Growing up in the middle of L.A and basically having a jungle with every assortment of animal is the gift of my father. He loves animals and kids so much. My brother and I would bring old wood home to our house and even discarded Christmas trees after the holidays and we would make a forest. My father never said do not do this or keep this neat but somehow we did with the freedom we had and my father loved, as my friend Lew Fein called, “the necessary chaos”.
I think about that idea of chaos with Lupine and how much hair she has all over the place and I was always cleaning up her down and setting it out for the birds to build nests in the spring. But I think of a story this morning where my father is in a restaurant with my step-mom who never had kids and he saw this child given the freedom to try and hold his own malt. The child of course spills it and my step-mom said” they should not let that child try and do its thing” and my father said, ” how beautify.” He turned to me and said I loved it when you would make that effort to make your own sandwich and the whole table was covered with jam and peanut butter.
I think when we love animals as the necessary chaos because this informs our life with unexpected beauty, another kind of order of its own making.
Lupine was given too much medication and too fast like she was as a pup and it made her have a seizure right before she died but she got it out of her system and let me hold her and rested her head in my lap. It was like even her bile was honey and part of her, and all we are made of and let go of all at once. I have had a hard time with the images of her death, and it was hard to sleep. I opened the door last night and said to her if she wants to come rest here and leave the barn where her body is to come home tonight but to continue on her journey. I lite the candle again at 3am and stayed up most of the night scrambled some eggs. I immediately thought I would bring some out to her and then realized she is not there.
What is palpable is beauty, the malt, the child with a fever or a dog with an upset stomach and we can care for it, offer comfort and gentleness. None of this is easy but it is real and we want real we have enough covering of pain and loss of grace that is bestowed upon us in every moment.
Thanks to all the words and wishes of others.
This is a photo of my brother and I as we sit in our yard with our chicken coop, and this other shot looks like the coyote I saw at the lake yesterday while visiting there with Lupine’s body.