September 15th 2007 2:08 pm
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I am just amazed at the continued support I receive from everyone in this community. Amazed. I've received gifts. I've received donations in Seva's name. I've received beautiful cards. And most importantly, I've received such unbelievably kind sentiments during a difficult time.
We're doing as well as we can. It gets a little easier every day. Some days you think you're through the worst of it, then something as small as seeing a Monarch butterfly reduces you to tears. It's just the process. We're looking forward to the day when the memory of Seva feels less like a gaping wound, and more like the gift it should be.
Seva's having too much fun with all of her new and old friends up there to think about updating her diary. You're all in her hearts, though. I'm certain of it.
Thank you again, very much. I'm going to try to answer each one of your sweet sentiments individually. It may take me a decade, but I'll do it! Seva promised to help me, but right now she's too busy kicking up her Prada heels with Honey.
September 10th 2007 6:05 pm
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My husband and I would like to thank each and every one of you for the incredibly kind sentiments in the form of rosettes, paw-mails, poems, digital art, stars, personal diary entries, forums, friend requests and strolls. You have literally carried me through this so far. Every tiny tribute to Seva fills me with joy. It's overwhelming. It's so hard to wallow in my own pity when I am inundated with all of this celebratory love for Seva. It forces me to focus completely on her. And if I can accomplish that, I can't possibly be sad.
I still feel Seva with me. I truely do. When other loved ones in my life have gone, I have simply felt their absence; a hollow emptiness. With Seva, I feel a magnificent, deeper presence. Although physically separated, I feel connected.
As soon as Seva was gone, and her body was transported to the funeral parlor (It's true! We have a pet funeral home here!), my husband and I had an overwhelming urge to take Finlay for a hike along the Minnesota river valley. In fact, this would be the third consectutive hike we'd be taking throughout the difficult weekend. During the first hike, among much other wildlife, we witnessed a large owl who, from the middle of the forest, flew right out in the open, perched with his head turned nearly behind him, and simply stared at us screaching. Amazing, we thought. You just don't see that everyday. The next day, during our second hike, a hummingbird came out of nowhere, again in the middle of deep woods, and literally hovered in front of my face at eye level. I thought he was going to land on me. He simply stared at my face for three full seconds, then flew away. The third day, and the day of Seva's death, we saw a tiny baby snapping turtle, no bigger than a silver dollar; a beautiful family of swans complete with tiny babies; and then a fawn ran right out beside our path. A little orange fawn with white polka dots. (I'm pretty sure Finlay wanted to eat her, but we won't hold that against him...)
Tiny babies everywhere. In the Fall season. To me and my husband these sightings were gifts- pure and simple. Messages, from Mother Nature herself, or perhaps straight from Seva.
And now, to feel Seva's presence I need only find my way to the forest for a direct connection; her silky hair the soft breeze, her warm breath the sunshine, the sparkling crisp water her ebullient joy.
Now if I could only find a substitute for the smell of her tiny temple where I kissed her 1000 times a day...
Seva's not gone. Far from it. I feel her spirit stronger today than I have in years. With that, and the immense spirit of friendship offered to us from across the country, and the world, how could I possibly be sad?
Thank you again. From the bottom of our hearts. You have no idea what it means to us.
And Seva will write again. I can feel it.
September 9th 2007 5:58 am
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This morning we released Seva from the dreary confinement of her ailing body and allowed her to return to the brilliant universe whence she came. Our hearts are broken, but we sense the joy in her resurrected freedom and are trying very hard to stay focused on her. Not ourselves.
Wherever you are this day, if you should find the sun shines a little brighter, or the thunder rumbles a little deeper; if the wind blows a little warmer or the stars blaze a little hotter.... think of Seva. She's free. She's alive. She's finding her way home.
She's never run faster. She's never run harder. And her heart has never been so full of joy. She's earned this.
God bless you Seva. For giving me love, life, and the meaning of spirit, nobility and dignity. For allowing me to gaze through your eyes, into your ancient soul. For carrying me through, though it must have been such a burden, for so many years. I pale in comparison, but am left stronger for having shared your life with you. I cry for myself. Not for you, dear Seva.
Run, Baby Girl, run. Pass the horizon. Don't look back.
I'll be okay.
September 5th 2007 8:15 am
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Seva: "Will my HUGE bed fit in my suitcase, Mommy?"
Mommy: "Not with all of that Prada footwear."
Seva: "Of utmost importance is that Honey see that I really did get a HUGE bed after she left."
Mommy: "Honey knows you got the bed Seva. She's been watching you from Beyond. Frankly, I don't think she cares. The beds up there are far superior."
Seva startles and cautiously surveys the room. "Is Honey watching me now?" She whispers.
Mommy: "Im certain of it."
Seva: "Creepy... Perhaps I'll leave the bed for Finlay then." She unpacks the bed.
Mommy: "WHAT are you doing with the hammer, Seva?"
Seva: "Daisy says Igwe' is bothering her up there. Being bossy again. Cracking him on the head is all that he understands."
Mommy: "He's a tiny pomeranian! You will most definitely NOT hit Igwe' with a hammer! Once you get up there you'll feel no animosity for Igwe'. You'll be less prone to moody fits of rage."
Seva: "Is that supposed to be some kind of Buddha babble? Have you forgotten how he'd leap at me in ambush, hanging off my jugular like an Amazon piranha? I'm supposed to just let that slide for all eternity? "
Mommy: "You frightened him! You were so much larger!"
Seva: "I intend to frighten him some more. With this hammer."
Mommy: "Never mind. Bring the hammer. I can guarantee you won't use it."
Seva: Carefully scanning the interior of her suitcase, "Will Finknottle fit in here?"
Mommy: "Finknottle is not coming with you. She's but a baby. She's got many years before she is to join you."
Seva: "Will she look over Finlay when I'm gone? Can she be his Ninja Master now?"
Mommy: "I think she'd agree to that. We'll see what she says."
Seva: "Should I save my thigh-high Prada stiletto boots for Cricket? She's no longer in training, you know. She'll be the official Seva Diva once I'm gone. You don't think Izzie will try to wear them do you?"
Mommy: "Cricket doesn't need your boots. She's much smaller than you. She'll have to develop her own style. She was born with an innate diva-osity. She does not require your hand-me-downs. And I'm sure Izzie has no interest in your boots."
Seva: "I'm going to have to tell Dexter that I will not hold it against him if he motorcycles with flewsies when I'm gone. I know platinum blond Salukis are his weakness, but he always did have a tendency to sniff around those red-headed Irish Setter bitches. Honestly. How bourgeois..." Seva stamps her dainty foot, once more, for old-time's sake.
"And tell Tavar, Winnie, Elvis, Coffee, and Malibu that I expect them to be on their best behavior while I'm gone. They are Diplomats of Sight and can never stray from the ideal: perfection or nothing. Perfection or nothing! So far, they are right on track."
Mommy: "Wow. I'll, uh..., inform them of your expectations. I'm sure they strive for nothing more than to please you."
Seva: "I think I've had enough packing for today, Mommy. I'm tired."
Mommy: "How about we just rest here together in the sun."
Seva: "Sounds good, Mommy. Sounds good."
September 4th 2007 7:01 am
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Mommy here. I just wanted you all to know how much your kind words have meant to us. I intend to respond to each of your pawmails, rosettes, and stars personally. With every word of support and encouragement I receive, with every tear inducing poem, this moment in our lives becomes more clear. We've just reached the gate. It's time. I know that in my heart. The fog has lifted.
Two years ago I entered Seva into Dogster. It came at a difficult time as she had just been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of cancer on her foot. The location rendered it impossible to remove. She had weeks to live. Possibly months if we were lucky. My husband and I returned home from the emergency hospital, collapsed on the couch together and cried ourselves to exhaustion. We decided where we'd spread her ashes and resolved to enjoy every last minute with her to the fullest.
Dogster was a means of celebrating all that was so over the top spectacular in Seva. I thought it would be a therapeutic outlet for me; to shout out loud how wonderful my dog was to all who would listen. To document, in writing, how much I loved her; how utterly devoted I was to her throughout the short period of time I had left with her. Seva's voice in her diary, was/is - of course- Seva's voice entirely. If you were to meet her in person y0u'd understand.
The tumor never spread. In fact, it disappeared.
The past two years have been such a gift. A gift that, I am sure, she granted us. Now it's time to reciprocate. A graceful, painfree exit is the greatest gift we can offer her. I'm ready to do that for her now. After a few agonizing weeks of coming to the painful realization that Seva is indeed a mortal creature and that her time with us is near an end, I've reached a peaceful understanding. It's the right time.
17 years ago I lost my mother. As I watched her agonizing battle with cancer coming to a horrific conclusion, I lamented the fact that we could offer our dogs a peaceful way out, but not our human loved ones. It seemed so unfair to watch their suffering.
Seva will be spared that. For all that they offer us throughout their short lives, for all their sacrifices, they deserve this reward.
Seva will write again in the next couple of days. She will likely enter her next realm within one week. She'll say goodbye before she goes. She loves you.
As do I.
September 1st 2007 6:25 pm
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Sorry for the absence. I've been busy sustaining Mommy the best I can. One moment she feels peaceful with it, the next- panic stricken. Like she's drowning and there's nothing to hold onto. The subject is my death.
You didn't think I'd live forever, did you? My Darlings? There are those in need of rule elsewhere, after all. I'm nearly 15 years old. I can't continue for much longer. As much as I try... for Mommy's sake. I was put here to care for her. When do I know she's strong enough for me to move on?
When does she realize I can't hold her up forever. It's time for her to go it alone.
I've been reciting a Zen teaching to Mommy, hoping it will help. She believes in Zen. It usually helps her. She finds little comfort in anything right now. The teaching goes something like this:
Has a dog Buddha-nature?
This is the most serious question of all.
Because if you say Yes, or No-
You've lost your own Buddha-nature.
I live in the now. Unhindered by constructs. I am so superior to Mommy in this regard, crippled by worry, doubt, anxiety, fear, and grief.
Which brings us to the second quote which mommy has been trying very hard to absorb. Actually it is less a quote, more of a question posed to her by Petra Mertens, Finlay's behaviorist. Dr. Mertens was discussing Seva at one point. She said to Mommy,
"A dog lives in the moment. They are beautiful in that way. What are Seva's moments made of?"
Her point was, if my moments are more negative than positive, then Mommy is using me as a crutch. And that is selfish.
I continue to send her messages. Her ability to sweep them under the carpet is weakening. She had arranged for a friend to euthanize me today. She cancelled. She hasn't even told Daddy this. She can't talk about it. To verbalize it, renders it real. And the reality is, Mommy really wonders how she is going to be able to handle this.
My reality, I have to admit, is not golden at this time of my life. Tiny glitters of silliness and happiness are buried within the mire of weakness, pain, frustration, anxiety, and boredom. I can't go for hikes with them. I can't even walk around the block with them. I can't sit in the yard without being riddled with anxiety. I can't get up in the morning without their assistance. Motorcycle rides with Dexter, hot-tubbin' with Jake, cavorting with my German Shepherd body guards, DETH missions...impossible. This is no life for a Saluki. Mommy knows that.
I'm not gone yet, my Darlings. But you need to understand that I am tired. I can't continue for much longer. You'll have a new Queen. I'm sure of it.
And Mommy will soon come to the understanding that I'm not leaving her. I could never leave her. I will always be attached to her; permeated within her.
Just as you are within me.
August 12th 2007 8:13 pm
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Mommy got a new camera for her birthday. It's more complicated than the last. Sharpening her photography skills, we find ourselves being hounded non-stop with flashing lights in our eyes, mommy crawling, slithering, standing on her head. Anything for the one great shot. We're calling her Stalk-erazzi Mommy. Unsettling. The most disappointing facet of this development is that Mommy seems to be particularly unskilled with this piece of equipment. That can only mean more stalking, more flashing, more posing, more high squeeky voices and snapping fingers above my head. By the look of her work, this could continue for a long long time. Mommy says she aspires to be as good as Rajah's Mommy, Casey, with her photography. I'm pretty sure if that ever comes to fruition, I'll be long dead. Perhaps we all will. In the meanwhile, there are classes for her to take, and manuals to read, and practice. More practice. I think I'll contact PETA. This can't be right. The good news is that Mommy intends to put the cats on Catster now. With the three cats, me and Finlay, at least the unpleasantry of being her subject is diluted by 5. Oh Dog. Here she comes again.
MY PORTFOLIO IS FULL, MOMMY! JUST BACK THE (censored) OFF! I'M IN THE SANCTITY OF MY HOME HERE!
Has she no decency? Is she rotten on the inside?
Seems even a Saluki has her limit for the limelight. I'm going to start wearing sunglasses, a baseball cap, and a hoody. That's what the other A-listers do to thwart their camera assaults.
GET AWAY FROM ME! SCAT, DEVIL'S SEED!
August 11th 2007 12:54 pm
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I just have a very quick question. Does anydog else feel completely creeped out when you happen upon a page with an image of a Dogster's head on a human body? The human body generally dressed or positioned somewhat provocatively? Blah. Is it just me? Perhaps in a past life I was stalked by a dog-headed woman in stilletos and a ball gown? I'm open to any possibility. All I know is that those shots cause an aversion response in me similar to my response to an accidental poot in my bed overnight. That's all I'm sayin'.
August 8th 2007 6:13 am
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Mommy implored me to allow her the opportunity to unload something off her chest, via my blog. As I am a good and just Queen, I allowed her this one request. I myself have no opinion on this matter one way or another. She, on the other hand, apparently does, as witnessed by the flying spittle, increased blood pressure, and reddish hue to her face.
What could mommy need so desperately to blab about? Could it be global warming? Widespread poverty across the "richest" country in the world? Deforestation across the globe? No. Not today. Actually this has more to do with Barry Bonds hitting number 756 last night in San Francisco.
Are Mommy and I avid baseball fans? Not really. We find the Twins scrappy enough and are eager to watch them when they're hot, which would most definitely not include this year. In fact, we haven't watched a baseball game in months. Mommy says the heart of this matter is not about baseball. It's about what's fair and just. This steroid "controversy" makes her crazy.
Mommy says people can take that asterisk and shove it up their (CENSORED! DOGSTER IS A FAMILY SITE!). The whole controversy is rife with hypocrisy and she finds it over the top ludicrous. Steroids would not give a man the ability to hit home run after home run. Yes, they could allow for additional power. But so what. A home run hit 200 yards into the bay, or a home run barely reaching the second row of fans, is still a home run. Nobody argues that steroids gives a person improved hand/eye coordination, a skill that few humans have mastered on the level of Barry Bonds.
Bud Selig is such a "noble" man. So noble in fact that he makes Mommy want to barf. He's not concerned about integrity, or rules. He's concerned about making the almighty Green. Don't be fooled. Bud Selig turned the other cheek when the steroid controversy was beginning to unfold. When Sammy Sosa and Mark McGuire were slugging it out between steroid injections, they were celebrated on a daily basis. Everyone in baseball knew they were using steroids. But baseball needed a boost. Sales were down, attitudes soured after the recent strike. When steroids put money in his pocket, Bud Selig had no qualms with them. No asterisks suggested. Just a new car, or perhaps a remodeled mansion.
It has been postulated that 50-70% of all professional baseball players in the past 20 years use, or have used steroids at one time. Why aren't they all right there in the running with Barry Bonds? If steroids give you a magical edge to hitting home runs, why does he have no competition?
This isn't about sports, this isn't about baseball, this isn't about Barry Bonds. This rant is about what is right. It's about people actually THINKING before they come to ridiculous conclusions. It's about our obligation to ignore the media when they're having a feeding frenzy, rather than follow it like moths to the campfire.
How much of this controversy really has to do with a few children in man suits feeling scorned by a rude, boorish baseball player? "He's not nice to us!",
they whine, as they write another article about how he "cheats".
Barry Bonds deserves the accolades. Just like Hank Aaron deserved his when he received death threats for daring to surpass Babe Ruth's honor 30-something years ago. All the rest? It's just blather. Mindless blather.
WHEW! Mommy feels much better. Thank you.
August 5th 2007 3:46 pm
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Two more very dear families are in need of support right now. Please stop by the pages of
Ahmal and Nitro.
I think I'll run out of tears.
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