Blog: Why Act Like a Neanderthal?

August 22, 2011

Where does hostile behavior come from?

In ancient times, man (as in human beings which includes both men and women), had to defend him or herself from predators and so when he/she felt threatened would growl, show teeth, bite, hit or otherwise lash out. This aggressive behavior was a defensive mechanism meant to protect the individual from harm. Not having an aggressive personality would have put the individual in a very bad or weak position in this type of hostile environment. Thus aggressive behavior was a learned and appropriate trait for hostile environments. However, these learned traits have come down through the ages as part of our DNA. That said, even big black bears don’t attack unless provoked and can be calmed with a little honey. Wow! So something sweet can tame the savage beast? What a concept! And, it works on humans too. Try offering a treat rather than a stick and you might find more pleasant behavior waiting for you.

Are we all basically a more modern Neanderthal?

Sometimes I think so; but as a species, we have learned to moderate our behavior – that’s what being civilized is all about. Being a member of a society means we’re not feral anymore, not most of us anyway. Ever try to tame a feral dog or cat? I was told that after about 8 weeks, a kitten would be too far into being feral that they couldn’t be tamed. Well, I proved the status quo wrong. I adopted two kittens that were most probably at least 10 weeks old and with a great deal of patience, love and understanding, guided them into being household pets. (One just died after 17 years of being the most loving creature and taught me much about unconditional love. The other one, his sister is still with me. ) The same can be said of children. If we mistreat our children, even to the extent of not paying enough attention to them, overly criticizing them or in the extreme, actual abuse, it is entirely likely that they will grow up to be dysfunctional adults, totally over reacting at every potentially threatening situation.

How can we correct the unacceptable behavior?

If wild animals can be taught to behave, use the cat post for scratching rather than the curtains, and know which furniture is for them to use, then certainly with love and understanding we can teach our children to be productive members of society. This is certainly true for adults as well since children grow into adults. Thus I feel that the issue with out of control adults really starts in childhood. No, I’m not totally blaming parents for all the ills of adults – we all have to take responsibility for our own behavior at some point – but there are many situations where looking to childhood and the messages we received there have a huge impact on our current lives.

If this is you, what are your options?

First, look at your life now. Is it all it can be? Could your aggressive behavior be causing you issue? If so, take a look at what you can do to correct it. Anger management classes may be appropriate in some cases, more formal therapy may be required in others. If you’re the type of person that can be reflective, spend a weekend with a book that helps you to walk through your childhood, answer questions and meditate on the specific memories that are of real issue for you. What pushes your buttons? Often, this type of inner awareness work will reveal certain patterns that will help you to moderate your behavior into a more balanced stream and move from aggression to assertiveness. In the end, you will be a much happier person and no longer a Neanderthal.

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Learning to Get Along in the World – Being Assertive Vs. Aggressive

August 15, 2011

 

What does it mean to mature?

In one of my prior articles, I addressed just screaming to get what you wanted and indicated that such behavior only works for babies, small children and teenagers prior to their being grounded. It may also work for corporate types until they get their first performance review. In other words, acting act by yelling is a sign of immaturity which also implies that if you haven’t learned not to yell or scream every time something isn’t right in your world, well, you guessed it, you’re just not mature.

What comes next?

Proper behavior is important to moving our lives forward in a positive direction. There’s a whole set of what can be construed as behavior most becoming a young adult, an adult, and a professional. Today, I’m just going to address the difference between being aggressive and being assertive.

When we are young and our parents just tell us to “Be quiet since good children are seen and not heard,” many individuals begin to feel incapable of expressing their opinions appropriately as adults. I see this often in my coaching. Such people feel that what they have to say just isn’t important and thus they have a difficult time of getting their needs met. Now we’re on to something. Eventually, this individual gets tired of holding their unmet needs in, so to speak, and what comes out may not be pretty. Most probably, the result of parents not allowing their children to be heard when they were young, fails to foster a sense of self-worth and thus, the child and later, the adult, may go to extremes to be heard. I believe that this is the cause of work place violence, domestic abuse, and many other extremes of behavior. Is it justifiable? Of course not. Most parents are just behaving the way they thought was best for their children. I fully believe that my parents never wanted me to have trouble relating to others when they told me to,”Be quiet, we don’t want to hear your opinion”. Yet, this is what I heard growing up. It made me feel bad, just like my opinion wasn’t worth anything. And, at the time, it wasn’t valued. But later, I felt it wasn’t valued in other more public arenas as well.

It took me a very long time to figure out that I was a good person and that my opinion mattered just as much as the next person. Once this transition occurred, I had to modify my behavior. I was being a bit too pushy in trying to get my needs met initially. I was being aggressive and therefore offensive to some people. Moderating this behavior to be more socially acceptable is what assertive responses are all about.

I feel intuitively that what I experienced as a child is common among many other children of my generation since their parents told them the same thing that my parents told me. In turn, these children of depression era parents also learned that their opinions were not valued. Unfortunately, not everyone can figure out on their own that they are important, regain their self-worth, and make the transition from aggressive to assertive behavior.

How can one learn to be less aggressive and more assertive?

Here’s where getting help is important. If you can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong with your own behavior, but you do realize that there’s a problem, find appropriate help. Help may take the form of a mental health practitioner, an energy worker such as myself, or a good friend.. Don’t allow yourself to get into trouble. Do be proactive and get the proper support. Hopefully, you will eventually learn to moderate your behavior and be a much happier and more successful person.

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Want Something? Just Scream!

August 5, 2011

When we are young, and we want something we merely stand, sit or lie on the floor and scream. So it’s in our history to fuss for the things that will make us happy when we’re feeling uncomfortable. Initially, these irritations take the form of wet diapers, hunger pangs and pokes by siblings.

ScreamAs we age, the disagreeing events may get slightly more sophisticated when bullies push us around (If we don’t want to fight), our mother tells us to clean up our room, or we’re grounded for doing too much screaming! At this point, perhaps we start to get the idea that there are other ways to alleviate our issues than merely yelling when the going gets rough. Well, tell this to a teenager that wants to borrow the family car, stay out past her 10 PM curfew, or hang out with older kids.

Or, to my cat Judas, who stands in the living room and screams for what she wants. Last night I was on the phone and heard my 17 year old red tabby screaming downstairs. “Hold on”, I told my caller. “Judas, what’s wrong?” Then I realized it was time for her treat and our evening bonding in front of the TV. Though she sleeps all day, Judas wanted mommy next to her on the sofa for a few hours to pet her. Isn’t this like any family needing quality time together? Judas has her unique way of telling what she wants very clearly. Amazing isn’t it?

Perhaps quiet teenagers that go into depression should learn from Judas. It’s better to scream and be heard than commit suicide because no one paid any attention to them.

Eventually, all this screaming should turn into assertive, non-aggressive behavior in order to function in the real world. This is not an easy transition. By responding to Judas, I hope she will eventually learn that a smaller “Meow” will get my attention thus helping her to moderate her actions. Unfortunately, she found a way that works for her and she’s taught me well. Isn’t that exactly what we teach our children? Exactly, how to manipulate us? The answer is complex. If we ignore the behavior it can escalate, so that’s not a good solution.

If we try to show others that we do care and that acting out isn’t the answer, then just maybe, they might learn that a less aggressive tactic works. The healthy approach is to teach assertive behavior so that one can be a part of a community, team or work environment. What would the workplace be like if we all came in yelling for what we wanted? That said, we do know of those individuals that have to dominate team meetings, overly state their positions and intimate others to get what they want. This behavior is an extension of the screaming when they were young.

So parents, listen to your kids; kids, listen to your parents. And pet owners, listen to your pets. If we all learned to do more listening, perhaps there would be less screaming. In the end, screaming is a call for help. And, for those quiet teenagers out there, just be heard and get your needs met before you kill yourself trying.

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So Rude! Or, How Not to Date

August 2, 2011

I really wonder if people care how they sound or behave anymore. In the old days, people were taught to say something nice or not to say anything. My parents taught us to have manners! What has happened to people today? Where did their sense of themselves go? Once we are out in public, we are judged not only by our appearance, but by what comes out of our mouth, as well as our actions. Don’t they understand that when they leave their manners at home, they are simply rude? Ok, so here I go.

I’ve been interacting with single men lately and have some firsthand examples in this particular demographic of the population. I met a guy, let’s call him Tom for ease of discussion, whom I was to meet this past Sunday. We agreed to meet at a restaurant near his condominium. All he had to do was leave his apartment, come down the elevator to the ground floor, walk outside his building and go next door to the restaurant. One would think that the timing for this process would be short enough for him to make it to our meeting spot by the designated time. I had to drive to the restaurant, park the car, and walk around the corner to the location and I was right on time. Tom was late indicating a sense of self-importance. He obviously didn’t want to wait for me. Immediately this sent a message to me that he really didn’t care to be polite. Okay, so this was how the date was going to start. I knew from this first moment that it wasn’t going to go well. So, for all the guys out there, make sure you arrive before your lady or you will send a similar message. You should arrive and be waiting for your date. Don’t keep her waiting. That said, there are always extenuating circumstances. But this was a Sunday afternoon and there were none. He was just late. Tom now has one strike in my mental playbook.

We go on to the greeting. I held out my hand and put on my best smile. To his credit he not only took my hand but he pulled me towards him for a kiss on the cheek. Alright, that was a nice touch, but it felt a little out of place at our first meeting. This sent a signal to me that he really didn’t know what he was doing in terms of the energy he was sending to me. One minute he’s sending an “I really don’t care about you since I can arrive late” and the next it’s “but I can kiss you on the cheek”. Frankly, I was uncomfortable with the kiss.

The next step was to actually sit down at the table. I had already sat down at a table inside the restaurant as it was close to 100 F outside. He was after all late, and so I picked the location to sit. Rather than just leaving it at that, he actually said, “Why don’t we sit outside?” I thought it was pretty obvious that I wanted to sit inside. If I had wanted to sit outside, wouldn’t I have selected a table outside at which to wait for him? To ask me was an attempt to negate my obvious preference for his. This was another rather insensitive move on his part, and one which I took as a power play. Why does power always enter into the picture? Wow, we’d just met and a power struggle already. If it had been 10 degrees cooler I would have agreed, but I really couldn’t handle the heat so I told him, “It’s really too hot for me to be outside.” Again, having to repeat my preference made me feel even more uncomfortable.

At that point, he sat down and we went on to have an interactive discussion. This is where things got even more interesting. I found topics to ask him about such as the nature of his work and his upbringing.

Total lack of interest

He never once asked about me. As long as I was willing to continue to focus on him, he was willing to talk about himself. He showed no real interest in me. So why did he bother to meet me in the first place and then be so very insincere?

Meanwhile, he ordered an ice tea and I followed suit. When Tom decided the meeting was over at just about the hour mark, he put three $1 bills down in front of him. In a not so subtle way, Tom was telling me that he had no intention of even paying for my iced tea! The guy earned a six-figure income and couldn’t spring for $3. No matter how you feel about someone, paying for the lady is the proper thing to do, especially if the tab is just a few dollars.

To sum it all up, Tom had no manners, was totally self-absorbed and was so very rude! I wonder how others treat him since what you send out comes back to you. I’d hate to be him looking in the mirror.

 

 

 

 

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Sleeping Into Oblivion

July 28, 2011

Ever feel like sleeping all day? Sometimes it’s just a matter of being tired and needing more sleep. Other times we may really be sick and our bodies may actually need rest to rejuvenate. These are all possibilities. Another one is that you’re depressed.

When you don’t feel quite like yourself, (who else could you feel like?), you might well want to avoid contact with other people and prefer to stay by yourself. I see this behavior in my cat Judas when she’s upset about something. A cat, you say, well, yes. Cats are very sensitive creatures and my Judas is particularly so. When her brother Hercules crossed over in April, Judas’ behavior changed dramatically. Whereas before, she wandered around the house, sat on different chairs in different rooms or in the sun by the front door, she would hide in the closet or just sleep in her little bed. Mostly she started to just sleep. This has been the beginning of what I’d call her grieving stage for her brother Hercules. She’s depressed over his loss. I can really tell. For her, sleeping is a way of getting away from the world as she knows it and simply checking out. Sometimes she stands in the middle of the living room floor and just screams at the top of her lungs. I find this her way of asking, “So where is my buddy Hercules?” How many of us would like to do the same thing when stuff happens in our lives or when someone dear to us departs? It all seems so unfair. One reaction is to try to unhook from our daily activities.      

Honestly, there are lots of events besides the loss of a loved one that can cause situational depression. This is a term that captures the symptoms of depression a person exhibits due to circumstances occurring within their world or environment; a caveat to this is that the behavior is not normal for them otherwise. Thus, the situation causes them to feel depressed rather than actually being depressed.  I’m not a psychologist so I don’t diagnose, nor treat depression, but I can certainly tell when my friends that are normally pretty happy get upset about something in their lives; they may even need to take medication for awhile, but this doesn’t label them as depressed people.

Then there are people who have given up on life and are in assisted living. These people really are depressed AND they sleep all day. When I visit my hospice clients as a volunteer, they all take lots of naps. In addition, when they’re not sleeping, they have a tendency to be physically present, but appear to be mentally checked out. Thus even when they are awake, it’s not the kind of awake that you or I are used to. Sometimes I chat with them, but little gets through to their comprehension. And, in return, they will tell me something like it’s important but the words formed from their mouths are garbled versions of what their brain has conceptualized. It’s all quite sad.

So, when I look at all this sleeping going on, is it just a momentary depression or a real depression? For Judas, she got up a little while ago and came to visit me! So there’s hope for her. She seems to be coming out of her depression. I tell her that I miss Hercules too and we can help each other. Having friends provides companionship and a sense of community. Pets need people and people need other people. That’s why I visit depressed people in the hospice. It’s so that they aren’t alone for that period of time. Perhaps it will help them to not be so depressed.

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The Importance of Helping Hands (Reaching the Top Of Machu Pichu)

July 15, 2011

Peru was an amazing trip for lots of reasons. First, I had wanted to go for years but was concerned about the altitude, the local conditions (how poor the country is with the resultant possibility of crime), and pre-conceptions about my physical limitations. The website played down the amount of walking and the fact that the one mile treks were up, up, up! Granted I had been doing walks around the lake near where I live, but 45-minute casual strolls don’t compare to climbing knee-high steps at Machu Pichu for an hour to reach the top summit in time for a sunrise ceremony! So in addition to strenuous hiking on the edge of a mountain, we were doing it before day-break in dim light. On June 20, the day before the June Solstice, I made it to the top fairly well. It was a spectacular sunrise.

Climbing Machu Pichu, Peru
Machu Pichu at sunrise

But once we had done some ceremony to welcome the sun, gone back down part way to use the bathroom facilities and then gone back up again, my legs were really starting to hurt. By the afternoon, my thighs were almost paralyzed with pain making each step more and more difficult. Then, to my pleasant surprise, I began to see hands in front of my face as my much younger fellow travelers began to turn around to lend a helping hand. With each step, as I struggled to move upward, I suddenly started to feel that I was aided by divine helpers, some present and some not visible. Spirits now uplifted, my steps were lightened as I felt that I not only had physical help but angelic help as well. A smile spread on my face. Positive self talk replaced the menacing thoughts of, “What if I can’t make it, how will I ever get back down alone?” Now my mind was filled with, “Yes, I can do this, with a little help from my friends.”

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Whatever concerns us shows up!

June 13, 2011

Do you like scary movies? What constitutes scary? Remember Indiana Jones, Temple of Doom when the female lead sees snakes all over the ground? It was her greatest fear materializing. Or perhaps for you, it’s a fear of the dark. Or maybe it’s a fear of high places. If so, ever have a dream about falling? It’s natural to have “fears”, since fears are an extension of concerns. The real question is what we do about them. Do we hold them “in” to fester or do we get control over them. Otherwise, fears can take over and cause havoc in our lives.

An example:

Here’s a recent example of how one of my fears played out. My darling male cat, Hercules went through two traumatic months prior to succumbing to the complications of renal failure on April 5. The decision to end his life after 17 wonderful years was devastating for me. Life without Hercules was sterile since the little guy was my alarm clock for many daily activities. He told me when to get up (with a swat in the face), and he cried on my bed when he thought it was time to go to sleep. He even told me when it was time for a break, which normally involved giving him some affection as well as play time. I soon realized I was afraid of life without my little angel.

But why should I feel this way when there was so much more to live for! The rational mind tells us all the logical reasons why our fear is, well irrational! However, we don’t listen, not at first anyway. I fixated on my memories of my fur baby using my time to make photo albums, memory cards to send out to friends and a 3-photo framing for the wall. Once this time went by, I realized that I was concerned about his resting place. I buried his ashes next to a rock near his favorite play area just inside the park area adjacent to my townhome.

A few weeks later, a registered package came by way of FedEX. Around midnight I opened the package to learn that the local Park Association planned to restore the stream and one of the tributaries ran right by Herc’s burial spot. I immediately became alarmed. “Oh, no, what if they disturb Herc’s resting place!” I thought. This fear began to grow until I was very agitated.

What’s the lesson here?

I stood back and asked myself, “Is this issue a lesson that I shouldn’t hold on to a place that just has ashes when I know that Herc’s soul is everywhere?” or, “Is the lesson that I shouldn’t worry and just turn the whole issue over for a divine solution?  I came to understand that the latter was the case. Then, I got hold of myself saying, “No, I will send the project manager an email and surely the work can be done in such a way as to avoid trampling on his remains.” I wrote up my concerns, found a couple of pictures of Hercules, one of me performing his celebration of life ceremony, and sent it to the association project manager.

The result:

The very next day she called me to say she was coming out to see for herself which “rock” was involved. We met, she looked at “Herc’s rock”, and then indicated that she understood the sensitivity of the situation. In a very sincere gesture, she assured me that a notation would be made on the blueprints, so that when the stream restoration work is done, Herc’s rock would not be disturbed! Yeah! It all worked out just fine, for the highest good of all concerned. Perhaps the Association will eventually call that rock, Hercules’ Rock. Somehow the thought made me smile.

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Five Days Without My Baby

April 17, 2011

It’s been five days since my little boy Hercules crossed over Rainbow Bridge. Since then, there’s no one to wake me in the morning, so I sleep too much. I awaken tearful and my heart in pain without his dear touches on my face, “Mommy it’s time to get up”. There’s no one to interrupt me during the day to say, “Stop and let me love you”, so I just keep working and working. There’s no one to say, “Feed me, I’m hungry”, so I don’t realize that I’ve gone all day without eating as food doesn’t seem important. There’s no one to tell me to sit and watch TV so we can be together on the sofa, so I feel isolated in my aloneness. Hercules isn’t here to say, “Mommy, come to bed now. I want you to sleep with me”, so I stay up too late. And the cycle goes on. My life has a huge hole in it. I have to learn to manage my own life rather than have it managed by my love for this little angel that left me.

Hercules, when did it happen that you grew up from being such a little baby to getting so old and dying? Is this what it’s like to see children age? I’ve never had children so I’ve never had the experience of seeing children grow up. Hopefully, most parents don’t have to endure the passing of their own children. With pets, they just don’t live that long. But 17 years is close to 1/3 of my life. Hercules lived with me through the end of my marriage, through my divorce and through the years since. He’s weathered my trials and tribulations and he’s been a trooper through it all.

There were times when I wasn’t as patient as I should have been with his constant demand for attention. Sometimes, when I was working in my study, I would tell him, “Not now, Mommy has to work.” Isn’t this what parents do, thinking that there will be more time when they can be together?” There comes a point, when time runs out.

Last year when he lost a tooth I realized that the time just might be running out and I began to thank God every day for each additional day we had together. Every day I held my angel in my arms and told him how much I loved him. He knew every day how much he was loved until the dementia clouded his mind. Then I think he still knew somewhere inside. Even on the last day when he walked around in circles, he still wanted to be with me, have me hold him and so it was a good day. The final moments were good. He ate well and yet we both knew it was time for him to pass on.

As I sit here typing this note, I’m crying for my baby. But now he talks to me in my head. He tells me, “Mommy, don’t cry. I’m ok. Mommy, go out and play. I don’t want you to be sad. I have lots of friends here to play with. It’s a nice place. Please be happy. Enjoy your life. I will watch over you now as you did for me all those years. I love you Mommy. “

I love you too Hercules. I hope that God is looking out for you and keeping you in the light. You are a dear angel and I know that if it’s possible, you are looking out for me.

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Final Farewell – Saying Good-bye to a Pet is so Very Hard

April 11, 2011

My darling angel Hercules was laid to rest Thursday April 7 at 2pm in a lovely garden ceremony near my home in Reston, VA. We chose his favorite play area, which we called his bunker, to bury his ashes. As I’m a minister, I conducted a full pet memorial program complete with music, saging the site, appropriate prayers, verses and those present offering remembrances of Hercules. He was held in high esteem by all who knew him as a very lovable guy. Even my coaching clients would often enjoy having him on their laps during sessions and stated that he improved their experience. His energy was wonderful. I know God was with us during the ceremony, as it was a most beautiful and warm day, with the days proceeding and after rainy and cold. How could it have been otherwise when one of God’s own angels is returned to him?

Hercules laid to rest

Hercules was brought to me by God in July, 1994 after I had prayed for cats to show up on my property to keep me company. My prior pet had died about five years prior and I was lonely for a companion. I only had to wait 4 months when these little babies showed up. Hercules got his name by being the first to come to me and allow my touch – so he was the brave one. His sister, Judas was the sneaky one. (She is still with me and I have to remember to give her extra love as she wonders where he’s gone.) So God brought Hercules to me as my little angel for 17 years, and as he was only a gift, he was returned to God on Tuesday April 5 at 4:25pm.

Hercules loved me unconditionally and I loved him in return; in fact, I had to love him enough to let him go. It was the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. But let me say this. Now that I’m back in my logical mind, I realize that he was fighting to stay alive because he knew I was grieving. The signs of his severe deterioration were there, but I kept telling myself – just one more intervention and he’ll be ok. Eventually, I knew it was enough and together we made the decision over this past weekend. Somehow he knew, because Monday night he was more like his old self. He ate better, seemed more alert, and slept with me under the covers like he used to do prior to getting so sick. We had a very good last day.

Bless you Hercules. I couldn’t have loved you more and you couldn’t have loved me more. I learned never to let a day go by without telling you how much I loved you. I’m so glad that I did. You truly were a blessing, one that will remain in my heart all the days of my life.

Good-bye my angel. May God keep you safe in his divine light.

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When it’s time for a pet to go

April 8, 2011

How much life is enough?

When deciding when to let a beloved pet go, one must consider their quality of life over one’s own feelings. This is an extremely difficult thing to do and a trial on which I was tested this past weekend.

For nearly two-months my dear cat Hercules was battling with chronic renal failure including anemia, dementia, possibly tumors and a host of other ailments. We would get one of his major issues under control and then another would pop up. He was on fluids for the renal failure which I learned to administer. Then his red blood cell count took a nose dive and thrice weekly shots were required. He needed four different medications twice daily and some natural remedies which I found to be helpful. All this I learned to deliver in as reasonable manner as possible, partly through trial and error. Which meds could be taken together and given in one syringe? Which ones tasted funny thus requiring a bit of ground up food be mixed in to camouflage the taste? I experimented until I had worked out a program that took about 2 hours in the morning and about 1.5 hours in the evening.

Hercules

I curtailed my own activities to make sure I was home in time to do the evening medical program, including having my birthday dinner at 4pm so that I could be available. I didn’t mind taking care of my little darling. After all, for nearly 17 years he’d given me love, companionship, and reminded me when it was time to go to bed and often woke me in the morning. “Mommy, get up and feed me.” “Mommy, pet me.” “Mommy put food in my bowl.” Often, I’ve hear him outside my home letting me know he wanted to come in and then he’d cry to tell me he wanted to go outside. He was a great communicator. Unfortunately, once he got sick, he lost his voice. Or perhaps, he was too weak to use it.

 When the time comes:

During one of our several emergency room visits, the attending veterinary technician gave me some advice. Having just put her dog down, she said in response to my question of, how do you know when it’s the right time? “When there are more bad days than good ones.”  Then she added, “Be sure to pick a good day.”  Her words kept ringing in my head. I was evaluating my pet’s life. Was his situation bad enough to end his life?

 When yet another crisis occurred over the weekend, I had to face the reality. The pattern of problems was a sign of the inevitable. It was like putting one’s finger in the dam. Eventually, it wouldn’t hold the flood of water back. Hercules loved me so much that he was stoically dealing with the needles, the meds being popped in my mouth, the forced feedings because he knew I was grieving. I was crying so much. I didn’t want to let go.

 There’s a sense among pet owners that one more intervention will get the pet over the mountain and on the other side with renewed strength and vigor. And, sometimes the new medicine or protocol does buy weeks or months of life. But for my Hercules, the non-stop care bought him 7 weeks of added life. However, I realized that he had no real quality in that life. Sure, he was alive. He could walk down the stairs, but no longer up (his heart wouldn’t take it). He could lie in the sun at the foot of the stairs, which he enjoyed. However, I had to watch him constantly or he would end up in the lower level just sitting on the bathroom mat since he couldn’t walk back up again. Sometimes he’d eat on his own, and sometimes I had to force him. He hated being force fed.

 Then there was the dementia. He could have a can of food sitting right in front of him and he wouldn’t realize it. I had to constantly put the food under his nose and then he would eat some. This meant that I had to be there or he wouldn’t eat. If I had to go out of the house for a few hours, it would be hours that he wasn’t eating. So my schedule totally revolved around him. When did he need his fluids? When did he need to eat? I didn’t mind caring for him, but it was limiting for me. He was my baby and I loved him. That said, I finally had to let go. God had given this little angel to me and it was time for me to love him enough to stand back and let him go to his peace.

 I had a talk with him over the weekend and we agreed. It would be Tuesday when his regular vet came back to the animal hospital. Somehow he must have known, since we had a wonderful day together. He ate more, seemed more like his old self and slept under the covers with me. But I agonized over the decision right up to the last moment. At the vet’s, I was crying horribly. Then a sense of calm came over me. Hercules and I knew it was the time. We both were ready. The vet gave him an anesthesia and within seconds he put his little head down and that was it. He was out. The vet told me he was ready. He was at peace.

 My little darling Hercules passed at 4:25 pm April 5. I stayed with him for about 20 minutes until I realized the body on the table was no longer Hercules. He was gone to Rainbow Bridge to wait for me. Upon coming home I I lit a candle to celebrate his life and said prayers. May God’s light shine on him forever. And so it is. Amen.

 Here is the poem about Rainbow Bridge:

There is a bridge connecting heaven and earth
It is called Rainbow Bridge because of its many colours

Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows,
hills, valleys with lush green grass

When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this special place
There is always food and water and warm spring weather

The old and frail are young again
Those who are maimed are made whole again

They play all day with each other
There is only one thing missing

They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth
So each day they run and play until the day comes
when one suddenly stops playing and looks up !

The nose twitches !
The ears are up !
The eyes are staring !
And this one suddenly runs from the group !

You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet,
you take him or her into your arms and embrace
your face is kissed again and again,
and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet

Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated

Author Unknown

2 Comments | Caregiving, loss of a pet, Spirituality, The Circle of Life - A Journey Through Grief to Understanding, universal principles | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by intuitivelifecoachjoanne

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