Ruby

9/29/24

This last stretch of days have been rung through a sharp toothed grinder. Chewed up and spit out again and again. My system is just now starting to find some relief from so much intensity, and I think this month has had four planetary retrogrades, so apparently I’m in good “grumpany” with the rest of the world. (Yes, that’s a made up word, and fitting.) For one thing, we’re all watching as this shit show of a political race winds us up and divides us more and more with it’s puppet show antics.

But this is about a smaller circus train. It’s about Ruby the dog who has been on this ride along with me, minus the political melodrama we both have mostly been avoiding. Having said that, she took the driver’s seat and roped me right out of bed and onto the floor beside her at 3 am three nights ago with an ongoing drama of her own. Ruby is a 14.5-year-old 30 pound goldendoodle with osteoarthritis and because of this she’s in a fair amount of pain much of the time. That night seemed worse than the many nights preceding it, and my weary mind, dulled by lack of sleep, gave way to my emotional body, stirred up by the same. I determined in a dark moment that she needed to be put to rest and relieved of her pain.

 And so, the following day allotted to tax drudgery was instead spent as a battle between the (not so) solidly functioning, executive parts of my brain, and the more watery heart centered bits. Mix solids and water together and what do you get?

That’s right.

Mush.

Trying to focus on taxes while responding to calls from vets about in-home euthanasia created a grief laden, conflicted and highly sensitized situation, and my love relationship suffered. (But that comes with it’s own set of exclamatory (re)marks on a fresh sheet of paper.) Back to the Rubster saga.

That night we took a late night walk through the neighborhood and she practically pulled my arm socket out with her enthusiasm. Okay, I’m exaggerating a bit, but the ending thought was how could I possibly put down a dog with that much energy? The next day I decided I needed to focus more time on her rhythms and create more adaptations for her failing eye sight and hearing, not to mention her increasing neurological impairment. Perhaps it’s partly dementia that moved her to achieve the nickname ‘Circles’, as she walks dozen of them every day.

Anyway, I put electronic candles in the hallway and down the stairs that have been covered with slip resistant pads so she can see her way outside at night- or when she just needs to pace because of those ouchy hips. These amendments seemed to help as she confidently made it out of my room without bonking her head, and down the stairs without slipping and doing a ‘fuck it all’ leap of faith to the bottom. She’s done that a couple times now and it’s a small miracle she hasn’t broken anything. Upping the pain relief is a must. Well timed and distanced walks are imperative. She’s my Noodle Boodle and has been a steadfast and integral part of the family. She deserves me slowing down for her now, as she’s kept pace with us all these years.

And so we proceed, ailing geriatric dog moving to the central channel, getting loved up more than ever, with a continual stream of more attuned soul whisperings to check in on her. Doing my best to trim the stickers and dreds from her paws and face as she sleeps. Handling with as much grace and surrender as I can muster, the slow decline of this beloved pet, after the quick departure of Cocoa the Cat earlier this summer. Moving forward with her best interests in mind, interpreting her signals and alleviating her discomfort until it bears down too intensely, and she signals to me the time has come.

But that hasn’t happened yet. And one thing is sure: the spirited soul of a joyful pup graced her for more than 12 years. The last couple have been more difficult. Thanks Ruby, for reminding me about presence, not skipping over the uncomfy parts, not racing off to the next thing. Because while you’ve slowed down, you know only Love wins this race. Your soft brown eyes may not see as well as they once did, but they’re more soulful than ever, and a deep awareness shines through the grayness that clouds your vision. May we all see through our own veneers despite life circumstances, personal beliefs and convictions, as we wake up to the reality of our interconnection.