what he taught me – essential life lessons from a dog

This is the second and final entry on the loss of our dog, “Action” Jackson, somewhat suddenly last September. The first entry, “only a dog,” was a bit raw, written the morning after he died and tried to look very directly at that experience. Here’s a link to that post if you’d like to look back: https://oldbonesnewsnow.com/2022/11/20/just-a-dog-on-the-loss-of-a-true-heart-friend/

This is more of a reflection on the many lessons Jack taught me in his life and in his dying. I’ve long felt that dogs can be true Bodhisattvas, essentially enlightened beings returning to this plane of Samsara to help us floundering humans move toward our own enlightenment and that of all sentient beings.

Jackson was a Bodhisattva.

a day with a new ball is truly an exceptional day
an exceptional day




what he taught me

that concrete is always cold

     and hard

that a stranger may come to embody home

     yet fear may always linger

that each of us wants to be loved

     but in a very particular way

that it takes great patience

     to uncover that way

that trust grows slowly

     but may come to have deep roots

that deep roots

     are the source of all joy

that a day with a new ball

     is truly an exceptional day

that a day with no ball at all

     is just as exceptional

that mountain trails

     are mainly meant for dogs

that no lake is ever too cold

     for a swim

that it’s entirely unclear

     which one of us was rescued

that brown eyes in a black dog face

     are a form of grace

that grace

     is the music of the soul

that watching out for each other

     is a full-time job

that the most vigilant watchers

     must eventually fail

that even if we think we’re prepared for death

     it comes suddenly without warning

that death tears a jagged hole

     in everything

that the pain of this tearing is crushing

     without end

that all of this pain counts as nothing

     compared to the love of a very good dog

that I will be forever rich

     for having shared his life

that from now on my life

will be smaller

that in my next life he will be waiting

     just as I waited fifty years for him in this one

that it would best if I arrived in that next life

     carrying a brand-new ball

just a dog – on the loss of a true heart friend

In late September, our beloved dog Jackson suddenly died from a ruptured spleen. We rushed him into surgery, but his heart didn’t survive the blood loss. While he was “just a dog,” this ten year old rescue was my true heart friend.

A small example – when I fell ill in March, Jack wouldn’t leave my side, sleeping next to me every night while I was on oxygen. When I’d wake in the darkness unable to breath, I could reach down and feel him there, calm and warm.

I can longer do that.

I process by writing, so here is the first of two pieces I wrote around the loss of Jax. It was written the morning after he died.

This speaks to the gift and the pain of holding him as he died.

I will always miss him.

He will always be my bright and shining boy.

just a dog


I prayed to the gods of several heavens
to permit me to bring him home,

to give us some time - a day
an hour, a moment 
of peace before parting.

but the gods are either deaf or dumb            
or dead.

he’d always been so warm, his soft black fur 
a perfect place to bury a face. 

but here, he was so very cold.
I'd promised to keep him safe

but I failed.

they said he couldn’t hear us,
that he wasn’t conscious. 

yet as we held him, 
stroked his velvet ears 
and repeated our familiar words 
of praise and love,

his agitated, damaged heart slowed                 
   by a third,
     and then more.         

his heart stopped      
     and then mine.

the indifferent gods

only let us bring his collar 
   home.

I’ve written before of the privilege of loving this old dog –

https://oldbonesnewsnow.com/2021/03/07/wordless-love-the-sweet-experience-of-loving-an-old-dog/