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Rod & Sunny 8/5/99 - Photographed by
Robert Gentry.
A Thought for Today
Grief in passing leaves but little light.
TO BEGIN WITH
Occasionally while shuffling through the flight plan archives I stumble
across something I feel like sharing with you again. This is the first
time I’ve repeated a previously published Ask Rod and this one appeared
here nine years ago.
.ASK
ROD
I've sat on today's letters for awhile.
Reading them over and over, trying to stall off answering them, yet not wanting to ignore
them. From the minute I downloaded these notes I knew that they were the most important
letters I had received since I went on line.
How do you comfort loss in any really meaningful way? What can be said that will make a
difference? I'm truly ambivalent about my own death, only worrying that I waste too much
time and will not have done all I want to do and accomplished what I could and should have
by the time it takes me.
I handle the illness and death of friends badly. I'm never as comforting as I want to be.
I'm absent through my own fault at crucial times. Even when I know the death of someone I
love is coming and inevitable, I often avoid contact and stay in denial until it's too
late. I'm tardy with condolence letters.
When it comes to animals, those of my own immediate family, I do have a sixth sense or
maybe not . . . perhaps we are so close that they let me know when death is about to come.
The loss is, of course, immeasurable. Do I love them more than family? They are family.
Every one of them I've lived with and have lost are as close to me as Edward or any
brother or sister, son or daughter could be. Yes, those three words say it all, they are
family.
TOMMY
Dear Rod, Under "Random Thoughts" on 16 June 1999, were
the words "few angels have been heard to sing, but many purr when stroked just
so." 11 days earlier our family pet cat was killed, by a speeding motorist who didn't
even stop. Tommy is buried in his favourite spot in our garden. We would like to put those
words on a little sign on his grave. Can we credit those words to you?
I know some people will say he was only a cat, but to my children, my wife and I he was an
important member of our family. Brian Challis, Isleham, Ely, Cambridgeshire, England.
Dear Brian, What an honor for me to have my words over the grave of your beloved Tommy.
Only a cat? We humans should have such virtue, elegance, independence, ability to love and
downright beauty as any cat that ever lived anywhere, let alone Tommy. I share you and
your family's grief at losing Tommy, but most importantly I wish I could have shared the
good luck of knowing and loving Tommy as you did. No one can ever take that away from you.
I have an upper garden in the front yard where each of my animal family members that has
passed is buried. Most have a flat stone over their graves with their names and the year
they died engraved upon it.
Edward and I go through a pretty elaborate ritual when we put them to rest. For the cats I
get a wooden wine case from the basement, line it with aluminum foil and a towel from the
linen closet. Then I take my favorite Tee shirt of the moment and slip the body into it
before putting it in the box. Edward adds a favorite toy and we retire the cat's dish with
it. If I've written about that particular animal in a book, the book is added as well.
Lastly, before nailing the box shut, whatever flowers are blooming in the garden the very
prettiest and best are added. We take turns digging the hole and filling in the dirt.
Does it help ease our grief? I don't know. But does any family member deserve less? Thanks
again for the honor. Love, Rod
MONKEY
Dear Rod, In April 1997 we saw an advertisement in our local
newspaper from the home of lost animals: "Who is willing to give a pleasant home for
a five year old Old English Sheepdog. He, Bo, has had a very unhappy life until now (ill
treatment) and was found severely neglected in the woods of Spaarnwoude. His former owner
is not willing and capable to take care of him. Bo has a very friendly character and can
get on very well with children and cats. The only thing is he is very afraid to be
abandoned."
My mum and I went to the home of lost animals to have a look. We met
with an almost bald shaven, shabby, stinking, skinny dog that supposed to be an Old
English Sheepdog. But we fell in love with him immediately the first time we saw him. We
should be the perfect new owners according to the employees, because Bo would be our third
Bobtail we ever had. We knew what we could expect to do when you have to take care of such
a dog.
Coming home together with him my dad heaved: "Okay, he's your dog. It's your choice,
I have nothing to do with him."
Because Bo had had a very unhappy life before he came (we were his
fifth owners) we decided to give him a new name. A new name for a new, hopefully happier
period of lifetime for him. His new name was Abab, nickname Aap (that is the Dutch word
for monkey). Aap turned out to be the nicest, friendliest, the most amiable and trustful
dog we ever had, an inseparable soulmate. Even for my dad, they became friends for life.
From a miserable, frightened, bald, skinny dog he changed into a happy, healthy, wool-bale
full of life. We were very happy with him and he was feeling comfortable with us, that was
for sure.
Until half a year ago. Aap began to cough and our vet discovered he
had heart problems (an enlarged heart with leaking valves). But with some special
medicines he still could live further for a couple of years. Those couple of years lasted
six months.
Last week his condition declined, his body was full of fluid. The vet gave him some more
medicines but she gave us no hope. Tomorrow we have to go back with him, but I think there
is no improvement. So I am afraid we have to take leave of Aap tomorrow. No need to tell
you, how broken-hearted and inconsolable we are. But if life becomes unbearable for the
dog... we have to take this difficult decision.
Aap became a full member of our family in that short of time he was
with us. He really deserved to have a better, long and happy life. Now I understand Dan
Strickland, your conductor/pianist in the late seventies, so well. Do you remember him?
When on tour, he always phoned his mother back home several times a day, only to listen to
his doggie. He was missing him so much.
"It doesn't matter who you love, or how you love... but that you love" is still
the most important credo I've learned from you.
Rod, the reason I tell you this all, is that I want to thank you for
letting me make acquaintance with these kind of dogs. Thank you, that you showed us Mr.
Kelly jr. and Old Boot at your home, years ago. (Do you remember?) We always have had dogs
of all sorts, but the Old English Sheepdogs were the most social and nicest dogs we ever
had.
As I told you Aap was our third Bobtail. First there was Kelly
(named after your Mr. Kelly), the second was Bommel. Both became 10 years of age. Aap will
never reach that age, but I am grateful to him that he wanted to spend his last two years
with me (us). No other dog can and will ever replace him. With love, Inge Pieper,
Santpoort-N, Holland
PS: No need to use this letter in your Flight-Plan. I only wanted to write a personal note
to you in this hard time for me. And I wanted to let you know that I'm still thinking of
you, Edward, Wade, Hy, Bette and the wonderful time we had more than twenty years ago.
Where is the time, time flies. But you are still not forgotten. It's great you have your
Flight-Plans. Since August last year I am a daily visitor of your homepage. And it is nice
to meet well-known names from the past in your daily Internet messages, like Sue
Richardson. Would you please say "hello" to her from me?
Dear Inge, Wonderful to hear from you, even under such sorrowful and difficult
circumstances. OES's are one of God's more perfect creations. He only goofed in one
department as far as they are concerned; even under the best of circumstances Bobtails
don't have as long a life expectancy as such intelligent (dumb when they want to be),
silly, warm and loveable creatures deserve.
Most OES's don't do much of anything. No fetching the paper, no special tricks. They just
make the most delightful friends and companions in the world. They hate being alone and
would rather be in your lap or your bed or at your side than anywhere else in the world.
Monkey sounds very special and I know he was. Added to that I know you and how special you
are and since OES's take on the personalities of the people they own, Monkey had to have
been the best.
I love how you found Monkey and the stability and love you gave him in his few remaining
years. Of course, it's really all out of balance, those animals that adopt us always give
us so much more than is possible for us mere mortals to give back to them. Still if
reincarnation works, I wouldn't mind coming back as Brian or Bob or Edward & Rod's cat
or Inge's Bobtail.
There isn't anything I can say to ease you through this time. But look at it this way,
Monkey deserves all the grief and remembrance you can give him.
Speaking of sheep dogs, you mentioned the crazy and wonderful Old Boot. I miss him and all
the others every day. Because Old Boot was the first family member to be buried in the
garden we naturally call that section Boot Hill. Boot was wrapped up and buried in my best
bedsheets and there is a nearly full-grown Bay Tree growing over his grave. I make lots of
stews and soups, so I'm always up on the hill for a visit as I swipe a leaf or two from
his tree for seasoning.
Inge, you've added so much to my life over the years, I wish there was something tangible
I could offer you now to ease your pain. Just know I'm thinking of you and sending my
love. Rod
COTTONBALL
Rod, Today we laid Cottonball down for the final time. What a
wonderful thirteen years we shared with her. I remembered your sheepdog Katie and you cat
named Sloopy. I think they have a new friend running the cactus somewhere in Arizona. I
was not too human to love her with all that I have. Bob Seaman
Dear Bob, That's the key to everything . . . remembering those thirteen years you had
together. No one can ever take them away.
Edward's cat, Magic, outlived both of her sons and for two years she was the only cat we
had left in the house. She was old, but active and we decided she deserved that time as
the only object our affection. Of course she made the most of it. During those two years
we spoiled her even more than we had in the past fifteen. Neither of us had ever
experienced having to put an animal down before, but she was very sick, in pain and with
no possibility of recovery. Edward couldn't possibly hold her while the doctor
administered the needle, so I did. Talking to her and petting her as her life slipped away
while she was in my arms. It was an awful feeling, tempered only by knowing she was
finally out of pain.
I'm sorry you had to go through that experience too, Bob, but glad you had the compassion
and wisdom to step in and help ease her away from life. I'd bet anything she's having a
great time in our collective menagerie. Love to you and your family, Rod
Do we invest too much love and time and
thought in our so-called pets? Absolutely not. Anyone who's lived with and loved an animal
knows they are no less important than our children are. They are our children. And most
often with better tempers. There it is, no more, no less.
This past year we've had two major losses in The Stanyan Family. Ken was forced to stand
helplessly by while his beloved dog Tedward was torn to pieces by Rotweilers. Dwight's
miniature greyhound, Edwin, was the victim of a hit and run driver.
Life goes on. It has to. None of our lost family members are replaceable. We'll have
others. We'll love them as much. They'll just be different, not replacements. But think
how much poorer we'd be, without even realizing it, if we hadn't had the company of those
family members lost now, but certainly not forgotten.
Edward and I lasted about 4 days without another cat. Then came Rocky and Dinah. In
addition we now have Kubby Too and the little monster pictured above who runs the house.
His name is Sunny, and is he ever.
First Published 8/9/99
ADDENDUM 7/4/2008
Dinah and Kubby now rest on Boot Hill and are missed and mourned every
day. We are now owned, in just about every way, by the laid back Rocky
and the loveable Sunny who still lives up to his name.
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