Doubled Vision

8/11/2013   Lughnasa                                                             Honey Moon

Rigel, who weighs about 120/130, likes to come up to my chair while I’m reading, then put first one leg, then another in my lap.  Her head, now close to my chest, looks up at 2012 05 01_4255me, then she rests it there.  Not long.  But for a bit.  How long she stays in my lap varies, usually not more than a minute, if that.

In years before I might have shrugged her away, wanted to get on with my reading, not realized the precious moment that was happening.  With Tor, our great yellow Irish Wolfhound, a true sweetheart, much like Vega, Rigel’s sister, I began to have a doubled vision. No, not double vision, but doubled.  I would see Tor, smiling at me from the carpet, and I would see Tor dead, lying stiff and lifeless.  This may seem gruesome, and perhaps it is, but it comes from having experienced the deaths of so many dogs.

The phrase, how terrible it is to love something that death can touch, had become a present reality for me.  This doubled vision, a long and painful lesson taught to me by so many dogs, has changed my life.  When Rigel comes to visit in my chair now, I see the moment for what it is.  A time that will never come again.  A time that means everything, all of it, right in that instance.

In the way of tea the Japanese tea-master takes unbelievable pains to ensure that the tea ceremony you attend is a once in a lifetime experience, ichigo ichie.  The tea-master chooses art, flowers, tea cups, fresh water vessels, waste water vessels, foods and candies all with you in mind.  The Japanese tea-ceremony reminds in an elegant way, that every moment has the potential to be a once in a lifetime moment.

With the giant breed dogs, whose lives are so short, each moment is so clearly once in a lifetime.  They have taught me to cherish those ordinary moments, a dog crawling in my lap, as a time of unique tenderness.  This doubled vision, though I don’t encourage it necessarily, has taught me that it is this moment, this time, right now that is the time we have together.  Much better to embrace it than wish for it after death has already come.