This morning, Jango had a stroke/seizure.
It was slated to be a day like any other day. Wake up. Work. Play. Chill. Sleep. Until it turned on a dime. I had just finished an energy session and taken a long walk outside on a chilly but perfect fall day.
When I came inside to fix some food, the phone rang. It was Jim, and he rarely calls… we text during his workday if we need to chat. His words will ring in my head forever. “Something happened to our buddy. He can’t stand up, and his eyes are jumping all over the place. What do I do?”
Before this, the morning was great. When I got up, I was greeted by two happy dogs jumping up for attention. Breakfast? Normal. Toy squeaks? Normal. Everything began as a regular day, with lots of playful barking, tons of snuggles, and a whole lot of pets.
Suddenly, we had a decision to make.
After a lot of tears during a very short phone call, we decided Jim would bring him home so that we could decide next steps together. A year ago, I would have freaked out and been on the phone trying to speak about something I didn’t yet understand. Flailing and trying to help before I even had the necessary details. Today, I feel so much more in alignment, and I understand my connection to our dogs is something deeply felt with no need for words. I felt peace outside of my profound pain, and I knew it was a message from Jango.
I waited for Jim to get home, and when the door opened, I heard a weird scuffling sound. I saw Jim walking toward me, and behind him was a smiling, stumbling Jango. More tears. But happy ones somehow. Grateful for even one more moment. We sat on the floor, and Jango came over and sat beside me (a strange behavior for him.) Bless him for that incredible gift. We sat and we snuggled. Nothing else mattered.
We decided to give the moment time to breathe, like a fine wine. We took him outside on the grass, to sit in the breeze and ground on the earth. I set up some chairs under his favorite tree, but he wanted to take a walk. So we did. The three of us, together. We walked and Jango stumbled around the yard for a half hour, and with every trip and fall this incredible dog got stronger. He even scared a rabbit our of hiding and then followed the scent. All of this with a gigantic, knowing smile. Jango was happy.
His eyes betrayed him when a worker came into the yard. He heard the movement but barked in the opposite direction. We came inside calmer and decided to watch him for a couple of hours. He already had an appointment at the vet slated for tomorrow. And I knew what he wanted more than sitting in an ER waiting room all day was to be outside on the ground. No doubt about it.
He slept for an hour and we headed back outside, and I was absolutely shocked by what I witnessed. He still stumbled and fell several times, but he chased Zorii out of the house and into the field as if life was normal. His falling didn’t phase him. The two friends played for a short while and then wandered the wild together. I am sure he showed Zorii where the bunny had been hiding earlier, telling her how he almost caught it. After their romp, he searched the garden for leftover tomatoes, sniffed around the herbs ,and ate some sweet grass.
As I sat and watched all of this unfold, I realized he was teaching me something so profound that I nearly missed it. He had suffered a serious and traumatic incident a few hours before this, and yet he was in his element now… sniffing, smiling, and running around as if all was well.
He was absolutely showing me what life can be like when we live in present moment. He did his work as guide of our small pack, protecting Zorii by peeing on her pee and making sure all of us were safe.
I was the only one who saw the head ticks and eye rolling, the stumbling and falling down. I saw a problem, a defect while he lived his best life, undeterred by the morning’s trauma. Never was he thinking, “Dang, I wish my legs worked.” or “I can’t see straight.” or “My body is failing me. I want to give up.” Nope. He had his best day in the best way he knew.
This twelve-year-old Aussie has taught me more about living life then I could ever read in a book. He lives in the moment and has no regrets, guilt, shame, or embarrassment over his “condition.” He is Jango, and he is happily taking it all in as it comes and never thinking about what “could have been” or what “should be”.
Thanks, J-Bird. You are, will be, and always have been special.
xoxo
Kim
PS - We had an aromatics session with our family’s favorite, Pink Lotus Absolute. He tried several times and was determined to get in his favorite chair, hovering over the aroma on the towel. He just had a full shake off, too. First success since the morning.
The article was written Tuesday evening, the day Jango had his stroke. It is Wednesday in the late morning. We came in from our walk, and Jango has improved significantly. He goes for a check up in a couple of hours. While he still has lingering signs of what happened physically, his spirit is that of a puppy and his huge smile speaks volumes about his emotions. I am in awe of his resilience and presence in this world even more today.
Sending love to you all - well done - the lessons just keep coming! Taking Jango outside was perfect and took any panic away. Enjoy the moment. x