twilight

twilight: between daylight and darkness; a period or state of obscurity, ambiguity, or gradual decline (Oxford American Dictionary) 

Part 1: Max

My two old Jack Russell terriers are in their “twilight years.” Max, a bit farther along than Casper. And yet there are days when I’m not sure how much longer I will have Casper. 

Max is 15 and currently fighting an infection in one of his teeth. Since he is not a good candidate for surgery (due to his age and the development of a heart murmur) we are fighting the infection with a 3-week cycle of oral antibiotics dispensed every 12 hours with care and patience by dear Joanne (as I hold him). Hopefully this will work. If the antibiotics don’t clear up the infection then he’ll have to have surgery to remove the tooth . . . and we’ll just hope for the best. 

He’s not been eating well for about the last month or so and is down to 11 pounds. (at his healthiest he weighed around 14). The weight loss hasn’t happened all at once - it’s been a gradual thing. Now when I lift him up, he is as light as a small cat. Due to worsening digestive issues he’s moved from his “EN” (gastronenteric kibble) to boiled rice and ground chicken (cage free, of course). An off-hand comment from my wonderful vet (who has cared for Max since he was a pup) led us to give him a dollop of plain yogurt with his meals, which he loves. The added benefit of the yogurt allows us to hide the metamucil and dose of flagyll he must take. When he recently started refusing the chicken/rice mixture, we switched to ground beef and rice - a decision that goes against my personal “no beef or pork” policy. But it’s for Max. And he’s been eating a bit better, so it’s worth it. 

Twilight: obscure and and ambiguous; a gradual decline

Part II: Casper

Casper is around 13, though I’m not exactly sure. I’ve had him since I adopted him in November of 1998 while living in Los Angeles. He was a rescue, so little is known about him. His head tilts to the side (although in this picture, he’s holding it quite straight!) Two possible explanations were given for his slanted posture. The first is that he was pulled by the head. But when our neighbor in LA (a chiropractor) checked him out and aligned him, he felt there was nothing wrong with his neck. The other explanation was that he was either struck in the left side of his head, or he had an untreated ear infection. The facial muscles on the left side of his face are a bit atrophied, and his ear doesn’t sit on his head in quite the same way as his right one. Still, he has always been and will always be a complete love bug; always happiest when sitting next to me or on our pack walks.

Last summer, when I put up a couple of goldfinch feeders, he sat on the porch and watched them as they gathered to eat. Due to a gradual hearing loss he couldn’t really hear their sweet chirps but he really enjoyed watching them. This summer he is completely deaf and now only partially sighted. No bird watching now. He is really pretty healthy; except, some mornings he has these “spells” where his legs and head convulse and spasm and he loses his balance and walks around the yard like a little drunk, his legs giving out on him as he falls to the ground. These episodes last about a half hour after which he is completely fine. These spells can’t be treated and are just part of the process of his declining years.

Twilight: between daylight and darkness

Epilogue

This is a sweet, sad time for me. They could be with me for another year or two! Or, this could be their last summer. Small, scrappy dogs have a way of hanging in there, I’m told. But still. I can’t know for sure, so these “twilight days” are precious to me. I am committed to enjoying them, and accompanying and assisting them in their dignified, steady decline. No need to pity them. No. Ceasar (Millan) would not approve, after all! They don’t need pitying, anyway. What’s to feel bad about? THEY certainly aren’t feeling sorry for themselves. They live in the now, and their now is actually pretty good! Or at least that’s my goal for them - to make sure they are comfortable, and to let them know they are loved and cherished.


Anyone with an elderly pet can identify with all of this and worse! For those of you who don't have pets, forgive me for this indulgence. 


But as they have accompanied me through these difficult couple of years, I am keenly aware of my role in their lives as they journey toward the end of their days. We are drifting through these lazy summer days, my "boys" and I; drifting through the daylight into the darkness and beyond . . . 

stand still

It is the simplest directive, and the hardest thing to do. But God promises to fight for us if we only stand still (Exodus 14:14, paraphrase). I am restless these days. Very. And the heat hampers any kind of outdoor activity - like gardening, or walking the dogs, or simply BEING outside.  

So I am trying, desperately, to be still. And I know that if I can be still, I will know God, because God is surely in this stillness (Psalm 46:10). This is what I cling to. This is what I need to hold onto and believe with all my heart. God is fighting for me. I need only be still. 

My life has been running full tilt since last Fall, when I entered seminary while continuing to work full time at my parish as a music minister. The semester is over, and as of June 26th I am not only unemployed (having left my job) but bereft of a faith community.

No wonder I am restless.

This is not a new place for me. No, it is very familiar territory. I’d like to think that each time I find myself here I am a bit wiser, maybe? A bit more patient, kind, and gentle with myself? 

My friend Mike has made some good friendships with a few of the monks who live in community at the Abbey of the Genesee. He said that when life is just too much (or too little), the monks’ recommend that we simply “abide” in whatever state our life is in. That’s great advice, isn’t it? And so very hard to follow. But what we, what I forget, is that we’re never in this alone. We have - always on our side -  a mighty Protector, Advocate, and Champion. Some One who will always, always have our backs.

So I will, with God’s grace, stand still, and ponder, and abide in this restlessness. I will meditate on the good things - those trials which my Good God has brought me through. And I will let God take care of fighting the thoughts and feelings that trouble me. Oh yes, there are many - those who are close to me know. 

The things that trouble me I have no control over. I have no power to fight the thoughts that lay in wait, ready to ensnare my heart and bring me down. So I will stand still in the truth of who I am, and let God do the fighting.