtful piece, and the image of your little family as an animal pack. That's what families are, all over the world. Packs. Tribes. We've just put our 21 year old cat to sleep this past week--Ancient and Venerable Stanley the Good--after a long goodbye. We were immersed in the soup of constant worry, waiting to discern when it was the 'right' time.
Your piece on worry made me think of the Bible verse I return to often, which Jesus said in his Sermon on the Mount: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? (Luke 12:25-26). This resonates with me. So often it is not worry that we should be doing, but just what you were doing with your dog: keeping vigil. keeping company. showing up. sharing space with each other.
I can't really beat Paul's response. He said what I was thinking too: I need that bible verse written somewhere I'll have to see it every day. And I'm so sorry about Stanley. What a wonderful thing for all of you, though, that he was gifted such a long life in such a warm, loving pack.
Stanley the Good! May his memory be a blessing. I had a cat make 20 and I still think of her almost every day. Thanks for the Sermon on the Mount quote. I should get that tattooed to my forehead so that I'm reminded of it every day when I shave.
You two are so much more courageous than I can even imagine. When Buda lay on that vet's table, stabilized by struggling to breathe into his flooded lungs, I couldn't bear taking the option of three months of life for him if I gave him shots every day. Three more months of life, of suffering, of pain, of the prospect that he'd be going through these deaths throes again. For you, though, was a positive outcome at the end of it all. Thank goodness for little Santo. So glad he made it through Hell.
It was awful, but his other vitals were good. When my last dog - name of "Elko," by the way - or my cat Jayne were sick, we knew it was terminal, so the hard thing there was knowing when to end it. We can do that for pets and save them a lot of grief. I wish it was easier for people who are terminal to opt out. But that's another rant. This was a question of figure it out. I was with you for every post you put on Buda, who sounds like a remarkable fellow. Thanks, Sue.
Oh, me too. I'm so grateful for this Spring, you wouldn't believe it. Dealing with an animal in pain is the hardest, hardest thing. You did right by your little one, Sue. You gave him peace when he needed it. In the end, that's all we can hope to do.
loved this. your pack. each vulnerable. all loyal to each other. all trusting each other. all loving each other. each doubting themselves. each doing their part to lift each other up when needed. and each not afraid to ask for help, and get it when needed. I'd say that's pretty perfect. Glad the pup's surgery was successful. lucky dog!
Ii was as if I were on the windowsill out side listening through the cracked window on those too warm NYC apt days when the windows was cracked open a bit to let in some cool air. The immediacy and dialogue had a great beat and pithy loving satire
Mr S is a lucky much loved pooch to have caring available and loving humans. You had my attention from the photo and title ,my heart too.
What a beautiful way to put it: "listening through the cracked window." I love that, and I'm so happy it spoke to you, Sebastian. Now that we're all ambulatory, I hope we can see you guys sometime soon (once the green leaves are back.)
That photograph is an incredible blessing, so rich and deep in all ways. Thank you so much for it. It is a great relief when the anxiety and fear lift and they do if one takes the actions needed and find the agency in oneself to keep trying. Alone or together, you cross paths in so many ways, circle, flee, fly, and drive, and little Santo, now painfree for all your efforts and coping, (always complicated) is again putting his feet forward, leading the way. So happy for you. I really missed seeing him the whole time. It was hard not to see him. He's not our dog, but he is loved over here. A precious soul. I mean look at that face. But understood, too. Hope to see him soon. And so good to see you two, and think of you out and about. Thanks for coming over to fix our lamp and just for the nice visit. Love you, C.
I am crazy about that photo too. He is such an intrepid little dude. Thanks so much for the kind words and for being there for us. You guys are part of the pack too. Love, T
What a beautiful exchange! I was a bit of an email/text witness to this terrible time in your lives & my heart ached for all the pain, uncertainty & agita you had to experience. Thank goodness you navigated it together with enormous love & ultimate success. Would not wish the agony of a sick loved one on damn near anybody...I have experienced that myself. Shared love, tasks & worry was a balm. There's incredible grace to go around, the way you three looked out for each other & came out the other side with some laughs, wild empathy & a refurbished digs. That's a miracle of a takeaway. ✌🏼❤️
These exchanges between the two of you while very well-crafted are also really sweet. Thanks for sharing. Helping each other is the most important thing when dealing with worry and stress. And oh, the animal stuff. Been through that many times. I have always felt it to be the highest honor to tend to my sick and ailing companion creatures.
I loved this thoughtful piece, and the image of your little family as an animal pack. That's what families are, all over the world. Packs. Tribes. We've just put our 21 year old cat to sleep this past week--Ancient and Venerable Stanley the Good--after a long goodbye. We were immersed in the soup of constant worry, waiting to discern when it was the 'right' time.
Your piece on worry made me think of the Bible verse I return to often, which Jesus said in his Sermon on the Mount: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? (Luke 12:25-26). This resonates with me. So often it is not worry that we should be doing, but just what you were doing with your dog: keeping vigil. keeping company. showing up. sharing space with each other.
I can't really beat Paul's response. He said what I was thinking too: I need that bible verse written somewhere I'll have to see it every day. And I'm so sorry about Stanley. What a wonderful thing for all of you, though, that he was gifted such a long life in such a warm, loving pack.
Stanley the Good! May his memory be a blessing. I had a cat make 20 and I still think of her almost every day. Thanks for the Sermon on the Mount quote. I should get that tattooed to my forehead so that I'm reminded of it every day when I shave.
You two are so much more courageous than I can even imagine. When Buda lay on that vet's table, stabilized by struggling to breathe into his flooded lungs, I couldn't bear taking the option of three months of life for him if I gave him shots every day. Three more months of life, of suffering, of pain, of the prospect that he'd be going through these deaths throes again. For you, though, was a positive outcome at the end of it all. Thank goodness for little Santo. So glad he made it through Hell.
It was awful, but his other vitals were good. When my last dog - name of "Elko," by the way - or my cat Jayne were sick, we knew it was terminal, so the hard thing there was knowing when to end it. We can do that for pets and save them a lot of grief. I wish it was easier for people who are terminal to opt out. But that's another rant. This was a question of figure it out. I was with you for every post you put on Buda, who sounds like a remarkable fellow. Thanks, Sue.
Thank you, Paul. I knew you'd understand.
Oh, me too. I'm so grateful for this Spring, you wouldn't believe it. Dealing with an animal in pain is the hardest, hardest thing. You did right by your little one, Sue. You gave him peace when he needed it. In the end, that's all we can hope to do.
loved this. your pack. each vulnerable. all loyal to each other. all trusting each other. all loving each other. each doubting themselves. each doing their part to lift each other up when needed. and each not afraid to ask for help, and get it when needed. I'd say that's pretty perfect. Glad the pup's surgery was successful. lucky dog!
Thanks, Tabby. I'm hoping we get near your neck of the woods soon - all three of us!
all of you more than welcome!!!
Thanks so much, Tabby! A lucky dog, and a couple of lucky humans too. I'm so glad it spoke to you.
Superbly crafted
Ii was as if I were on the windowsill out side listening through the cracked window on those too warm NYC apt days when the windows was cracked open a bit to let in some cool air. The immediacy and dialogue had a great beat and pithy loving satire
Mr S is a lucky much loved pooch to have caring available and loving humans. You had my attention from the photo and title ,my heart too.
What a beautiful way to put it: "listening through the cracked window." I love that, and I'm so happy it spoke to you, Sebastian. Now that we're all ambulatory, I hope we can see you guys sometime soon (once the green leaves are back.)
Thanks, Sebastian. High praise coming from you. Received the love and sending as much back in your direction. xox
That photograph is an incredible blessing, so rich and deep in all ways. Thank you so much for it. It is a great relief when the anxiety and fear lift and they do if one takes the actions needed and find the agency in oneself to keep trying. Alone or together, you cross paths in so many ways, circle, flee, fly, and drive, and little Santo, now painfree for all your efforts and coping, (always complicated) is again putting his feet forward, leading the way. So happy for you. I really missed seeing him the whole time. It was hard not to see him. He's not our dog, but he is loved over here. A precious soul. I mean look at that face. But understood, too. Hope to see him soon. And so good to see you two, and think of you out and about. Thanks for coming over to fix our lamp and just for the nice visit. Love you, C.
I am crazy about that photo too. He is such an intrepid little dude. Thanks so much for the kind words and for being there for us. You guys are part of the pack too. Love, T
We love you, Connie. He is your nephew, Mr. Santo, and it means the world to me.
What a beautiful exchange! I was a bit of an email/text witness to this terrible time in your lives & my heart ached for all the pain, uncertainty & agita you had to experience. Thank goodness you navigated it together with enormous love & ultimate success. Would not wish the agony of a sick loved one on damn near anybody...I have experienced that myself. Shared love, tasks & worry was a balm. There's incredible grace to go around, the way you three looked out for each other & came out the other side with some laughs, wild empathy & a refurbished digs. That's a miracle of a takeaway. ✌🏼❤️
Thanks so much, Ellen, both for the sweet words and also for being there this winter. So glad we have you as a friend.
Thanks, El, for the kind words and for being a steadfast and compassionate friend. xox
These exchanges between the two of you while very well-crafted are also really sweet. Thanks for sharing. Helping each other is the most important thing when dealing with worry and stress. And oh, the animal stuff. Been through that many times. I have always felt it to be the highest honor to tend to my sick and ailing companion creatures.
Thanks so much, Andrew. And you said it: the highest honor. It really is.
Thanks Andrew. I agree on no higher calling. We have also really enjoyed playing with the email exchanges.
🙏🙏🙏