The Zen of Puppies

Sienna soon to be named Hope

What is it about puppies? Many might ask this about me now – and have.

"You are an intellect, your husband has cancer, you are retired. Are you crazy?"

Daily constricting myself, picking up puppy poop and urine, enduring sleepless nights due to multiple newborns, missing my fitness classes and possible evenings out?  Of course, my first obvious answer is yes, I’m crazy.

Bella, me, and Sienna

Many friends asked me a similar question when I first fell in love with Jim, “you have a teen age daughter and two dogs and multiple cats and parakeets, plus demanding careers, you had a disastrous first marriage. Are you crazy?”

The lovely telephone window at my parent's home.

But if you saw Jim on our first date, in business attire, suit, nice shoes sliding across a slick, snowy field with a one year old need-to-pee-or-bust dog he did not know in full moonlight laughing his ass off, well then you'd have known, the only possible answer is yes.

Yet in life there is no one answer, just a multitude of answers.

In my life, whenever life presents endings that is the time to bring in new life. Spring always follows winter. And so, it goes.

On the steady arm of my Dad, when I first saw Jim at our wedding.

When I’m in the deepest of life’s mysteries, roll out new life: vibrant paintings, gardens deeply furrowed---bring on puppies.Witch hazel in the depths of February chooses to bloom…granted the bloom is small but it is mighty, of strong stock and with sweet, pungent scent—calling all birds and insects starving for Spring’s bounty.

First day outside for Bella's puppies

That is how I see life, as death attempts, sometimes successfully, to open the door, find the other door and open it.  Find the goddess of life, of birth. She sings sweetly for young and old. She reminds us each of the circular nature of our time here. She brings joy and connects. Those dying, those of ill health, those caring, we do not choose to be alone, we choose instead to be open fully to life, to the living, to the hearts that embrace the joy of now. To the next. The goddess of death concurs: we are indeed one. Name us Persephone. I call this the shiny time.

Our first shiny time as husband and wife.

Like a Maine beach, where the tides open and withdraw from the granite stones. Each forward-to-land movement covers the dried stones. With each forward-to-sea movement, the water washes over and highlights the stone's beauty. Shiny time. The deepest sorrow illuminates the deepest joy. The never ending surprise is that even the most mundane really holds life's beauty.

Hey you are my Mom!

I was blessed this week: I took one of the pups on a long planned visit to a friend in assisted living.  The pup though was rightfully upset about travel—her first—whining partway until she fell asleep. We found our way slowly to our friends's room due to multiple interruptions—puppies despite their diminutive stature demand attention. However once inside, the pup calmed: biting up my fingers, relaxing into the warmth of my friend's bed, and then like a deep breath in and a deep breath out, she fell gently asleep under the assured gentle touch of my friend's hand. The magic of her touch. I came away reflecting: I had rightly anticipated the joy of the puppy to my friend, but what I discovered was the deeply joyful and soothing calm of my friend to the puppy and to myself.

That is life’s teaching, the teaching of the ill, the teaching of the newborne. Every moment calls our name. Are we listening? Are we seeing? We are here now. The zen of puppyhood.