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

Carnival of the Dogs

For those of you unfamiliar with blog carnivals, they are collections of blog entries on certain subjects from various participants, generally published on a relatively regular basis. I frequently submit posts from my other blog to Grand Rounds, a medical blog carnival, but last month I submitted a post to Carnival of the Dogs and was just informed that the current version of that carnival is dedicated to none other than Sparkey. You can click here to see the entry, graced with Sparkey's smiling photo. His fame is apparently spreading.

---Keith

A Gift

Just last week, we received a sympathy card in the mail. We've received many, but this one was from an organization in a nearby city that is committed to rescuing homeless cats. It seems that the home-visiting veterinarian who compassionately assisted Sparkey in leaving his tired body made a donation to this organization in Sparkey's honor, and they were writing to inform us of this loving act. We were very moved, to say the least, that she would go to such a length, and we are so very grateful that this donation was made to honor our Sparkey's gentle life.

Money never really entered into the scenario with the vet on that day when she came to do what we and Sparkey needed her to do, even as we dreaded the moment that he would close his eyes forever. I handed her a blank signed check and told her there was no need for further discussion---we were to just focus on him. She complied, and the gift we receive in return is her generosity of spirit in making this donation.

Sparkey gave us so many gifts, but it seems that the gifts just keep on coming. He must be having a cosmic chuckle that I'm even surprised at that outcome. "How else would you have it be?" he asks. "My life is the gift that keeps on giving."



---Keith

Autumn Arrives

Although Sparkey was beautiful during any season, I especially loved the Autumn when his orange coat would often match or blend in with the leaves on the ground. He seemed to revel in each season---naturally---exalting in the snows of Winter, the crisp leaves of Autumn, the verdant newness of Spring, the cauldron of Summer. He loved it all because he was so present. Present and always accounted for.

Today marks three weeks since his passing, and though the ache is less, it is still present, as is his spirit. I was talking to someone at a party last night, and she showed me laminated photos from her wallet of her dog who died several years ago. Another person shared with me that she could cry every day---if she allowed herself to---about her dog that died three years ago. These notions normalize my grief, and also bring home the fact that I will always miss Sparkey's body and physical presence, but I can still be thankful for his thirteen-year visit and the joy he brought to so many.

I still miss him so.

---Keith

Signs of Sparkey

There are so many physical signs of Sparkey around the house. How they tug at the heart strings and bring visceral memories to life.

When I would give Sparks his IV, he would sometimes bleed from the puncture site, and if I wasn't diligent about putting pressure on the site after removing the large needle from his skin, he would inevitably shake (like he was coming out of a pond) and diluted blood would spray in all directions. There are some spots in the house where spatters of reddish pink still adorn the walls, and we are both reluctant to remove the stains.

So many windows and sliding glass doors carry smudges from Sparkey's big nose. These smudges are memories of how he would press himself against the glass in our absence, getting as close to the outdoors as possible. Lucky for him, he had a lovely screened-in porch for six or seven months of the year, plus a doggie door and fenced-in yard. Not bad digs, really, but the yard was small. He always seemed to hate the backyard and fenced-in feeling. One of our housemates who helped build the fence named it "The Sparkitentiary".

The little foam mattress where Sparkey breathed his last breaths is still on the porch in the exact place where it was when we held him and set him free. It is covered with a burgundy flannel sheet which we have been hesitating to wash, his essence still palpable there. Tina often sits or lays on the spot where he died, and we too spend some time there. We're getting ready to let that one go, but it is a slow decision to be made.

The house is much less covered with fur now that Sparkey is gone. Tina sheds very little, and the dust bunnies were certainly more of a Sparkey origin, to be sure. As we do late summer cleaning, those reminders of his earthly presence slowly disappear into the vacuum, and eventually his fur will no longer sit in little corners of the house and under furniture. As we let go more and more, the physical reminders will also slowly diminish, and other memories will suffice.

This is yet another step along the road. Many people might not understand the visceral quality of this type of loss, but those who have lost an animal companion will "get it" immediately. Unconditional love is an amazing gift, and Sparkey gave us that gift for thirteen years. Our unconditional love for him continues unabated, and these remembrances are just part and parcel of the journey.

---Keith

Memories and Blessings

Sorry that the posts are so few and far between this week, but life is what happens when you're busy making other plans, as John Lennon once wisely sang.

More than two weeks after Sparkey having physically left us, his essence still abides in the house, and we feel him among us in different ways. The candle still burns on his grave every night, and we still extinguish the flame before retiring to bed for the night.

I still so want to see him beside the bed in the morning. I would just hang my arm off of the bed and almost inevitably find his ribs to stroke, that resonant sound reverberating as I patted his bony flank. I'm sure Tina misses him, but she does seem to be doing OK, just without canine company to chat with as the neighborhood noises come and go throughout the day. I even miss the nightly ritual of the IV, and the late evening walks we would take together, Mary and Tina huddled in the house or on the porch. How many hours I spent sitting in the street with him, or on the side of the road in the dirt or the grass. Whenever I had the time to spare, I would let him lead the way and guide the trajectory of our parambulations, even when we would just sit for an hour on the sidewalk, watching the world go by his only apparent agenda.

The pain and emptiness of not having him on walks around the neighborhood has calmed. The ache is less, although still there, and at times my heart just cries for him, even if my eyes are dry. I think of the many hours I spent over the years just laying on the floor next to that loving creature, nose to nose, breathing with him and communing in the most simple way. Just being together---that was the sweetness.

My conversations with Sparkey in the last week have been many, mostly having to do with memories, as well as my blessings going out to him as he explores his new world, his new etheric body. I have recounted the states we visited, the cities, the towns, the parks, the lakes, the ponds, the trails and mountains. How many homes we visited, hotels we slept in, places we camped. I visited with him in my mind all of the stores downtown where we would go to get treats and love and water. I talked to him about the grand re-opening of our local collective bookstore where he was a frequent visitor. The party was in 2005. It was crowded, a DJ spinning Latin CDs, food galore, and Sparkey on the dance-floor with us, among the people, a true party animal.

We had so many gatherings and parties in our several homes over the years, and he was always right there with us. Wild dance parties, Sparkey nipping at people's butts as they danced to the music. Healing circles and meditations where he knew just what to do. Dinner parties when scraps were like manna from heaven. And simple gatherings of friends where he could relax and be a dog among a pack, content to listen to the cadences and timbre of our voices, always alert for movement towards shoes, the door, and finally a walk.

Memories come and go so quickly, and I will continue to write them down for you to also share. He was a true member of my soul family---not just a dog, but a piece of who I am. I miss him so, but thank him for all he gave me.

Thank you for spending some time with us here. And please do come by again.

---Keith