To dare let go
The first time I saw Ariel was back
in 2008, at one of the worst shelters in southern Italy. The dogs were
standing in their own feces. Food, they received every fifth day and the
lack of water often made them drink their own urine.
Amidst all the filth and suffering,
Ariel captured my eyes and my heart. A black and white, shaggy dog, she
happily limped up to the fence with her misshapen front leg. The leg had
been broken in four different places and had self healed long ago. It hurt
my soul to think of what she had gone through, but to see her positivity gave
me an incredible strength. She had been in four different shelters during
her life, likely the vast majority of her life spent behind bars. I
whispered into her ear that she could come home with me. That day I adopted
Ariel and four other dogs.
The smell was cruel in that place,
only the flies felt lucky! Ariel had an incredible ability to open up
other people's hearts. When the volunteers saw her misshapen leg, they
expressed their horror. The next moment they looked into her eyes and Ariel's
tail started to go like a propeller. She healed people, implanted a
calmness inside of them. Suddenly, they saw the beauty, her soul, pure
and forgiving.
One morning, after five wonderful
years and a move to Germany together, I saw that her energies were not as
vibrant as usual. We had a blood test done. The result was devastating to
me! Her internal organs were beginning to shut down. After a few
days Ariel, stopped to eat and drank only water. When I looked at her,
she wagged her tail, “thump, thump" like a Morse Code of love.
The most difficult decision came; to let go of the one you love.
Although I know there is a heaven for
animals, I was heartbroken. A friend showed me compassion even though I
knew she was not fond of dogs. She smiled and told me how difficult it
had been for her when her mother slipped into Alzheimer's grip. It's
painful to see someone you love slip away from you.
I told Max and Olivia that Ariel was
very sick. Their behavior around Ariel changed to be more calmly inside.
A peace of mind shrouded the house! The group of twelve dogs, each
walked up to Ariel, sniffed her and walked away. It was their way of
saying goodbye. I tried to be as strong as they. Daring to love in
the fullest, and when it was time, let the heart be full of love and
satisfaction for the time we had together. Ariel taught me that whatever
happens in life, you do not forget, but it is important to be able to let go
and continue to live with love and trust.
The vet came and helped Ariel over to
the other side. One of my dogs, Shiloh, laid down beside her. When
someone in the pack tried to come up, Shiloh growled and chased them away.
With her nose, she tried to cover Ariel with the blanket that she was
lying on, like burying her. It was most interesting, as Shiloh had acted
much the same way when we lost our Black Labrador Retriever Ranger in Italy.
I cried! Olivia put her arms around
my neck, "Mom, breathe in and out!" Outside, it was raining
heavily. Max wanted to build a doghouse above the grave "so that Ariel
does not get wet.”
Max went on with his own hypothesis,
"Mom, what if Ariel is just sleeping! Do you think God gets angry
that we send a sleeping dog up to Him?"
Olivia glared at him, "Ariel is
healthy now. She has already had a meeting with God. God does not accept
anyone who is not ready! "
I responded tenderly upon Olivia's
words, "no one”. She knew that we all would go up there, animals and
people traveling to another place when we are finished here on earth.
That's Amore!
Nebbia the "aggressive dog" is resting on our patio and Roberto, who also comes from the same place (remember him with the ligament injury, also earlier blog). Roberto is doing great, happy, yappy and charming and his leg is completely healed.