The Risk of Loving & the Rainbow Bridge

I heard or read somewhere in recent weeks that the risk of loving is loss. Until today, this didn’t really “hit” me.

Today, hearing that a friend’s beloved pet was sent over the rainbow bridge, it is hitting me. And I’m remembering the deep grief that my family has experienced with the loss of a beloved pet. Sam, Nouk, Kelly, Tasha, Lille, Max … all critters who lived with me and were such a big part of my family at one time or another. Who wagged their tail or sat on my lap or went for a walk in the woods with me. Fur family.

My Fur Babies & My Guy

My Fur Babies & My Guy

Loving is being willing to take a risk. A risk that we can give a piece of ourselves to another being and be embraced and accepted as we are. It’s humbling and makes us very vulnerable when we let a person or a pet have a piece of our heart. The honeymoon phase of love is that new, wondrous, can’t get enough of it which then grows, if we’re lucky, to the place where we can trust and depend on the love to be there for us when we need it. And when we don’t need it. And in return, we show up for them, too. Protection from danger, a comfort when we don’t feel well, sharing in life’s experience both good and not so good.

Pets are so special in that they ask very little in return for the love they lavish on us. They don’t judge us when we don’t feel like taking a shower or getting out of bed. They still love us when we get angry at them because WE forgot to get them outside before they made a mistake. They’re happy to see us when we get home, greeting us at the door, tails wagging. They’re excited about the same old kibble every time we give it to them (in our house, twice daily). They become an essential part of our days and nights.

So, when a pet dies, we experience a deep sense of loss. Perhaps a deeper loss than when we lose human friends. Because who else but our pet can truly love unconditionally? And we can feel it.

Lola, Max and Boq

Lola, Max and Boq

I swore, after Lille died, that I’d never have another dog. It was too heartbreaking. But years later, Lola & Boq entered my life and I’ve made them promise that they’ll never die. And while, on some level, I know that’s not possible, it makes me feel better for now. We’ve started to heal from the loss of Max and have invited Monk to live with us in our family. I’m sure I’ll make him promise, too. For today, he’s lucky he’s cute … because he’s so much puppy in a big brown body!

I’ve shed a few tears today for Pokey and for all the humans who loved him. I know he’s romping free of pain on the other side of the rainbow bridge. While the people who loved him mourn his loss with aching hearts.

The risk of love is loss. It’s hitting me today.

Gone knitting.

Rainbow-Bridge-Poem

In Consideration of the Wooly Bear

I was walking some dog poop up the driveway in the poop shovel this morning and practically tripped over this guy (or gal!). Well, I didn’t exactly “trip” over it, but I nearly stepped on it and since I was carrying a shovel full of … well, you know … I tried hard NOT to step on it and nearly dumped the “load” (so to speak) all over the driveway.

I was thinking, though, these guys have a difficult life, don’t they? As I was standing over it with my camera (and every time my camera made a noise, the caterpillar stopped moving … but it never curled itself into a ball) I was watching it navigate the grass and rocks and other detritus that is part of the Maine landscape and was realizing that it’s kind of similar to me climbing a mountain but I don’t have to worry about somebody stepping on me or picking me up to play with me! What a brave creature to come out of its bed daily and climb mountains (even though by my eyes, they’re pint-sized mountains), taking the risk of being stepped on by who-knows-what because just about anything’s bigger than he/she is!

My next thought was about people and, more specifically, me. I always considered myself NOT to be a risk-taker. I think I’m changing that perception, though. I’ve left an unhappy and unfulfilling marriage, a comfortable home and community to live somewhere new where nothing was certain (and it’s still not on some days). That was very brave! I’m learning and re-learning daily and hitting bumps in the road on occasion – sometimes taking those bumps in stride and sometimes, not so much! I’m like the Wooly Bear!

I guess the moral of the story, if there is one, is that I’m stretching just like the Wooly Bear caterpillar, and while I am so in awe of how brave he/she is, I could take a little time to consider (and be proud of) how brave I am, too! In this big adventure called life, I’m stretching and growing and it’s all good.

Gone knitting!