The Nature of Suffering
January 13, 2008
My study of Buddhism (and I am not a scholar) has led me to believe that the Prime Directive is; To Relieve Suffering.
Enclosed here is an email I'd written for a friend earlier this evening.
Ali, Hi
When we last exchanged emails, we were talking about suffering... Life was good for me at that moment, and it was easy for me to speak speculatively about it. I'm in some serious mourning right now. And can speak more from inside the lion's jaws now.
You said; "surely not all suffering is bad or to be avoided?"... My answer is all suffering is bad, but sometimes good results come from it anyway. And no, not all suffering is to be avoided. In Buddhism, we have what we call "Bodhisattvas". People who choose not to enter Nirvana, but return to earth and help others to reach Nirvana. People who have vowed to empty all the hells, before they themselves enter Nirvana... I've recently acted as a Bodhisattva for Pawpaw. When I'd reached out to him, to relieve his suffering, I knew that I was setting myself up for a great deal of pain. But I did it anyway.
Here some photos of Pawpaw (see Facebook photo album)... No death, human or animal, has ever left me as desolate as his passing. He was an extraordinary presence and I'm going to miss his funny little face.
As I'd said in one of my previous emails, I've had most of my animals since they were pups or kittens and they are all elderly (except the cocker spaniel). Pawpaw was the exception that proved the rule. He was 15 years old, but I'd just found him about 2 months ago.
2 months ago, I was looking for a dog for a friend -- she wanted an adult english bulldog or adult boxer. Anyway, I was checking a kill-shelter in a nearby county when I stumbled across a listing that stated; blind poodle, 15 years old. The picture wasn't very good - couldn't really see the dog's face for some reason? Anyway I was distressed because I knew that animal was old, heartbroken, stressed and doomed to be euthanized. So, I drove for more than hour to pick him up.
Yes, he was old, heartbroken and stressed. But nothing could have prepared me for the true nature of the horrors that little man was living through. The shelter was a concrete floor, bars and large hard food that the dog could not eat. His teeth were rotten, his skin was eaten up by some kind of bacterial infection, his eyes were glued shut from infected lacerations, his back and hind legs were deformed by arthritis (concrete floor!), he was horribly matted and had kennel cough... So anyway, I get there and you want to know what they said to me? "You don't want this dog, he's 15, he's blind and he's stopped eating." Well, Jesus! I wonder why? I would have stopped eating too!... The dog I picked up was a rag-doll, he was lifeless because he had given up and wanted to die. I would have felt that way too, under the same conditions.
LOL. You know though, I'm a little ashamed to say it, but remember I'd said the ad read; "Blind poodle"? And remember I said, the photo wasn't very good, couldn't really see his face?... The reason we couldn't see his face was because his fur was THAT matted and crusted over from his eye infection. So anyway, I look into his face and see that he is a pekepoo, the first one I've ever seen and I thought; "God, that's one ugly dog!" But I still felt the need to pick him up and be a hospice for him, to make his last days on this earth happy ones. Now, it's that funny little face of his that I will miss the most!
I took him to the vet and got his eyes cleaned out. Then, I got him home and opened a can of wet food. That dog WOLFED it down! Then he slept... It took about 3 days for him to really begin and I do mean just "begin" to come back to life, to really CARE about what was going on around him. My first clue was when I went to put some antibiotic in his eyes and he snapped at me. I laughed. Good for Pawpaw! He was showing some spirit.
Over the last few weeks, I've been unemployed for the most part. Dealing with some physical maladies of my own. So, Pawpaw and I have spent quite a lot of time together. During the day, he would lay in his petbed while i was on the computer, or he was in my lap as I watched tv. At night, he would cuddle up to my abdomen and go to sleep... Either way, he soon became so very attached to me that he suffered serious separation anxiety. I know why, it's not just because he loved me - but because he was so very afraid of being lost and forgotten again, afraid of having to live through those horrors all over again. I HAD to be within eyesight at all times! It became very difficult to even just take a bath. Poor little old man! But I loved him all the more for it because I could understand, and I just wanted him to know that it was "okay" now, he was mine and I was never going to abandon him or forget him.
Then too, we spent quite a lot of time together because Pawpaw was so very frail. He was not able to go up or downstairs, not even up little pet stairs to get on furniture. In the beginning, he wasn't even really strong enough to walk more than few feet... So, I was frequently carrying him down stairs to potty outside. Carrying him up stairs to bed. Picking him up to put him on the couch. Carrying him down the stairs to eat breakfast or dinner.
Mealtime was his absolute favorite time. After he'd put on weight and his spirit came roaring back to life; he would start doing a scampering little happy dance when I'd ask "Pawpaw, are you hungry?" It was a comical little scampering, happy dance that I'd expect to see out of a puppy - not an adult. Then, he'd start throwing his back and bellowing at me so hard that his forepaws would come completely off the ground. He was seriously telling me about it! Yes, he seriously enjoyed his mealtime... His next favorite time was bedtime = Cuddletime. That was my favorite time too. He was so warm and so gentle, so sweet.
I thank Heaven for the mild winter we've had. Those days earlier this month when it was 67 degrees outside? I was able to take Pawpaw outside to enjoy the backyard. And enjoy it he did! He loved the outdoors. I believe, in his younger days, he would have walked for miles. As it was though, he was scampering from one end of the yard to the other and had a good time... I'm so glad he had those warm days.
He was very happy in his last days, he really was. He'd gained weight and more importantly he gained trust - he knew he was never again going to miss a meal. At least, not as long as I was in his eye-sight. He loved his petbed. He loved my lap... When I'd first brought him home, he didn't know me and apparently, had not had any real kind of affection - I mean, I went to kiss him on the head and it freaked him out, he snapped at me. But before long, he not only trusted me, he loved me and let me kiss him on the head and neck whenever I was carrying him around or sitting in front of the tv. I loved him for that.
He died a happy dog, but I am inconsolable. No death, human or animal has ever left me so hurt and lonely. Still, it was worth it. Every minute. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't hesitate a second, yes, I'd do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.
Thanks for listening.
My study of Buddhism (and I am not a scholar) has led me to believe that the Prime Directive is; To Relieve Suffering.
Enclosed here is an email I'd written for a friend earlier this evening.
Ali, Hi
When we last exchanged emails, we were talking about suffering... Life was good for me at that moment, and it was easy for me to speak speculatively about it. I'm in some serious mourning right now. And can speak more from inside the lion's jaws now.
You said; "surely not all suffering is bad or to be avoided?"... My answer is all suffering is bad, but sometimes good results come from it anyway. And no, not all suffering is to be avoided. In Buddhism, we have what we call "Bodhisattvas". People who choose not to enter Nirvana, but return to earth and help others to reach Nirvana. People who have vowed to empty all the hells, before they themselves enter Nirvana... I've recently acted as a Bodhisattva for Pawpaw. When I'd reached out to him, to relieve his suffering, I knew that I was setting myself up for a great deal of pain. But I did it anyway.
Here some photos of Pawpaw (see Facebook photo album)... No death, human or animal, has ever left me as desolate as his passing. He was an extraordinary presence and I'm going to miss his funny little face.
As I'd said in one of my previous emails, I've had most of my animals since they were pups or kittens and they are all elderly (except the cocker spaniel). Pawpaw was the exception that proved the rule. He was 15 years old, but I'd just found him about 2 months ago.
2 months ago, I was looking for a dog for a friend -- she wanted an adult english bulldog or adult boxer. Anyway, I was checking a kill-shelter in a nearby county when I stumbled across a listing that stated; blind poodle, 15 years old. The picture wasn't very good - couldn't really see the dog's face for some reason? Anyway I was distressed because I knew that animal was old, heartbroken, stressed and doomed to be euthanized. So, I drove for more than hour to pick him up.
Yes, he was old, heartbroken and stressed. But nothing could have prepared me for the true nature of the horrors that little man was living through. The shelter was a concrete floor, bars and large hard food that the dog could not eat. His teeth were rotten, his skin was eaten up by some kind of bacterial infection, his eyes were glued shut from infected lacerations, his back and hind legs were deformed by arthritis (concrete floor!), he was horribly matted and had kennel cough... So anyway, I get there and you want to know what they said to me? "You don't want this dog, he's 15, he's blind and he's stopped eating." Well, Jesus! I wonder why? I would have stopped eating too!... The dog I picked up was a rag-doll, he was lifeless because he had given up and wanted to die. I would have felt that way too, under the same conditions.
LOL. You know though, I'm a little ashamed to say it, but remember I'd said the ad read; "Blind poodle"? And remember I said, the photo wasn't very good, couldn't really see his face?... The reason we couldn't see his face was because his fur was THAT matted and crusted over from his eye infection. So anyway, I look into his face and see that he is a pekepoo, the first one I've ever seen and I thought; "God, that's one ugly dog!" But I still felt the need to pick him up and be a hospice for him, to make his last days on this earth happy ones. Now, it's that funny little face of his that I will miss the most!
I took him to the vet and got his eyes cleaned out. Then, I got him home and opened a can of wet food. That dog WOLFED it down! Then he slept... It took about 3 days for him to really begin and I do mean just "begin" to come back to life, to really CARE about what was going on around him. My first clue was when I went to put some antibiotic in his eyes and he snapped at me. I laughed. Good for Pawpaw! He was showing some spirit.
Over the last few weeks, I've been unemployed for the most part. Dealing with some physical maladies of my own. So, Pawpaw and I have spent quite a lot of time together. During the day, he would lay in his petbed while i was on the computer, or he was in my lap as I watched tv. At night, he would cuddle up to my abdomen and go to sleep... Either way, he soon became so very attached to me that he suffered serious separation anxiety. I know why, it's not just because he loved me - but because he was so very afraid of being lost and forgotten again, afraid of having to live through those horrors all over again. I HAD to be within eyesight at all times! It became very difficult to even just take a bath. Poor little old man! But I loved him all the more for it because I could understand, and I just wanted him to know that it was "okay" now, he was mine and I was never going to abandon him or forget him.
Then too, we spent quite a lot of time together because Pawpaw was so very frail. He was not able to go up or downstairs, not even up little pet stairs to get on furniture. In the beginning, he wasn't even really strong enough to walk more than few feet... So, I was frequently carrying him down stairs to potty outside. Carrying him up stairs to bed. Picking him up to put him on the couch. Carrying him down the stairs to eat breakfast or dinner.
Mealtime was his absolute favorite time. After he'd put on weight and his spirit came roaring back to life; he would start doing a scampering little happy dance when I'd ask "Pawpaw, are you hungry?" It was a comical little scampering, happy dance that I'd expect to see out of a puppy - not an adult. Then, he'd start throwing his back and bellowing at me so hard that his forepaws would come completely off the ground. He was seriously telling me about it! Yes, he seriously enjoyed his mealtime... His next favorite time was bedtime = Cuddletime. That was my favorite time too. He was so warm and so gentle, so sweet.
I thank Heaven for the mild winter we've had. Those days earlier this month when it was 67 degrees outside? I was able to take Pawpaw outside to enjoy the backyard. And enjoy it he did! He loved the outdoors. I believe, in his younger days, he would have walked for miles. As it was though, he was scampering from one end of the yard to the other and had a good time... I'm so glad he had those warm days.
He was very happy in his last days, he really was. He'd gained weight and more importantly he gained trust - he knew he was never again going to miss a meal. At least, not as long as I was in his eye-sight. He loved his petbed. He loved my lap... When I'd first brought him home, he didn't know me and apparently, had not had any real kind of affection - I mean, I went to kiss him on the head and it freaked him out, he snapped at me. But before long, he not only trusted me, he loved me and let me kiss him on the head and neck whenever I was carrying him around or sitting in front of the tv. I loved him for that.
He died a happy dog, but I am inconsolable. No death, human or animal has ever left me so hurt and lonely. Still, it was worth it. Every minute. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't hesitate a second, yes, I'd do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.
Thanks for listening.
