What a Standout!

This time of year, in between the rains, the cows still graze in wide open fields. Today, one scene caught my eye as I passed the last dairy before heading home–200 jersey cows all lying on the lush pasture, except for one gal who stood in the middle of them all. I shouted to no one, “What a standout!” And then immediately thought of our dear dog Bodhi who we said goodbye to just a week ago.

Over the last month, I’d often get down on the floor at Bodhi level and ask him if he was ready and then I’d pause to listen and watch for a sign. Even in his struggles–lack of mobility, sight, and hearing–I wanted him to be part of the decision. According to animal communicators, animals will let us know when the time is right. They also say that our animal family members love us unconditionally. I kept these two things in mind as we navigated this mysterious time.

Looking back now, I understand that Bodhi did give me a sign. On Friday, Oct. 17th, on my way down the road to lift weights at the Y (past those same cows), a thought arrived seemingly out of nowhere, that was something like, thank goodness for an injury free summer. I have to be careful when I work on the land because things happen–holes open up in the soft ground to swallow perfectly good ankles, sharp garden tools cut through flesh, wasps dive bomb a leg, and sometimes, like last fall, the river pulls you in when you least expect it.

Manzanita, OR

When I got to the gym I grabbed my normal weights and added a set of 20 lb. dumbbells because I felt ready for the wee bump of weight. I did a quick warm up and set to it. On the very first dead lift I felt a rubber-band like snap in my lower back that immediately lit up my pain receptors. I could not shake it off, nor stretch it out, so I painstakingly re-racked the equipment and left. I’d been at the gym for all of 10 minutes. 

On the drive home, I thought, what are the chances that I’d have this thought about injury and then 15 minutes later, get an injury? Was it a premonition or self fulfilling prophecy? Did I jinx myself? 

For the next two days I iced my back while my husband JD took over all the Bodhi lifting. By now Bodhi couldn’t walk up or down steps and certainly wouldn’t wander any real distance. He needed help finding his food and water bowls and sometimes his bed. I was no help with any of it. If I wanted to whisper to Bodhi, kiss his head, or rub his back to help him settle, I had to old-lady-it down to the floor to reach him. 

On what would be his last night with us, I slowly lowered myself next to his bed and asked him if he was closer. He looked at me through those cloudy eyes and I finally understood that no amount of gabapentin could help him with the chronic discomfort he felt in his back and knees. The pain was exhausting. Do you understand? He asked. I did.

Sand Lake Dunes, OR

We adopted Bodhi, then named Coco, a border collie mix, in January of 2019 from AARF (Animal rescue Resource Foundation) a 501(c)(3) network of canine foster care homes. I remember Bodhi’s adoption day perfectly. Dana Mikel, co-founder of AARF, was fostering Bodhi at her house so we were able to learn a bit of his story. Apparently, he’d been seen roaming the streets of Tijuana and was eventually taken in by a kind woman who worried for his safety because of his significant limp and seeming vulnerability. The only reason she didn’t keep him forever was because Bodhi, all 25lbs of him, wouldn’t back down to her German Shepherd. She feared the worst so she packed him up and drove across the border to the safety of AARF.

Dana’s house was a dog’s paradise: tiled floors, wall to wall toys, and wide open doors to come and go as they liked. There must have been 8 dogs there, but maybe there were more, hard to say because her teenage children were coming in and out and the phone was ringing off the hook. Bodhi didn’t seem to mind any of it as long as he had his tennis ball. We fell in love immediately.

Bodhi had to learn how to trust, socialize with other dogs, wag his tail, play, and cuddle. He learned to tolerate the beach (though not the water) keep a slow and steady pace, and take his daily “walkabout”, a meandering stroll from the back of the house to the front door.

Bodhi had a lot of challenges. The doctors guessed that he’d probably been hit by a car because his right shoulder was healed in permanent dislocation and his head was at a constant tilt. He had luxating patella knee issues, tooth decay, eye infections, and an affinity for the emergency room. He made the best of his difficulties and always bounced back from his hospital stays, probably because of all the love he received there. If he survived on the streets for three years, no amount of dehydration or nausea was going to take him down.  

Not even another car! On countless occasions, we’d find Bodhi in the middle of the street at our house in Del Mar. Evidently, the air is fresher out in the wide open and his long fur responded more flowingly, not that he was an egotistical guy. On one of our sightseeing outings here in Oregon, we stopped at the local sand dunes to run on the hills, but we quickly realized that Bodhi was nowhere to be found. When I retraced my steps, I found him standing in the middle of the highway; luckily no cars were approaching. And just this summer, on his routine walkabout, he ended up on the road, timing it perfectly between logging trucks, to be rescued by a leisurely driving minivan family who stopped to help him back to the house.

Bodhi is short for bodhisattva, a sanskrit word from “bodhi” awakened one and “sattva” meaning sentient being. His name fit him perfectly. Bodhi never met a being he didn’t love. He was never too busy nor too tired to be kind, heed a call, or receive a treat. For years, I took the dogs to school with me. Pablo and Bodhi looked forward to their time in the classroom. My students (10th & 12th graders) would throw toys for them, teach them tricks, and rub their bellies. In return, the dogs would help kids with what they needed. If they were feeling anxious or lonely, or just needed a break from poetry or Shakespeare, they could find a soft compassionate friend on the floor and curl up with him.

Pablo has always been by Bodhi’s side. He protected him at the beach when other dogs were too aggressive, let him win at tug of war, and always gave up his bed for him. Last Thursday was no different. When JD put Bodhi in the car for the vet appointment, Pablo jumped in too. He refused to get out and even started shaking. This was not normal behavior. So Pablo came with us. He was there for all of it: the peanut butter treats, the love from the staff, and Bodhi’s final breath.

We buried Bodhi on his favorite bed under a huge crabapple tree on our property in the rainforest. We decorated his grave with a river stone, fir boughs, calendula and marigold flowers. Pablo observed from close by. When I walked back to the house, I noticed that for the first time in a week, my back felt better. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not.

Bodhi was a total standout.

It might sound strange, but this morning when I noticed the one cow standing up amongst a sea of lounging sisters, I felt Bodhi’s kind and gentle presence. He was truly a gift, as every animal is, especially the ones who let us take care of them in the end. I do feel his unconditional love and gratitude. Bodhi would have been 9-years old this January.