Am I Okay?

Someone with a semi automatic gunned down Lady Gaga’s dog walker (he’s said to be recovering at Cedar Sinai) and steals her two French Bulldogs off the street.  The artist is offering half a million for the dogs’ safe return. I’m not sure what that says about the dog walker, but it certainly speaks to the attachment we have to our fur crew members or hairless pack family as the case may be for some of us addicted to nudes.

Animals can often be our allies, our confidants and our best therapy if not also our teachers in times when we need sage advice that only the wisdom of the wild can teach us. But because of our close attachments it can also be unfortunate reciprocity, as we saddle upon them our insecurities, our conditioned fears or our rage. Indeed my pups often sidle up to me when I’m on the floor waiting out a flare. They’ve come to know the hum of the blood pressure cuff, the beep of the microwave for hot rice packs (or bags of ice depending on the flavor of the flare of the day) and they KNOW that look in my eyes as they dart around trying to escape my persistent pain and land anywhere but inside the storm that is my body in the moment.

So when I noticed Bitz coughing the other day and that it seemed to be going on for a little longer than I thought “normal”, I turned to the redneck and said causally, without looking up from my laptop … is Bitz okay she seems to be coughing?  Just then we both glanced down towards the end of the bed where she was standing and caught her eyes as wide as quarters looking back at us with abject fear.  AM I NOT OKAY?!?! She seemed to silently ask us.  Then she started shaking and locked on to my husband’s face for reassurance that everything was alright.  Because for Bitz, it doesn’t take much to frighten her.  Indeed, I think sometimes her insistance that the redneck come to my aid when I’m waiting out a flare, isn’t because she wants ME to get better, but that she has become concerned that whatever it is that I have MIGHT be CONTAGIOUS and she doesn’t want to get it herself!

I enjoy a good anthropomorphic shaggy dog story, I do.  What I do know is that statistically I seem to have had dogs that had unusual attachment issues, separation anxiety and abnormal fears .. for a dog. And if I didn’t at least accept SOME responsibility for breaking them how could I ever accept the blame for passing on all of the broken pieces of my DNA and damage to my beautiful children. But ultimately that’s what each of us do.  We make a ripple in the pond and all those who pass through our presence feel the wake of our rawness. Whether they get permanently wet may have more to do with how each of us cybernetically steer our boat. But the fingerprint of stormy weather at high sea certainly leaves a lasting memory on the don’t-mind-me conditioned egoic storyline.

For Bitz that means she looks to us for reassurance. Indeed it wasn’t enough for the redneck to tell her she was fine.  She continued to look over to me, as I was still typing away on my laptop until I actually opened my mouth and said the words into existence.  YOU ARE FINE BITZY! And she settled right down, and we laughed.

But sometimes the jokes and digs have tender little places in the iris of our cellular memories.  My eldest often jokes when I come into a room unannounced … “Am I in trouble?!” she says.  Which of course, she never is.  But years of conditioned consequences of having an erratic parent — that would be me — who was abusive, sharp-tongued and vituperating can’t help but leave a mark on our sense of self. To this day I have to work diligently to do better .. and better still.

Because whether we say it or not out loud or to our sangha through memes in fleeting IG stories each of us are looking to verify and validate that we are in fact OKAY.  Even Bitzy Bitz.

We realized just how important that was to Bitz, non too soon.  As not more than a week after our fun over her over anxious exhibiting behavior she did in fact become ill. Critically ill.  We thought in all honesty, and with just cause, that she wasn’t going to make it. It reminded me of when Dalai died. She was taken too soon and by all accounts her eyes were telling me she did not want to go. But there was nothing I could do to save her. We so didn’t want this sudden and unexpected illness to take Bitz from us.  As the streetwise sage said afterwards, I couldn’t bare to loose my dog not right after loosing Sony.  I just couldn’t do it. 

I could see it in his eyes, as Bitz was throwing up every hour she would look to him for comfort and reassurance and he would look to me to tell him that she was going to be okay. He wrapped her up in blankets and a dog bed to make a Covid office call to our vet who usually comes to the house.  But she was too ill this time and we knew she needed tests and special procedures that he would have at the office. She couldn’t even stand up, poor pup. I was surprised they let him take her home that night. But he knows us and he knows Bitz.  He was certain we’d be able to provide her with palliative care as we watched her symptoms and waited for the tests to come back and give us a sense of what we were up against.

For the next week, our perpetual puppy grew sicker and weaker. The injections he gave her stopped the constant vomiting, but she was unable to eat anything at all. We spent a full week giving her boiled chicken slurry with an oral syringe.  Around the clock, every 2-3 hours.  Just a few millimeters at a time.  Enough to sustain her and keep her hydrated.  All signs pointed to a serious bout of pancreatitis.  We kept in contact with the vet every couple of days by phone.  We set benchmarks for any sign of improvement as there was still concerns that she may have additional complications. We kept a light on in the bedroom for a week and a half. We slept in shifts on the BAD nights.  But frankly they were all BAD because we were so worried about Bitz.

Occasionally I’d loose it and cry when no one was looking. My kids reminded me that I needed to be strong and say positive things, especially for my husband who was nearly immobilized with grief and worry. For a multigen family of 10 we take great pride and comfort in having meals together. But we couldn’t leave Bitz alone and she was too sick to be in the main house. The isolation and eating in our quarters felt much like the early days of the pandemic when I nearly lost my husband to the first bout of what-is-this-pre-emptive-days-of-covid. Such a reminder of how hard this last year+ has been .. on everyone.

But we work with what we wake up with EVERY DAY, even when we are awake for most of the 24 hours, even when the day bleeds into night and we fight the fears of darkness and dark days. We took care of Bitz.  We whispered in her ear, you are going to be okay. I would wake up at night to see him bent over with a crook neck … arm stretched out holding her in her bed.  I knew he’d wake up with awful pain from the bad posture, but the sleep was more important and if I woke him he’d just be up worrying again.

I worried about Bitz, my heart was breaking for her that week and a half and the lack of sleep fueled my worry-about-me-mind to the story-line of what about us? What will happen to US if Bitz dies? She’s always such a help at keeping us both centered and grounded.  She’s our marriage therapy dog for sure. She’s always pushing us into a cuddle puddle with her in the middle. What would happen to US?

I was beyond being able to hear or be assured that we would be okay, though I’m certain the worried southern man was doing his best to assuage my fears. Sometimes we are past the point of being consoled because we can’t surrender to the possibility of yet another loss which will most certainly come, it’s just a matter of time.

This was fortunately NOT THE TIME for Bitz to leave us. She’s used up three of her near death cat lives and we don’t really know how many cat lives a dog has.  But between the anaphylactic shock from the bee sting a few years ago, to the palm thorn that nearly punctured her heart and now this pancreatic crisis .. well gosh she’s statistically beat the odds. Which lets us know that we were never in control of her destiny.  We are just grateful to Grace that we’ve been given more time to enjoy her. Which is all we can do, with all of the hours in the day, is it not? We can do the best that we can muster in the moment to enjoy the sentient beings that have been sent to us in order for us to experience the divine through their eyes.  And when they look at you with the infinite pool of stillness in the center of their eye .. let them know that they are okay and it’s all going to be alright. It was no accident that I walked into my daughter’s home-school lesson last week just in time to hear her read a book to her two pupils. If there is ever any doubt, Bob Marley is always a paraclete. This is my lesson to you. ♫