Undoing

Mr. O.B.Z. Sparkles, May 22, 2006 - September 25, 2006












Mr. O.B.Z. Sparkles, son of Bambi, brother of Litha, Cali, and Calico wasn’t with us very long, but his sweetness matched Louie Louie’s and was noted by our vet when we made the decision to help him leave his body.

This is the first time I’ve gone to the veterinary hospital and sat in the “comfort room” and held a being while the medicine was administered. He was gone within a second, so near to death was he. I recognized the signs, including the little pale ears. I made the choice because he was suffering with breathing terribly. And too I had the sense he was ready.

I have, at the same time, been besieged with regret. Regret that I didn’t track his illness more carefully. After his initial recovery, I sent him home to be with his clan at my neighbors’. His crying said to me that he was longing to be back with his mom and sisters and the rest of the gang that hangs there. The ones at my house were hissing and bossing a lot. He wanted to play, but they didn’t.

What I didn’t know was that within a day or two, his mother and sisters avoided him. That would have been a clue that he was much more ill than we thought. By the time my neighbors called me again, he was very ill again. I didn’t feel hopeful when I went back to the vet.

Another regret: I left him hospitalized. His breathing was so labored and I still hoped for recovery. These pictures don’t show his sparkle, but he had been lively and playful up until he got ill. He was also affectionate with people, so was especially dear to us.

Our vet decided to retest for feline leukemia. He had gotten a clear test some weeks before, but on a hunch he did. Indeed, this little guy had FeLV and only %15 red blood cells, non-regenerative. Bad news. And with the serious upper respiratory condition, it was clear we were faced with choosing what seemed most comforting. With great reluctance and agony, I chose euthanasia.

I felt undone. I felt responsible. I couldn’t see how Mr. Sparkles and I and the vet were deciding this together. I blamed myself for not keeping closer contact after his three days in the infirmary at my house. I wept and wailed before and after.

When I was with him, however, in those last moments, I felt calm and present. I sang to him and anointed him with oil, and called on the ones who have gone before and Kuan Yin to make his journey easy and smooth. He left easily, but I can’t say I had a clear sense of the rightness of it. Just the Is-ness of it. I sat longer with his little body, encouraging his leaving, and feeling the warmth of the body dissipate.

I wrapped the body in saffron silk I had dyed and some sparkle thread and left it there. At home, I made the pictures I make for the altar, lit a candle, and put together a playlist of songs called “Sparkles” and cried some more.

When my friends hear me undone with grief, some wonder aloud if I want to continue with providing care for so many cats. It’s true that this year is marked by a number of cat deaths, to the point I found myself saying to a friend who has known them, “I think that happened when Chata died.” And she said, “No, I think it was when Monkey Gurl died.”

But, who would I say no to? And though it may not be easy to see or understand, I trust the teachings that come from this experience. I am learning responsiveness while relinquishing responsibility. The former is based on trusting we are not separate and that intelligence runs through us all, that Awareness is shining out of all eyes. The latter increases identity and separation.

Sharon wrote to me, “We must let life undo us over and over...the undoing is the opening of the heart.” Yes. I know this to be true. I marvel again at the willingness of all beings to serve one another. I happen to believe it is intentional, but even if it isn’t, this undoing Mr. O.B.Z. Sparkles stimulated in me is a great gift that helps loosen more of the binding of identity bound up in the notion of “I”.

As Sharon noted, he touched many in his short time here. This last year has been an unexpected time of learning to follow and trust what is happening, to undo the notion of imposing action.

Fly free, Mr. Sparkles. Let the light within you guide you Home.