Merry Christmas!

1 month today...and I miss him terribly.

I feel pretty sad and slightly agitated today.  It's weird because yesterday I had a great day and felt really upbeat. I actually thought and talked a lot about Desi yesterday but it was all in a very happy sense.  I shared the story of Desi's last day with a friend in a way that didn't drain me emotionally.

I guess because I told the story in a third person sense without attaching to the facts as I often do when I tell the story.  But today is different.

Today it is exactly one month since the day Desi died.  It feels like a marker in one sense that I made it 30 days and haven't fallen apart.  But it's still almost as shocking a reality to accept as the day it happened.  In a way, it may be even more shocking because that day I was wavering from reality to the feeling of being in a scene in a movie or a play.   Today I feel stone cold sober in the reality of Desi's death.

I found the video above on my phone.  Desi used to do this thing that I liked to call "Crazy Dog" or "Happy Dog".  He would get on his back and just sort of wriggle back and forth and paw at the air while he made these happy sounds.  I loved to watch him do this because I could tell he was feeling happy and playful.  I think this was the last time I actually saw him doing this and he only did it briefly. I only caught a part of it but it's enough to make me wonder how he so rapidly declined from October 5th to November 23rd.

There is still guilt over not letting him die naturally.  The only thing gives me any sort of relief is the fact that he just couldn't even stand up anymore.  It was a huge struggle and on the last day he tried so many times and just passed out from exhaustion on his pillow.  He couldn't stand long enough to eat his food or drink his water.  If I didn't put egg into his food he wouldn't have eaten it at all.  How long could I keep allowing him to go on in that condition?  I had to hold the bowl right in front of him so that he could eat and drink.  When I took him outside he was also not able to stand or walk for very long periods of time.  On that last day he was out of his mind.  He didn't know what he wanted.  He kept trying to walk to somewhere.  But where?  Did he know it was his time and was instinctively trying to find a place to go to lie down and die.  I don't know.  I do know that there was nothing I could do to placate his agitated, frustrated and completely uncomfortable state that day.  He seemed to be in his dementia and his mind seemed to be confused as to where he was and what he was doing.

It makes me sick to think about how it all came down to that state of mental dementia and his body failing on him in spite of his will.

I was thinking to myself - what would I do for myself?  A part of me thinks I would allow myself to suffer through the pain right until my moment of death because that is the natural course of things.  Jesus suffered on his last day of life.  I guess that thought still pervades in terms of what the right thing is to do for a human.  I don't really know it's all still pretty confusing to me as I try to understand and separate what I personally, truly believe and what I have been taught or have had drilled into me by my dogmatic, unwavering, irrational, black and white thinking,  Jehovah's Witness mother.

One thing is absolutely sure - I LOVED THAT DOG MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD!!!  If there was ANY WAY that I could have kept him longer without having to see him struggle like that and be so uncomfortable I CERTAINLY WOULD HAVE.  Yes I did hasten death through the act of of Euthanasia.  Euthanasia in short means "painless death" or "good death".  It is also referred to as "mercy killing" which doesn't seem nearly as nice as "painless" or "good" death.  But the word "mercy" itself is defined as "an act of kindness, compassion, or favor".

One of the reasons listed in wikipedia for animal euthanasia is:

• Old age – Deterioration to loss of major bodily functions. Severe impairment of the quality of life.

So if I wear to think about it rationally I would say that because of Desi's age he was suffering from a deterioration to loss of major bodily functions such as standing, walking, urinating, eating and drinking without assistance.  All of these physical factors combined with his mental dementia and  deterioration was causing him severe agitation, confusion and anguish.  He wasn't having a good, easy or happy life and he was unable to be placated in any way.  The combination of physical and mental deterioration was causing a severe impairment to the quality of his life.  And the only merciful solution was to brink on a painless or good death through euthanasia.

Rationally I can understand that I made the absolute correct decision at the absolute correct time and held on until the struggle become unbearable for him and for me.

Morally is where I still have trouble with my decision.  

I think I would come to the same conclusion for any animal or person that was struggling and suffering like Desi was.  But could I do that for myself.  Or ask to have that done to me if the pain and struggle was unbearable.  I'm not sure that I could because of that deeply religious moral belief that I do not have the right to decide who lives and dies and when that happens and that only God or my Higher Power or the Universe has that right.

But when I am truly connected to my Higher Power, the Universe and God, I can hear and feel and know for certain in my heart that the right thing to do was let him say goodbye to me as painful as it was and still is for me to say goodbye to him.

And that is still where I am at today.  And my brain keeps going back and forth with this constant battle and struggle over the guilt that I am not the one that should get to choose and I did versus my rational belief that I listened to the Universe and God's will and my Higher Power and I did what I my obligation and responsibility was to do as the caretaker for my beloved little animal.

No matter how much or how long I struggle and battle within myself the inevitable was going to happen for Desi and it is going to happen for me and for every being that is on this earth.  It is a matter of when.  I did chose the how because he was in such severe implacable distress.

The fact that I played a role in a student film where my own mental pain and anguish was tormenting me until I got a visit from an Angel who was my dog and let me know that I helped her in the time she needed me the most.  And she thanked me for that.

It is I suppose another way to rationalize away the guilt, pain and sorrow we feel over the loss and the decision we make for our animals to hasten the process.

I don't think I'll ever come to a full understanding or resolution to my feelings. Hopefully, they will be easier to bear as time goes on and I will feel more at peace with myself in the fact that Desi really did live out a full and happy life.  Even in the last few years with the loss of his eye and his virtual blindness he was able to enjoy many things.  But he wasn't enjoying anything at all in the last few weeks and that last day all he felt was agitation.  I took care of him with love by eliminating his distress and yes the euphemism applies nicely - putting him to sleep.

U2 - KITE

Back in 2000, I was playing Peter in Edward Albee's play "The Zoo Story" in LA - Hollywood specifically. The Director liked to play a song for the cast before rehearsal to relax us, transport us and sort of prepare us to drop our own human issues and struggles, let go and play our roles.

He would have us find a comfortable spot on the stage or somewhere in the theatre to lie down on our backs. Then he turned off the lights and had us close our eyes and just listen to the music and the lyrics of a song he had chosen for that particular rehearsal.

I was going through a really difficult and rocky relationship that I knew was coming to an end but was having so much difficulty letting go.  One day at rehearsal he played "Kite" by U2 and I couldn't stop weeping softly, quietly and almost silently to myself.

I was weeping in part because I was breaking through my own denial with the realization that I needed to let go. But also, in part, because the lyrics changed my perspective on the process of letting go.

Instead of thinking that I was the one that needed to let go, the lyrics suggested and allowed me put the focus on the other person letting me go. This was extremely powerful for me because it helped me to feel less vulnerable in my loss, less like I was the one that needed to let go and more like I was giving permission for someone to let go of me.

So now I'm thinking of how hard it is for me to let go of Desi and realizing again that, maybe, I need to give Desi permission to let go of me . . . I'm not really sure. But maybe...

Bono sings in the lyrics of this song: "I want you to know that you don't need me anymore . . . you don't need anyone or anything at all".  To me, that sort of shifts the focus and equalizes the process of letting go somehow.

Songs and plays are really poems set to music and meter so the poetry of the lyrics combined with the music and Bono's voice in this live version fuse together to relay the experience of letting go in a poetic way that allows each listener to have their own unique perspective and experience.

Bono introduces this song with these words:

"This song's about letting go of somebody you don't wanna let go of - it could be a lover, it could be a father, it could be a child, it could be a friend, I don't know. This is 'Kite' . . ."


Something is about to give
I can feel it coming
I think I know what it means

I'm not afraid to die
I'm not afraid to live
And when I'm flat on my back
I hope to feel like I did

And hardness, it sets in
You need some protection, the thinner the skin

I want you to know
That you don't need me anymore
I want you to know
You don't need anyone or anything at all

Who's to say where the wind will take you?
Who's to say what it is will break you?
I don't know which way the wind will blow
Who's to know when the time has come around?
Don't wanna see you cry
I know that this is not goodbye

In summer, I can taste the salty sea
There's a kite blowing out of control on a breeze
I wonder what's gonna happen to you
You wonder what has happened to me

I'm a man
I'm not a child
A man who sees
The shadow behind your eyes

Who's to say where the wind will take you?
Who's to say what it is will break you?
I don't know where the wind will blow
Who's to know when the time has come around?
I don't wanna see you cry
I know that this is not goodbye

Did I waste it?
Not so much I couldn't taste it
Life should be fragrant
Rooftop to the basement

The last of the rock stars
When hip-hop drove the big cars
In the time when new media
Was the big idea
That was the big idea

Desi dog of Hamilton Heights

Desi dog of Hamilton Heights

I am so relieved that I was able to download this shot of Desi dog.  It's been my profile pic for Hamilton House on Foursquare since I took it.  I don't know what happened to the original.

There are so many things I want to say about Desi and our time together over the past 14 years.  I don't know where to start.

I was inspired to start keeping this blog after reading Jon Katz's 10,000th blog post on Bedlamfarm.com today:

Day Of Rest: Boundaries Of Grief. When The Soul Is Seared

Desi died the day before Thanksgiving, Wednesday, November 23, 2011.  It was the worst day of my adult life.  Everything since then has been life after Desi.

Grieving is not something I'm comfortable with because of the depth of my own personal sensitivity.  I am far more sensitive than anyone I've ever met with the exception of my sisters.

I have never felt the kind of grief I am feeling right now over Desi's death.  The loss is completely overwhelming.  It comes in waves and it often feels as if all the wind has been sucked out of me and I've been knocked off my feet. 

All the expressions I've ever heard about grief are absolutely applicable. The feeling of "puking my guts out" is probably the one I identify with most.

In the weeks leading up to his death I was experiencing the strangest feeling of physical nausea and dizziness.  This visceral feeling continues to this day.  I have never experienced this type of complete and total disorientation before in my life and frightens me beyond words.  It's a feeling of vertigo combined with a sense that I am going to puke my guts out.  Sometimes my vision becomes so blurred that I start to think it's just a part of the aging process.  But I honestly think it's much more profound than that.  I think it's a reaction to extreme stress and anxiety.  I have been in this state of distress for many, many months now.  SO has Desi.  It was as if his emotional and mental distress combined with the loss of his physical abilities felt as if they were my own emotional, mental and physical distress.

In part, this loss taps into all the feelings of abandonment I have from childhood.  But truthfully, my relationship with Desi has been the longest and most intensely close relationship I have experienced in my life.

There are feelings of shame and embarrassment in that admission because Desi was just a dog.  Just a little Boston Terrier.  Not a person.  But that's why I was able to let myself get so close.  My relationships with many people have been such a huge disappointment to me in general.  For the most part I have closed myself off from human relationships and shut myself off by retreating within.

It's not that I believe I will never have a human relationship that is close.  It's just that there are so many limitations that we as human beings have in relationships.  It's the deception.  It's the agenda.  It's the betrayal.  Perhaps I have just been unfortunate in my relationships with human beings.  Perhaps I am the one that is limited.  Or, perhaps I just have to accept that the human/human bond is not and can never be the same or as strong as the human/animal bond.

Again, I feel a bit embarrassed and ashamed to admit that to myself - let alone write it in a blog online.  But the truth is that Desi has always been here for me.  He knew everything about me.  I could be my complete and true self with him which is something I am never able to be with most people.  There are a few people I can be myself with but again, I feel like there is a price to pay for being exactly who you are around people.  They hold it against you.  They will throw things back in your face when they are angry.  Or they will become trite and jokingly say something publicly which you have shared with them in confidence because THEY don't think it's such a big deal.

Desi NEVER betrayed my confidences, he was always there, he was always my friend on my worst days and on my best days.  He taught me how to be responsible, how to grow up, how to be brave, how to be regimented and stay on schedule, how to enjoy taking a walk, how to be social with other people and animals, how to see beyond my own small-world and self-obsessed thinking, how to give without conditions, how to receive without the expectation that I have to give something back, I could go on and and and on about the lessons Desi taught me.  But for now I will stop here.

I can only handle so much of the grief and then have to shut it off, lock it down, hide it from myself so that it won't kill me.  Because the truth is - if I really allowed myself to fully go there I wouldn't want to be here anymore.  I would want to be wherever Desi is just not on this planet without him.

20/20/20 cardio - done!

20/20/20 cardio - done!

Blaze your own trail!

"So dance, dance, like it's the last, last night of your life . . ."

The whole secret to existence is to have no fear. ~Buddha
EASY FOR U 2 SAY BIG BUDDHA;)

Sitting at the Genius Bar for over 2 hours now. Should I worry about becoming an appleholic????

Everyone downtown is dressed in Santa outfits - what's going on?