Living in Reality

Today I read Richard Rohr's newsletter from Monday, March 11, 2024, which you can find at https://cac.org/daily-meditations/our-limited-perspectives/. In this daily meditation, he talks about how humans tend to let the ego drive our perspective on reality. He says that unless we recognize and admit this to ourselves, "We will live with a high degree of illusion that brings much suffering into the world." He reminds us that the self is a small, petty product of the ego, but the Self is everything. According to Rohr, "People with a distorted image of self, world, or God will be largely incapable of experiencing what is Really Real in the world." This message hit especially close to home for me as I come to realize that my beloved dog, Sadie, is approaching the end of her life.

Sadie came to us from a shelter. She was malnourished and very anxious and only slowly warmed to our family. Eventually she really bonded with me and became my constant companion. She used to hate going on walks, as everything frightened her. With some anti-anxiety meds she came to love walks and demanded that I take her every morning.

Sadie was already mature when we got her, with a touch of gray on her face. The vet estimated she was at least six to eight years old. We've had her for seven years, so she's probably 15 or so now. Over the last year or two she has developed hip dysplasia, and eventually she needed assistance getting up off of our slick tile and wood floors. The last couple of weeks she hasn't wanted to eat her food, so I started pureeing her canned food and encouraging her to eat it by spoon feeding it to her. Now she really has no interest in eating. She also stopped asking to go on walks—except for today. She seemed to want to go on a walk, so we went. She took us on our usual path, stumbling now and then as we went down the street and down a hill. We didn't quite make it to the interesting clump of plants that she usually stops to smell, but she smelled deeply of the other plants we passed along the way. She fell sharply at one point and seemed stunned. She very slowly made her way home, dragging a foot now and then. Now she is resting on one of the many mats that we bought to help her get traction as she scrambles to get up.

I've been avoiding the reality of the situation for a while, letting my ego drive my thinking, hoping to keep her with me just a little while longer. And now I must let her go. I must let go of the idea that perhaps if I just encourage her to eat more food and get more exercise she will bounce back from the edge of death.

Maybe I was selfish to encourage this last walk with Sadie, but I'm grateful I got to spend some time with her in the sun of this cool, spring morning. Sadie got to sniff many interesting things, always her favorite part of a walk.

We have an appointment with the veterinarian this afternoon. If he agrees that it is time to put an end to Sadie's suffering, then we will euthanize her. I realize how fortunate I am that I can facilitate her death in a painless and humane way, something I could not do for my mother.

My last loving gift to Sadie will be a release from the pain of this world. I will look back on our time together as sweet and ephemeral, and I will  always be grateful for the time she spent with me.