Mocha

What a rich juxtaposition of experience this past 36 hours has been.  I put my sweet little Mocha, 13 years old and 6.2#, down yesterday at an emergency hospital in the Pearl in Portland.  She was a diabetic for 9 years, and her little body wore out.

Mocha

Mocha

The sadness and grief of helping a beautiful creature transition is juxtaposed with the loving kindness of so many of my friends and family.  Lynn and Jack, my Portland friends, generously cooked dinner for me last night at a time when I was, undoubtedly, on the low end of the ratings-scale as a dinner guest.  Today, Bryan reminded me of the therapeutic nature of pho (at Pho Oregon which, by the way is a total keeper) at a time when I couldn’t remind myself.  Pho is likely my favorite food in the world (yes, I remember this is a food blog), and its redemptive quality cannot be overstated.  Neither can his friendship.  Cindy and KC called, and so many others emailed their love and support.  Thank you.

Another really beautiful contrast to the ebb of a life was the effervescent presence of life at IMAG0236Laurelhurst Park in SE Portland.  With a great cup of coffee (an easy task in Portland), Biscuit and I spent the afternoon there on a 74-degree day among the ancient Douglas Firs.  A mother and daughter laughed and relaxed on a blanket while watching a video.  Two beautiful little girls with big pink bows in their hair delighted in Biscuit’s bows.  A young girl came to visit with and talk to Biscuit.  I overheard mothers and IMAG0243dads guiding their children in conversation, taking full advantage of a glorious day.  It was the flow of life.

Mocha taught me that loving care of another life honors that life.  She also taught me to seize and honor the meticulous detail of life, in all its forms.  I was Mocha’s Benevolent Force as I am Biscuit’s, as we who have animal friends are to those we care for.  The importance of honoring that care cannot be overstated.

At the end of Mocha’s life, I had two requirements: 1.  That I hold her when she transitioned; and, 2.  That her last caregiver (the vet) know directly and specifically of her life and what a wonderful creature she was.  Both were fulfilled.

So, Biscuit and I march on, thankful for having had this sweet creature in our lives and thankful for one another.  A nap helps.

Biscuit

Biscuit

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2 Responses to Mocha

  1. talleywest@aol.com says:

    I am so sorry to hear this sad news about Mocha. It is so hard to lose our beloved pets!

    I hope the remembered happiness brings you comfort, Leslie

    Sent from AOL Mobile Mail

  2. andreabrady says:

    Oh, Linda, so sorry. Losing a pet is always so difficult. I hope you & Biscuit are comforting each other.

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