Rest in Peace, Tina

For those of you who are not already aware, Sparkey's little "sister" Tina left this world on Friday, September 21st, the last day of summer.

Tina was getting weaker and weaker, often unable to walk or stand, and needing our constant companionship and vigilance in her final week of life. She gave us very clear signals that it was time for her to take her leave of us, and even so it was--and is--very painful to let her go.

Since Facebook is now the communication tool of choice among our friends, family and brethren, we have created a memorial Facebook page for Tina so that she can be remembered and memorialized in proper digital fashion. Feel free to pay a visit. There are stories, photos, videos, remembrances, and all good things related to our wonderful little girl who lived such a long and happy life.

We hope that Sparkey and Tina are now reunited--along with many of their other spirit friends--and that they fully enjoy the freedom from their physical bodies that eventually were more burdensome than comfortable.

While we are happy for their release, we're left here with our heavy hearts, continuing our time on this mortal coil until we too can join them.

We love you, Tina!

Six Years

Well folks, today marks six years since Sparkey left this world. The above photo, which I don't think has ever been featured here on Latter Day Sparks, shows a plaque made by my Keith's father, Gene Carlson. The ersatz "boxing gloves" are two of the four booties that Sparkey wore on his feet in his final days in order to protect his nails and paws from his dragging gait. (Rene corrected us that Sparkey was actually born in 1993, not 1992--but who's counting!)

Meanwhile, Tina plods along towards her 18th birthday on April 1st, 2013, and we're amazed that she's survived Sparkey for so very many years. We imagine Sparkey visits her in her dreams from time to time, and will some day guide her over the bridge to her forever home.

The photo of Tina was taken this summer as Keith held the old girl in his arms. Already accepted into a dog photo contest, Tina just might make the cut to be one of the canines whose mug will be on a 2013 Santa Fe dog calendar. We'll keep you posted on that--and on Tina's Facebook page that's now in the works.

We miss our boy, and we allow other dogs in our lives to remind us of good old Sparkey--like Barney, Tina's three-year-old boyfriend.

Long live Sparkey D. Dog. We salute his spirit today and every day!

Five Years

Today marks five years since Sparkey left us for the next world and his Great Reward. His loyalty, unquestionable cuteness and intense way of tuning into the human world will always be remembered. Some dogs are very canine in their nature and behavior, but Sparkey---although quite the quintessential "dog's dog"---was also very much aware of the human dimension and seemed to be very sensitive to us on a variety of levels.

Occasionally, there are dogs whose physiognomy or personality (or both) remind us of Sparkey, and those moments conjure a sweet sadness that is not altogether disagreeable.

I sometimes wonder if Tina misses him, but she has also made plenty of dog friends since his passing. She even has a 2-year-old boyfriend named Barney who tries to play with Tina like Sparkey used to, but she is quick to put him in his place when he becomes too frisky.

Although his body is long gone and has since fed the verdant soil under the dogwood bush in our old yard in Massachusetts, Sparkey's spirit continues to shine, and for that continued connection and remembrance we are forever grateful.

Four Years

Today marks four years since dear old Sparkey left his earthly body. On that fateful day, Mary, Rene and I gathered around him on our peaceful porch as the vet ended his suffering, and he licked us each on the face as a single tear rolled down his furry cheek. We buried him in the side yard of our house (the house we sold last year), and his old bones still rest in that hallowed place.

Sparkey was an amazing dog who was quite tuned into the human world. Whereas some dogs seem content in their canineness, Sparkey was one of those canines who seemed more human than most. He was especially tuned into human emotions, and there was no end to the empathy that he bestowed on members of his extended pack.

Sparkey and I were like soul mates, and there was a bond between us like I have never had with another animal (no offense, Tina!), and he was simply a special animal who came into our lives with a reservoir of love and devotion to give.

We miss our boy dearly, and we send our love to him, wherever he may be.

Rest in peace, Sparkey. One of these days Tina will join you at the Rainbow Bridge, and you both will have a joyous reunion. Til then, know that she is a happy old girl, slowly losing her eyesight and her hearing, but not her love of food and sleep and affection!

We love you, Bob. Thank you for the many years of devotion and love that you gave to our family, and know that we will never forget you!

Sparkey Comes to a Friend in a Dream

Hi Keith and Mary,

Sparkey came to me in a dream last night. I was lost and afraid in a vast underground metro system of a strange city (probably Rome) and he came trotting up to me with that big smile and the white tip of his tail waving like a flag. He was in robust health. He helped me to find my way home to __________ by accompanying me as I searched for the bus platform that would get me there. Even though it was after hours and there was a locked door I found a nice man at a service desk who gave me the key that unlocked it. Sparkey and I went down the stairs to the bus stop. I was five minutes late but the bus hadn't come yet and I was going to be o.k. Then the cats woke me up. :-)

So as I was driving to work this morning I felt that I must let you and Mary
know that I had seen him. I think he wanted to say "hi" to you.

Love, Lucinda

Reminiscent of Sparkey

This is a detail of a painting by Andrew Wyeth that reminds me so much of the good ol' days with Sparkey. 

Morning (and Mourning) Has Broken

This was just posted on my blog Digital Doorway and I share it here with you:

December 2nd is a sadly significant day for our family. It marks the anniversary of the murder (at the hands of the police) of Woody, our best family friend, whose untimely and unnecessarily voilent death occurred on this day in 2001, not three months after the events of 9/11. Interestingly, on the day Woody was killed, we were in New York City visiting my great-aunt Theresa, who at the time was around 112 years old. At her advanced age, straddling three centuries, she managed to outlive Woody by three months.

Our dear Woody---who was my wife's former partner, my son's best friend, mentor and honorary uncle, and my closest confidante---is as sorely missed now as he was five years ago. As much as I am able to embrace death as merely a continuation of life on another energetic and spiritual plane, his physical absence from our lives and home is still a palpable emptiness that has persisted over time.

The 2nd of each month also marks yet another month that our dear beloved dog Sparkey is gone. Sparkey and Woody were joined at the hip, twin flames who are inextricably linked in my mind due to their many adventures together over the years prior to Woody's death. When Woody would walk through our door, he would always immediately drop to the floor and allow the dogs to lick him ceaselessly, covering his red beard, mustache, eyes, and cheeks with their kisses of greeting. He would giggle as he lay there, the dogs intent on their right (and responsibility) to slick him down with joy and gusto. Once he was done greeting the dogs, we were next, and his entry was almost always a source of upliftment for all. Rene would have his "uncle" and playmate, I would have my best male friend, and Mary would have her old friend for whom she functioned as confidante, maternal figure, and spiritual sister.

When Sparkey died in September of 2006, we carried his golden and red body to his freshly dug grave in our yard. His coat always reminded me of Woody's hair and beard in its orange-red brilliance. It was like burying a part of Woody that day. Now a small dogwood (purchased and lovingly planted by our son Rene) sits on Sparkey's grave, some of Woody's and Tulane's ashes and Rene's baby teeth mixed with the rich soil of loss.

This first week in December carries with it a great deal of energy reflecting loss and grief. Yesterday, December 1st, used to be my parents' wedding anniversary up until their divorce in 1976 when I was 12 years old. Tomorrow, December 3rd, will mark three months since my step-father's death on September 3rd. Finally, the next day---December 4th---will mark what would have been my mother's and step-father's 30th wedding anniversary. Multiple blows of grief and loss billow through this week, and I/we just roll with the punches.

Still, I am grateful. These beings have fed me with their friendship and loyalty, adding immeasurable quality to my life's trajectory. My step-father (80), Sparkey (14), and Theresa (112) each died from natural causes---pancreatic cancer, renal failure, and old age, respectively---and they were all considerably old (especially Theresa!) based upon their respective species' life expectancy.

As for Woody, his demise was premature and tragic, although I give thanks in this moment for the wonderful times we shared together. Since we were both born in 1964, we had shared visions of our middle age and old age together, and had always looked forward to celebrating our 40th birthdays together. Sadly, we were robbed of that opportunity, and he left me to celebrate my birthdays without him---and there will doubtless be many, many more before I am ready to join him in the Great Beyond.

Woody's loss helps me to more fully appreciate and understand the loss experienced daily by people the world over who lose their loved ones to violence. Granted, I did not watch him be killed---a fate suffered by many individuals in Rwanda, Darfur, Burma, L.A., The Congo, and elsewhere---but he was still robbed from us, wrenched from our lives, and he is sorely missed.

So, here it is 5am and I am awake again. Morning has broken, mourning has broken, and we stand on this troubled planet looking up at the stars, wondering how our dearly departed are faring in their new manifestations, in whatever form that may take. Sparkey, Tulane, Theresa, Woody, and the many others: your days here are not forgotten, your departure still hurts, but we bless you and send you on your way. You are released, and when our blessed release comes, we will also know the sweet surrender of leaving this mortal coil, and entering those realms unknown to those of us still embodied.

May all beings be free. May all beings be happy. May all beings be free of suffering.