Remembering Sparkey's Soulful Eyes

---Keith

I Miss Sparkey

I miss Sparkey today. Plain and simple, I just miss him, his pointy little head, his soulful eyes. Nothing to do, nothing to say. It just is.

---Keith

Five Months

Today is Sparkey's five-month anniversary of being released from his body. I mark this second day of February by sending love to him, thanking him for his visits, and admitting that there are days when I miss him so much I would give anything to pat his pointy little head.

Yes, death is only a change and the spirit knows no bounds, but the loss of those soulful eyes, that regal gait, the swishing tail, and yes, the bad breath, is at times still so stinging.

His body lies out there in our yard, becoming one with the earth, returning to from whence it came. I just miss his physical warmth and loyal proximity, and that's a simple reality of being a survivor.

I miss my boy, and I send him my love.

---Keith

Visitations

A few nights ago, Mary was upstairs and I was getting ready to carry Tina up and get ready for bed (Tina had knee surgery a month ago and still can't climb stairs). When I got to the top of the stairs and was about to put Tina down, I could have sworn I heard Sparkey's pitter-patter of paws on the wood floor of the dining room on the first floor. Suddenly, Mary came out of the bedroom without my having uttered a word and said, "I think I heard Sparkey downstairs!" We looked at each other and then yelled, "Hi, Sparkey, we love you!"

Again, yesterday, I was walking Tina around the block before Mary came home. When we got back to the house, Tina went straight to Sparkey's grave, pulling me with all her might. (She generally shows no interest in this part of the yard, usually having much greater interest in getting back inside to the warmth and waiting treats.) Once she was next to the grave, she sat down and would not move, staring fixedly at the grave. I stroked her and acknowledged that, yes, this is where Sparkey's body was buried. She then turned around and sat absolutely still, watching a spot near the house very intently.

A few moments later, I saw Mary's car rounding the corner of our street, so Tina and I made our way towards the driveway which is not within sight of our house but lies down a wooded path between our neighbor's homes. As we came down the path, Mary got out of her car and exclaimed that she could have sworn that she saw Sparkey trotting behind us. I then told her about Tina's behavior at the grave and we both looked at one another and smiled.

---Keith

Four Months

Today is four months since Sparkey left us and got his wings. Yesterday, January 1st, was the birthday we chose for him, since we didn't really know when he was born. I'm pretty sure he was born in December of 1992, though, based on when Mary found him and how old the vet thought he was.

The ache for his company is not as strong as it was at first, but I still miss him. He always seemed to be there. He was great fun at the holidays, with shiny and colorful bows stuck to his head, or those humiliating doggie antlers.

Tina does seem lonely sometimes, especially when we come home from a long day at work. Even though a teenage girl from the neighborhood spends an hour with her each afternoon at three, there's no substitute for family. She just doesn't have anyone to talk to when we're gone, but we just don't want another dog---not yet.

I know alot of people feel deeply connected on a soul level with their pets, and I am one of those people. Sparkey was much more than a dog. He was so tuned in to the human world. I still feel his connection to me even now, and I thank him for his loyal service to our family.

Is it morbid to continue to write about him and mourn his passing? Maybe, but it sure is therapeutic, and a nice way to keep his memory alive. Four months apart in the face of almost fourteen years together is such a comparatively brief time. I miss him, and feel his love still.

Four months, and counting.

---Keith

Kisses

These photos were taken the day of Sparkey's Living Memorial, circa April, 2006.

The Final Days--Some Images

Here are some photos from Sparkey's final full day of life which have been sitting unseen in our camera for three months. Mostly, I've been unwilling to download the photos onto our hard drive, knowing that within that batch of photos---over 100---are some shots of Sparkey at rest in his grave, wrapped in a cloth that has been in our family for more than a decade. If any of you would like to see those photos which are, in fact, quite sweet, please email us privately and we will forward them to you. Due to the tender and personal nature of death, we will not publish them here.

A very sweet Sparkey taking his last ride in the car to town.


A sleepy moment by the pond......



The ubiquitous smile.......


A kiss for Momma.....


Being carried by Daddy.....

Of ribs and booties......



Looking towards the future.......



---Keith

Three Months

Three months and counting. Sparkey's body continues to become one with the earth, his grave just feet from our house, the rhododendrons still embracing the unseasonable warmth of early December. Today is also the five-year anniversary of the death of our dear friend Woody, one of Sparkey's best buddies. On my other blog I wrote:

Sparkey and Woody were quite the pair, often barrelling together through the woods, returning to the house bleeding, limping, panting, and grinning from ear to ear. They seemed like brothers then, with matching red and golden fur, both unconditionally loving and loved. We miss them both so much, and hope they can frolic together in the grasses of some far-off heaven that is actually closer to us than it seems.

We do miss those two, but also feel them so close to us still. Sparkey's loving spirit is easy to access, and I send him love on this and every day.

---Keith

Two Months

Today marks two months since Sparkey left his body and this sweet and troubled planet. He is still missed, of course, but the pain has ebbed for now.

Mary said today that our job is to be happy for him in his new circumstance, and rejoice for his freedom from illness and disability. Our other job is to be happy ourselves, the greatest gift we could give him. Lastly, but most important, is the happy job of loving Tina like never before. And that is just so easy......

We love you, Spark, and bless you now and forever.

---Keith

Sparkey's Twin

I was perusing some blogs that I like today and returned to Arse Poetica, one of my faves. In a recent post, the canine-loving author posted a photo of one of her dogs, the close-up of her face being the spitting image of Sparkey, so much so that it made me gasp. Please go see this photo here and tell me what you think. Wow.

---Keith

Pangs

I so much wanted to see Sparkey's beautiful orange and white face when I came home today. Tina's greeting was all tail-wagging affection, and she always makes her delight in our long-awaited arrival thoroughly apparent. Still, there was a little pang in my heart when I came in the door and only one tail and set of canine eyes were there to greet me. After a hard day, coming home and realizing yet again that Sparkey is gone left me with a little feeling of emptiness, a void which I will fill with gratitude for his life and affection for Tina, our grey-coated love.

---Keith

Saying Goodbye Again and Again

Last night, we watched In America, a sweet film about an Irish couple who come to New York City with their two school-age daughters in order to escape the memories of their young son who died from cancer. Towards the end of the film, as the father comes to terms with the loss and finally is able to say goodbye to the lost child, Mary and I both tearfully said goodbye to Sparkey and took another turn towards accepting that he really is gone. Just another page in the book of Sparkey's life, his death, and his lingering presence which blesses us daily.

Another Autumnal Portrait

One Year Ago

Here's a photo of our Golden Boy one year ago, climbing our favorite small local mountain. When Sparks was a new puppyish member of our family long ago, we lived at the base of this mountain and he learned to hike off-leash in these very woods. He quickly became the kind of dog who would calmly wait for us at each fork in the path to make sure we didn't get lost. He always seemed at his happy best in the woods.....


---Keith

Arriving Home

We just arrived home from our first overnight trip away from Tina since Sparkey died. As always, trusty house-sitters stayed here with her, allowing her to be in her own environment with people who she knows well. Luckily for her and us (and previously for Sparkey) our dogs have never stayed in a kennel, always spending time at home with loving dog-sitters, even when we were gone for weeks at a time. Still, it's a historical marker which cannot be ignored.

We came home to a happy and well-adjusted girl, apparently well fed and seemingly not starving for human contact, although she was down in the basement on a beautiful late afternoon when we arrived home---a curious finding. Nonetheless, she's our best girl and we're all together again.

Now for a cozy fall evening, home at last, a candle burning on Sparkey's autumnal resting place.

A tribe of three, together again.

missing

i pause to honor keith's faithful and beautiful writing to this blog on top of his other one. mostly though, i acknowledge his continued loyatly to sparkey. keith has quietly been honoring and nurturing the parts of him that will always be true to his love for and with "sparkey d. dog". from his nightly ritual of lighting the candle and sitting in silence at the edge of the woods in sparkey's spot both in life and after death, keith has kept vigil. from his bike, in the car, at work, in our bed, keith has kept vigil in his heart and i thank him for his devotion. i am probably more deeply sorry for his loss because i am closest to it, and because it is a loss that i share deeply.

i won't go into what a pretty awful month it has been since sparkey died, which understates how our lives have been. Suffice it to say that i have struggled and grieved more than i imagined i would---even though i could barely imagine life without Sparkey's simple and reliable, gentle and comforting presence. i miss that dog so much, and even though there has been somewhat of a pall over our home as we have experienced much sadness of late, we remember to give and receive plenty of tender lovin' care with our girl Tina. She is doing better than all of us combined--or so it seems. and this is a great comfort in a time of needing just that. so thanks to Tina too!

in gratitude for my amazing housemates, lifemates and soulmates!

ahoy to you, maties!

all my love,

mary

A Full Month

Here we are, the 2nd of October, marking a full month since Sparkey's passing. I note that my recovery is slow, and I am definitely experiencing some level of anhedonia on a daily basis. It's time to put more energy into healing and moving on, not just holding on.

Out at Sparkey's grave at sunset, I had a talk with him. I told him that my nightly candle-lighting may become something I begin to do when I am moved to do so, not merely as a habit or ritual. I will continue to honor him by trying to heal, to move forward, to allow myself to embrace joy again, even in his absence. I know that he would want me to be joyful---as I believe he is now, himself---and my ability to continue to embrace life is a testament to all he taught me during our thirteen years together. He was the embodiment of being in the present, and now my task at hand is to do the same, not dwelling in the past and longing for what is no more. This is a difficult lesson.

My grieving for Sparkey has opened other wounds, other longings, and the time has come to welcome it all, embrace it all, and find a way to allow those losses to integrate into my life, into my heart, and transform into joy again.

The operative question is, how?

---Keith

28 Days (A work in progress)

28 days gone by. Four whole weeks without our boy.
The sheet upon which he died is now on its way to the laundry. We've held on to it long enough.
His body lies in the earth.
His beat-up old boots, held together with duct tape, sit on a shelf with his collar and tags.
And his body lies in the earth as his spirit soars.

---Keith

Balm for the Soul

Having Sparkey's grave right outside our door, I'm clearly seeing for the first time the beauty and emotional balm which a well-tended grave provides. In my personal cosmology, the body is a shell in which the spirit briefly travels, and although I realize that Sparkey's body is not truly "him", there is great comfort in knowing that his body, which we knew and loved so well, is returning to its organic source directly under our gaze, on land which he himself knew and loved.

Sitting out there tonight after sundown, lighting a candle, I found it easy to talk to him. It's simply a place to connect, a place where I can feel his spirit, knowing that, on some level, he feels my love and beams his love back to me. I feel even more connected with him when we're out walking or biking in his beloved fields, and Mary felt his presence the other day as we wheeled along the pond in the late afternoon sun, Tina racing behind us.

This autumn, I plan to climb a few small local mountains that Sparkey loved, to sit and contemplate this land with which he was enthralled, and to relive some of those moments of joy we experienced side by side in nature. He loved the snow, he seemed to enjoy the slowness of the heat and the coolness of a splash in the pond or the creek, although he admittedly seemed repulsed by getting wet in the rain, and would often sit at the door and refuse to go out in anything more than a sprinkle. When he did get wet, however, there was nothing he seemed to like better than a vigorous rub-down with a nice dry towel. I would thread the towel under his belly and "floss" his undercarriage, and he would stand so still as I did so. He seemed to love these post-walk ablutions, and it was a joy to rub him down and then watch him roll on the carpet in satisfied delight.

Now, the times when he rolled in rotting mushrooms or got a face full of porcupine quills were not such fun, but they were part and parcel of life with a dog, especially a dog as spirited as old Bob. How we loved so many things about him, like a benign uncle who just always seemed to be there when you needed him, but rarely asked for much in return. He was beloved by many,and even our friends who are not such "dog people" admit that he captured their hearts and filled them with joy with just a glance or a turn of the head. His specialness was contagious---and unavoidable.

So, his body slowly melts back into the earth, returning to the soil from which it sprang. The bulbs which blossom in the spring after the thawing of the long winter will be a testament to his enduring beauty, and to our unending gratitude for his kind soul's visit to our home, and our hearts.

---Keith

A Touch of Tina