|Mowgli enjoying „olfactory fireworks“|
"Dogs are not our whole life , but they make our lives whole." (Roger Caras)
What is this so familiar smell? Well, it was Mowgli's breakfast. Two or three days ago I started smelling something very familiar, which at first I could not pin point.
We started feeding him raw food earlier this year. It had a very distinctive smell. Even now that I am writing this, it is with me. I feel comforted and a bit amused. At times it seems like eons that he is gone, and I am totally okay with it, but other times it seems impossible. I am not expecting this to change any time soon. When I see someone who asks about Mowgli, I tend to tear up. Everyone has been very kind acknowledging his passing with cards, talks and hugs; thank you all for your kindness.
It has been almost four weeks, short and long at the same time.
(An article may follow about his last day; he became part of this blog because he enjoyed and benefited from reflexology, and because he added so much beauty to our lives).
- At the event (New York Open Center) were also an animal communicator and a psychic whom the author had invited and met on her path as a journalist investigating questions surrounding her dog Brio'.... . I expected a reading of Soul Dog. The room was packed. People brought a photo of their pets, alive and/or deceased and were interested in knowing more about them. I decided to not participate. I did not want to lose it in a room full of people I did not know. Instead I was listening and watching.
This afternoon Mowgli's olfactory greetings were very strong, and I was constantly distracted from a paper I was working on. So I officially got annoyed at Mowgli posthumously for the first time, I said to Regal, half jokingly, and then teared up again.
But yet I asked what it could mean that this is the way he is connecting with me? Is he saying hi and telling me that he liked his breakfast? As he got older he became a more mindful eater. Often he paused midway to look over his shoulder at me, knowing that I approved of him eating slowly. He also watched me prepare his breakfast which took a while, because I mixed everything very thoroughly which stimulated saliva production and from time to time resulted in a little puddle. We
both liked this routine after our time in the park.
For both, Regal and I, Mowgli was the first full time dog as adults. Luigi, Mowgli's predecessor only visited in the winter for two months.
We miss Mowgli so much. I was in awe of Mowgli, and we often spoke about what a gift he was, how funny he was, etc. Above all he remained a mystery. He was rarely a chore. Walks on chilly, rainy, hot days were an adventure. NYC snow days were an absolute favorite of ours. He was a family member and full of grace, spunk and surprise, he was a great wrestler. He was much loved not just by us but some of our neighbors, too. He often “co-hosted” the Holiday Bash in the lobby of our building.
We are very grateful that our friends were open to him and did not seem to mind sharing the backseat of the car, our couches with him
When we drove to NC just a few days before Mowgli's death, we listened to an interview with Alexandra Horowitz (see link below) according to whom dogs like sticking their heads out the car window because of olfactory fireworks not because they liked the breeze. Mowgli would put his head on our shoulders to remind us to open the windows. I have many photos of him enjoying these fireworks.
Is Mowgli now teasing me with "olfactory fireworks" in form of his raw dog food?
The pain is sometimes for moments almost unbearable; I am not ashamed to admit it and neither are any of my friends or fellow dog parents whom I have spoken to recently who have lost pets. I am taking the liberty to add some of their names in this post, because I have been thinking about them and their parents. They are missed by their parents and human and canine friends.
|Mowgli - above all also a mystery...|
To heartwarming memories above all.
Thank you for your visit as usual.
"Dogs are not our whole life , but they make our lives whole." (Roger Caras),