Absolute Bliss

I took Eowyn for a walk/run at the cemetery today, which used to be me and Mango's old haunt.

Mango was my Australian Cattle Dog/Husky Mix who I had to put to sleep last July 2nd. She had lymphatic cancer and dementia and had lost too much weight. She was 14 and had been with me for 10 years. I miss her terribly, although I certainly took the time to grieve my loss, wailing like no other person I've known. On sunny Sundays, I used to lie in the grass (there's about two acres where there are no stones), and she'd run around me, checking to see whether I was still breathing on occasion. I considered that time absolute bliss, like I'd never experienced before. I get tears in my eyes when I write about it because my heart becomes bigger and heavier, but I also have the grace to keep a smile because I understand life is a cycle of birth and death. I was so fortunate to have her.

Mango after a run at the cemetery.

Eowyn's different than Mango. Whereas Mango was a wanderer who'd sometimes lose sight me of me, Eowyn is tuned into me...at all times. Her job is to please me, do what I want her to do. I suppose that's part of her breed, which I understand to be either miniature Australian Shepherd or miniature Australian Shepherd/Corgi. I tend to think it's the latter. I like both breeds, but Corgis just make me laugh. They're such stout, proud little creatures. And that's precisely what Eowyn is.

I let her run off the leash for a while, but then hooked her up because some lady and her dog were heading toward us. Eowyn immediately came to me when called. But, when the lady and her dog reached us, Eowyn turned into some wild Floridan gator, rolling and tugging and trying to get out of her collar. I wasn't sure of her intentions, and I was mildly embarrassed. The lady smiled and encouraged me to keep introducing Eowyn to more dogs. I felt just a little insulted...as if I couldn't control a 30-pound teenaged dog. I let that instance pass, pretending to be a wild duck who quacked and then flapped the water off my back.

I am still amazed that I am walking after a little over three weeks since my hip replacement. I find myself and my surgeon and the medical industry, for the most part, pretty incredible. Every time I meet someone I want to tell them about what's going on with me. I'm sure total strangers at the cemetery would just find me creepy, carrying on about how I could barely walked without a cane not too long ago. I got tired and rested several times.

One of my favorite stops along the walk was when I turned toward the sun and established a solid Mountain Pose. The wind whipped around me, Eowyn whined because she didn't understand what I was doing, and the sun gave me temporary warmth. (It's been a long winter here.) I was grateful to my yoga instructor for providing me knowledge not only about the pose but about my breath, my legs, my arms and hands, my heart, and my relationship to my surroundings. I captured the absolute bliss again...something I hadn't felt since last summer, since July 2nd.

Nothing is more important than reconnecting with your bliss. Nothing is as rich. Nothing is more real. -- Deepak Chopra