difficult water cheese

“The difference between theism and nontheism is not whether one does or does not believe in God… Theism is a deep-seated conviction that there’s some hand to hold: if we just do the right things, someone will appreciate us and take care of us. It means thinking there’s always going to be a babysitter available when we need one. We all are inclined to abdicate our responsibilities and delegate our authority to something outside ourselves. Nontheism is relaxing with the ambiguity and uncertainty of the present moment without reaching for anything to protect ourselves.”  American Tibetan Buddhist nun and teacher Pema Chödrön. In When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times

I chose this quote specifically because today I am remembering another Tibetan, or indeed a Tibetan-ish!  

Pepper hated to be left in the courtyard without his people

💔

So, the last few days Pepper hasn’t quite been himself-  he’s been doing a little coughing and breathing heavily but yesterday I thought he was better and he did eat a little bit for the first time in several days.  During the night his breathing and wheezing got so bad that it woke me up so I put on shoes and went outside with him like I used to do with kids when they had the croup.   He sat at my feet and the heavy humidity helped a bit but the bugs were out to get me so after an hour I took him back in.   I thought maybe now we could both get some sleep.

He was always trying to be a good Guy, always standing back for everybody else to go through the door first, never begging, always a gentle dog. He loved everybody immediately.

At 8 I called the vet and told them he had his influenza booster right before the hurricane and the booster right after it, and I thought maybe he was having a reaction-  they told me to get over there right away so I put on some clothes and grabbed him and out the door we went-  it’s only around the corner.  They wanted me to park at the back entrance and because this flu is so highly contagious I had to sit with the windows closed and wait for them to come get him.  First the tech came out and we talked through the window, then the vet and a new tech came out in HASMET SUITS and took him in for blood work and X-rays.  I was told to stay in the car and they would come back to report to me.  They had him in isolation with an air lock and everything.

Meanwhile I was getting very nervous because I was pretty much on fumes instead of a tank of gas, so when the tech reappeared she told me I had to transfer Pepper to the hospital about 2 miles away and do so immediately.  He needed a few days of hospitalization.  Told her the gas situation so she sent me out to get some and come back to pick him up and they would keep him stable inside.

Visited 2 stations, left the first because there were police cars dealing with something or other, and I then went to second, had no trouble filling up, and raced back to my vet, calling them to tell them where I was so they could have Pepper waiting behind the building.  Screeched up and they put a fluffy towel down and set him on my back seat where he looked miserable, sad and hurting.  I took off down Military trail to the hospital, about 2 miles in the other direction, and as I came to my turn I heard a thump in the backseat, couldn’t see, but I saw he had gone down onto the floor and realized I couldn’t hear that awful heavy raspy breathing any more.  Started screaming at him, tried to reach over to touch him but had some trouble.  Meanwhile the overpowering smell of shit hit me.  Pepper NEVER had accidents-  he would hold it until he burst.  So I kept reaching over and poking his shoulder and yelling at him-  all I could reach until I pulled up to the hospital-  place an incoherent call to them to get out to meet me and they did-  my own vet had told them I was coming.  I raced around to the back seat where he was and his head was wedged under the front seat and his body had done a somersault over that.  The techs grabbed him, I got into passenger seat to move it as far forward as I could to unwedge him, and they disappeared inside.  

This is his first day with us, right after we got him from his Foster Family.  They did a wonderful job with him and we were so happy to have found him.  We had no idea how old he was, no idea where he came from, nothing except that his name was Hercules-  a little too much name for him to deal with so he became Pepper, or Pepperoni.

I filled out some basic paperwork and they came out to ask if I wanted them to try all means, I said yes because I love the guy so they continued working on him.  10 minutes later they came back to ask if I wanted to continue, he wasn’t responding.  And by then I had a wit return and said no.  Turned down private cremation, turned down communal cremation, turned down a plaster paw print.  I went in to give him a hug and a kiss between the eyes and a giant apology.  

He had bilateral pneumonia, and the hospital told me that they thought one lung had collapsed and he just couldn’t get any air any more-  he simply wore out.  

I had been concerned about his cough the day before and had already made plans to see the vet-  when I called it was to make an appointment, not even red alert emergency on my part.  I am feeling so guilty.  Maybe it was because I took him out into the hurricane so many times, though I dried him completely as soon as we got back in.  Maybe it was chronic respiratory problems-  we always kidded that he was a mouth breather.  Maybe I shouldn’t have gone off to find gas and taken him directly to the hospital and then worried about where the car would get to.  Maybe I should have tried to pull over then I heard that thump, though how does one give a dog CPR in the back seat of the car pulled over in the left hand turn lane of a busy highway?  

It took months for his sister to accept him but he was passive and accepting and let her have the lead. Eventually she started looking for him and they became a team. He always deferred to her.  The other amazing thing about him is he never knew how to really bark!  He let his sister bark for both of them.

Anyway, I am devastated.  Molly is again an only-dog and will probably be happier overall.  But she’s 13+ and doesn’t have long.  She jumped into my lap a while ago and seemed a little too smug.  I’ll have to do this again soon which is not helping my sorrow.  

Later:  I was just out walking Molly and the Guatemalan landscape guy was here to spray and told me to keep the dog in for an hour.  I said sure, he than looked at me and asked, "Don't you have two dogs?'  First time I have had to answer that question and I started weeping in front of him.  

I'm sure you will understand if I hold back our ARTY PARTY until tomorrow.