A beloved person I know had to put her sweet 13 year-old dog to sleep today and I’m thinking of her and of him and the moon. I would never tell anyone this but I like to think that earth’s porch light has enough space for everyone’s grief. Everyone’s I’ll Never Survive This. Everyone’s heartbreak.
The dog that died today was a special dog in The Cupcake household. He was the dog who lived across the way and who, based on his magical calm powers, taught Cooper how to (try) to be a gentleman. You see, Davis was the first big dog who, when Cooper was around him, didn’t send Cooper into a barking ass attack. It was as if Cooper recognized that Davis was his Sensei, his guide, his friend. In fact, on walks with Cooper, Mister Cupcake and I often pulled Cooper aside after a cranky face bark odyssey at another big dog, to whisper “Cooper: that’s your friend. He’s just like Davis.” And this always calmed Cooper down. Davis was Cooper’s best friend. Even though he didn’t see him every day and even though he often forgot Davis’s lessons, he still reacted to his name—the name of his first true friend.
I can only imagine the sadness MY friend is experiencing this evening. This evening, the first evening of a new month in the midst of a very warm heat wave we’ve been having. I only know that it is a wonder, like the all alone moon, how our lives intertwine with each other and how, every creature leaves its mark on unlimited others, longing to feel comforted and calmed, longing to feel loved.
Yours In Intricate Connection,