Life is full of heartbreaks. Recently a close friend was in the hospital with a broken hip. She had a much-loved animal companion named Harry who was a cat of many dispositions. He was older than my old friend, who was in her late 80s. He had developed cancer and was thin as a rail, losing his grip on things, and suffering from a number of other serious conditions. While my friend was recovering, Harry developed a serious mouth abscess. This added to his many woes and he was no longer able to eat or defecate. A close friend was looking after him and reported his condition daily.
My friend had hoped to be able to see him before he passed, to take him home to her country home and bury him where he had been happiest. Alas, it was not to be, and he had to be put out of his misery.
One of life’s lessons.
At times like this there is almost nothing one can offer by way of comfort.
I wrote a poem almost 35 years ago when I lost my long-haired German Shepherd. I had to put her to sleep because of deteriorating hip problems and skin conditions. She was 13, had hematomas in her ears as many shepherds get as they age, and suffered from numerous other problems. I did not want her to suffer. I felt guilty about it, I still mourn her loss, and I am at times overwhelmed with sadness.
The lesson is, with each loss of a companion the heart is cracked open, and that is how the light gets in. Or so the poet Leonard Cohen thinks. So do I. My heart grew bigger and more open because of Salaza. I hope that my friend’s does as well.
Rediscovering Romaine Brooks 