Rebecca and I have a dog named Suka. A few years ago, Suka tore her ACLs in both back knees. Being an extremely active dog, she likely injured them during a chase or a jump, probably in pursuit of something small, quick, and furry. The result was that our young dog suddenly seemed like she was at the end of her life. She would struggle to get to her feet, and could barely walk well enough to get outside. We knew that something had to be done, so we took her to the University veterinarian in the Twin Cities — where some of the best care in the area can be found. They sedated her, took a good look at everything, and came out to tell us the bad news.
“The ACLs are both torn,” the vet told us. “Not all the way through, but significantly enough that we feel an operation is in order. Here are your choices.” And he went on to describe two sketchy-sounding options, both of which would have put us out thousands of dollars, and both of which had dubious success rates. After much debate, we simply decided that we’d take her home. The vet told us that she’d never get better on her own, but the surgeries were just too expensive and too risky.
For months Suka suffered. We’d help her to her feet, and she’d slowly make her way outside, where she could lie in the grass and watch the birds and the clouds, and smell the tempting scents drifting in from the forest. But her days of chasing rabbits were clearly over. Some days she would seem a little better, and then she’d try to play with our other dog, Gryphon, and an hour later her knees would be giving out. She could never heal because as soon as she felt better, she’d re-injure herself by playing too hard. We did our best to limit her movement, only allowing her to walk when on a leash, but we couldn’t watch her all the time. And if she felt good enough to try to play, she always would.
One day when she was feeling quite well, she pushed open the door, wandered out into the street, and was hit by a car.
When we found her, she was in rough shape. We took her to the vet and x-rays showed that miraculously, nothing was broken, and they didn’t think she had any internal injuries. But she was bruised and battered and cut, and for the next month she could hardly move. We took the best care of her that we could, but it was many moons before she was back on her feet and ready to go for a walk. Even then, her walks were slow and aching, and it took her a long while to build up her strength and spirit. It was then that we discovered something wonderful.
All of that time laying and resting from the car accident had been enough to heal her knees. The stronger she got, the more she began to play and run, and soon we saw her matching the speed and agility of Gryphon once again.
Being hit by a car is one of those things that is clearly bad. We might add a host of other terrible events to that list, such as being raped, losing a loved one, or having your house burn down. But the rape victim might go on to become a caring counselor for others who have been raped, and the loss of a loved one might open your heart to give room to loving someone else. And when our house burns down, our life might change — become simpler, or find us moving to a new location that opens new opportunities. What would happen if we could encounter life like this — with a curiosity about what new adventures await us, even when we’re in the midst of terrible events?
It is our preconceptions that life must be a certain way that give us so many feelings of frustration and disappointment. There is true magic in opening to life’s surprises, and finding the magic that lies in every moment we experience.
Wow Kenton, what a beautiful recognition.
Love you Suka!!
Hello Ariel!
I always love your comments. I’ll pass your love on to Suka with a big scratch behind the ears — she’ll be quite happy for it =)
Fondly,
Kenton
Beautiful post Sifu! I’m sending this article to someone I know is going thru a rough patch right now, it might be just what she needs. And scratch Suka behind the ears a few times for me too!
Thank you so much, Albert. I’m hoping it can help her out =) And Suka’s also getting some loving from you — she’s not quite sure what all this excess attention is about, but she’s liking it!
Great insight!
This reminds me of an old, beautiful hindi qawali, which in part, goes:
agar dil Gham se khaalii ho to jiine kA mazaa kyA hai
If the heart is free from pain, what is the fun of living
nA ho khuun-e-jigar to ashq piine kA mazaa kyA hai
If the heart is not bleeding, what is the fun of tasting tears
Love to Suka!
Greetings Kaushik,
Thank you so much for sharing that. Perfect! And you inspired me to go and talk to Suka. I said, “You know what, Suka? You don’t know it, but you’re inspiring all sorts of people, and you’re doing it simply by being yourself.” She seemed pretty pleased with the whole affair. =)
Such a beautiful reminder, so well-told through a personal experience. Exactly why your site remains one of my favourites.
Blessings,
KL
Thanks KL — it’s always a joy to hear from you =)
Fondly,
Kenton
Hey Kenton, and thanks for a great reminder!
I trust you’re having lots of fun with her now, playing and running around. Keep at it and give my best to Suka!
Hello Magnus! We sure are — it’s truly a joy to watch her romping around again =)
Hugs,
Kenton
Kenton!
Brilliant contemporary take on the old Zen fable of the Chinese peasant farmer, a horse, and his son’s leg fracture. As an owner of two Labrador Retrievers (both with more of a penchant for zipping through the bush of northwestern Ontario than any sense of safety awareness or limitation!), my heart initially sank at the beginning of the post. They are my trail running buddies and I often have angst, anticipating them limping back onto the trail after a foyer into the forest or into one of the many lakes on my route.
The lessons that pooches can teach us are many but a “curiosity about what new adventures await us, even when we’re in the midst of terrible events” is one I hadn’t considered. If Suka is anything like my two guys, she appreciates a good butt scratch on top of those behind the ears already received … can you toss one of those in for me?
Kirk
Hello Kirk,
You’ve invoked one of my favorite Zen tales, which I curiously did not even think of when writing this. Thanks for pointing out the connection! Also, consider the butt-scratching delivered! =)
Sweetwater,
Kenton
Mr. Whitman
When I was a young boy 3D movies were popular.
Without the proper glasses the movie barely made sense.
Thank you for this site and my new glasses.
Greetings William J.E. Duncan,
What a great analogy. Welcome!
Sweetwater,
Kenton