Kodie

September 23, 1994 - May 7, 2011

Kodie was my four-legged companion for sixteen and a half years. I've already written so much about her to friends and family since her passing that not sure what I have to share here, but she was such a huge part of my life, and our love still is, that when coming to my blog I couldn't not write something. 


The last six months with her were the most tender, sweet months of my life. I was doing what I could to make her comfortable as joint and other pains and compromises of aging were taking over her life. She opened my heart and her shifting needs continually forced me to alter my responses. When she had her stroke, I stayed home from work that day, picked her up and held her in my lap, something I had never done, nor in her dignity would she have ever allowed, and yet there we were, melted into One. 


The following nights I laid next to her telling stories of our life together as I stroked her fur: her rescue in Ohio at three weeks old and into my arms at six weeks; 

1994

1995

1994

the joy and playfulness we experienced together for six months in the apartment in Honeoye Falls as she grew from puppy to young adult; the stories they told me of her waiting for me at puppy day care as she sat in stillness at the end of her run; her fourteen years with her feline sister, Sable and short months with her feline brother Luca; our days with two humans, five kittens, four cats and three dogs living in the house in Lima; 


1999
Protected during hunting season



1997

  living in the little red cottage in the woods and the pond she loved to paddle around in emerging with black mud up to her belly, and the huge deck she loved to lay on watching guard over the property and waiting for me to join her; 

1997

our move to the city of Rochester and her commitment to protecting me when I asked her to and my needing to assure her that she could relax when she took that responsibility so seriously; her socializing with other dogs on our walks in the park and her crush on the big Irish Setter; our multiple week-end treks to Long Island from Rochester over a three year period and her siestas in the car while I had my private Core sessions followed by our walks on the beach; 

2004

our times of separation while I attended trainings and she stayed with "Grandma" and "Grandpa", and visited "Aunt Karen";




our life together in the little white doll house in CT with its yard, four acres of woods, and busy highway that she so obediently and wisely avoided;

2005

2005

her long days waiting with Sable for me to return from work, but having her own adventures with the dog sitters; her bout with Lyme disease and the Anthrax scare in the neighborhood; 

2005

our visits to Big Indian, my former spiritual retreat center, where she felt lifted by its energies, but one time slipped into the sunken tub while she headed for the nature scene she saw through the window on the opposite side; 

2006

our return to NY where she could be in the snow she loved;

2007

.... and our extended stay in Cohocton with family where she knew she could get extra treats from Aunt Karen, Grandma would feed her if I wasn't home in time, and she could run to Grandpa in the event of a thunderstorm; 

Windmills on the opposite hill
2007

our walks among the newly placed hilltop windmills and along Naples Creek; our move to Mendon where she finally had a door with a floor length window where she could look out during the day and where she became the meet and greeter on our stretch of the Lehigh Valley Trail; my energy healings on her and the acupuncture treatments; her sleeping in the circle of women who came to my meditation classes.

2010

Kodie was the most noble creature I have ever known. She attracted everyone's attention, not by seeking it, but by simply Being. Her presence spoke volumes. She never barked for attention nor pushed her way into my or anyone's awareness. She only stared! She allowed everyone and everything else to also just Be except, on occasion, she pawed at me when we were visiting and she had determined it was time to go home.


In our last few months together I realized I could have talked more to her through the years, so began talking to her more. Regardless though, energetically, soulfully we were bonded. Not much had to be said. She knew my every mood and responded accordingly. If I was sad and cried she placed a paw on my knee, but if I was crying from self-pity she kept her distance; if I was angry she shook without me having said or done a thing; and when I was happy she would dance with me and run around with her butt close to the ground.

2008
Showing her characteristic ChowChow black tongue

Given the choice to end my constant companion, best friend's life was a curse and a gift. She was in pain, but I wanted her and didn't want her to be in more pain before making that choice. I also didn't want to make the choice because something in me needed it to end. She was so stoic. I kept hoping she would make the choice. 


One night when I returned from work she lifted her head enough so that I knew she knew I was there, but she didn't get up. A friend had suggested not to force her to get up or eat and drink, for if she was following instincts of the wild, she would need to be left alone.


So I waited that night. I stayed as quiet and unobtrusive as I could. Before going to bed I saged the house to purify it and lit candles on the alter that I intended to keep going until whenever.  I finally went to bed around 10:30, but she still had not stirred. Her bed was next to mine so I went in quietly and laid there in a state of meditation for about an hour. At some point I sent her love and within minutes she got up limping to the water bowl and then out to the kitchen to her food bowl. I was both grateful and sad. When we went outside, I felt as if I was in the presence of a very special nature spirit. It was other worldly. I realize now that it was a glimpse of her true nature that was about to transition into the spirit realm.

I chose to release her before there was a second major physical crisis as I witnessed evidence of another stroke and, because it had broken my heart to experience Sable's suffering at the end for I had waited too long. As I emailed my sister saying that as a creature that had never given anyone any grief, she deserved a peaceful death, I accepted making the choice. It came down to what was best for both of us, which was hard for me to do. 


The morning of the appointment I knew she knew as I watched her in her grace and her longing to prove to me how everything was fine as she shared my breakfast, attempted chasing after a couple dogs on the trail, insisted on hobbling across the bridge away from the main trail to do her business, and looked back at me with an alertness I had not seen in a long time. They are good memories. The night before she could barely stand up and was lost in her own pain. 

Resting along the Lehigh Valley Trail
October 2010

I know Kodie didn't want to leave me. When the vet asked me what were her favorite things what popped into my head was me. She loved the outdoors, especially in winter, but throughout the years, she would stare at the door waiting for me to come out so she could have it all, and show her delight when I did. 


The events of that morning were all so surreal and yet so normal (with an edge) and so peaceful - void of drama and panic. I assured her that I would be with her always. The final moments passed quickly and peacefully. We had spent a week saying good-bye. It was time. I had questioned if it was the right time before, and  afterwards, even though deep inside and with the more objective perspectives of others, I knew it was time.  


That night I was able to sit in meditation with my close friends and teacher which made it more possible for me to witness and experience her transition. The first thing I felt was her gratitude for being released from her ailing Earth body. Then I was humbled and put in awe by the expansive, non-dog-like spirit that was both joyful and grand and bound to guiding and guarding me throughout eternity. To realize that's what had been living with me has re-awakened me to the potential of who we all are as Light-beings walking the Earth.




Dearest Kodie:

I miss hugging you, the softness of your fur, your popcorn-smelling feet, taking care of you, and in the end holding you and you needing me.

October 2010

Your companionship through the years made me feel special. I'm so thankful for having had you in my life and that you are out of the stress of being in your aging body. It is also time for me to move on to finding greater companionship in the two-legged form and honoring of the specialness within myself and others who will join me on my Earth journey. Thank-you for showing me how.

2008

As I promised you, you will always be in my heart, and I will always be with you. Thank you for your unconditional love, sense of peace, presence, beauty, gentleness, patience, understanding, and wise ways -- and our continued Soul Connection.

I love you, sweetie!!!