40 mph greyhound, award-winning athlete and
Canine incarnation of Buddha himself, dies in Houston, Texas
I whisper, my fourteen year old friend and another canine to
the last nine years, died this morning in my hands.
It reminds me, as it often happens to me when an animal friend dies, of
a story from a small town vet:
Belker was a ten-year-old Blue Heeler, much loved by his
owners and their four year old son. Belker had cancer and
there was no miracle to save him. The local vet made
arrangements to go to his house and euthanize Belker.
The owners wanted their son Shane to witness how
Belker to sleep. Maybe I can learn something.
Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time.
time, they wondered if he understood what was going on
us. Within minutes, Belker slipped away peacefully.
The boy seemed to accept Belker’s death without any
difficulty or confusion They sat together for a while
wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives
shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening silently, said, “I know
why. “
Startled, they all turned to him. What came out of your
the mouth stunned them next: they had never heard another word
comforting explanation.
Shane said, “Everyone is born so that they can learn to
live a good life, how to love everyone and be kind,
truth? “The four-year-old continued,” Well, the animals already
they know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay that long. “
Whisper had mastered “Love everyone and be kind”
long before i put it on. He was her name, silent as a
Whisper. I can count on two hands the times that I heard it
bark. But he could give a look that spoke a thousand barks,
and threw me more than one trip to the dog house. Hey
It was dignity incarnate, a little shy and wise beyond
knowledge. Me and everyone who knew him, we love him.
The voice told me to adopt a greyhound. sometimes I have
messages inside my head. Shocked by directive to adopt
a dog (at the time I thought of myself as a cat person),
I found myself at Greyhound Pets of America Houston looking
for a retired runner. I had already seen several beautiful
dogs that I liked, when I asked to meet five-year-old Whisper.
Immediately out of his cage, he ran lickety-split through the
long line of kennels to shed his lanky black body up
look out of a porthole window. A minute later he turned and
He sprinted straight at me; threw its front paws at me
shoulders and looked me in the eye. I knew Whisper was a
signature of the gods and, that day, we became a family.
During our long walks through the prestigious north and
South boulevards, people stopped to admire its elegant well
looks: dark black fur with a blazing white star on its
chest, short white socks on the feet and a soft white toe
to its long whipped tail. In winter we would trample
Herman Park, where he strutted in a black fleece
jacket and long black belt. Whisper stopped traffic
wherever we went.
He was more handsome when he met a new dog friend.
He would remain motionless, his chest held high. His long ears
pointing up and its equally long tail arching back
and up. What a handsome and attractive dog he was.
Whisper was going to work with me soon. He would snuggle in
her bed in the corner of my massage room. Some clients cam
to see him as much as me. I was so serene and still and
quiet. I called him my dog Buddha. Peace just seemed
flow from it. When he was agitated, he stroked me with his
long cold snout and remind me to stroke it … and relax.
Whisper’s greatest gift to me was his ability to
be. When I took the time to study it, I was impressed
how easy it was for him to BE his true self. A dog that
he walked, ran and slept when he wanted; a friend who
I showed kindness and care when I needed it most; a being that
demanded that I turn my focus away from my selfish self and pay
attention to something, to anything else, to HIM, usually. Hey
taught me responsibility, the basic art of doing what is necessary
to finish. Walk with him. Feed him. I love him. Even when my ego
I preferred to indulge my self-absorption, Whisper taught me,
“It’s not just about me. It’s about all of us, other people,
our animal friends, and the song heaven / earth that surrounds us “.
My first Koan, the Japanese Zen Cosmic Riddle, asks, “Isn’t it?
does a dog have Buddha nature? “My mind will never grasp the
answer. But my big heart just has to remember Whisper, a
master of being your true / unique self, knowing, “Yes!” Dogs,
like all things, they have Buddha nature. To be (Wu) is to be.
It is everywhere I am conscious. Every time i’m my
true me, I am Whisper, I am Big Mind, I am Buddha nature.
Whisper’s legs had gotten shaky and his hips were quite weak.
these last few years. I had already lived a couple of years
beyond the life expectancy of a large dog and a retired runner.
I like to think of all those years sleeping at the foot of
my massage table, or curled up next to me while
meditated, kept him healthy and whole.
Yesterday he slipped in the kitchen and couldn’t get
until. Its hind legs would not support it. Jim, my husband and I
had to take him outside. I’d walk a few shaky steps
stop and proceed cautiously, or fall … there was no way to
to know. I spent much of the night (and the morning) in the
floor next to him. I hugged him, caressed him and thanked him
for all the many gifts of friendship he had given me.
In the whisper of the vet he seemed serene to his destiny. There was
nothing else to do for him. Shaved leg and port in
resting place, alert, head held high, ears at attention, eyes
wise and comforting. I held its long snout in my palms like
Dr. Michelle pumped the soft death into her veins. He gave
each of us one last look, closed his eyes and died. Moments
later I let his head rest on the pallet. In death he looked
elegant, as always; He had a beautiful way of snuggling
his long body an elegant line, his ears surprisingly still
he was careful.
Whisper had one more gift for me. I felt the shell that I have
carefully built to protect my big heart, breaking
wide open. As I surrendered to the vastness of our
friendship together, I cried. I trusted the pain that I felt
just as I trusted my heart that it opened to me.
He was sincere and dedicated, as always, until the end.
Thank you, Whisper, my teacher, my friend Buddha.