Pet Stories: In Your Own Words
Tucker and Rocky
I have a story, relating to the deaths of my dogs. The events that followed these deaths were profound and in one instance, very disturbing. The other being the death of my Aussie Shepherd that I will relate at a later time.
Story One: Tucker was a Basenji. He entered my life in February of 1987 as a 2 month old pup. I really had no choice of which puppy was going home with me. He, quite abruptly but with dignity, chose me. He was one of the most intelligent, loving and exciting companions I have ever, unconditionally, shared my life with. He was the epitome of what freedom, joy and "go fast" meant. Tucker could read my heart felt emotions and surf my thoughts. Even though he was a dog only 17 inches at the shoulders, he was as fearless as a English Mastiff of 250 lbs. when it came to protecting me. And I don't mean just physically.
I never felt it was right to have just one dog if I could not be home during the day with him. Thus, Rocky, the Australian Shepherd, entered my family one week after Tucker. Both were two months of age.
When Rocky was 4 months of age, he had a seizure. At least that's what it appeared to be. From that moment on Tucker spent the next 15 years "guarding" me and coming between myself and Rocky. I always thought it was jealousy.
As this loyal and loving dog began to walk into old age, his ability to handle the 37 stairs in my home became far too great of a challenge for him. At 15 years of age, I called an animal communicator and she had a talk with Tucker. He told her how concerned he was that he might fall down the stairs; might not be able to "protect" me; how afraid he was of the pain he was beginning to feel in his body. She asked him if he was ready to "go". To go to sleep forever. He wanted to, but was afraid to leave me alone. All alone. I had her tell him I could do it and not to worry about me. He said he did and would. She asked him if he needed help in leaving. He wanted to know what that meant and she told him a very kind woman would come to his home and help him go to sleep, forever, on my bed. Well, the day came and he knew before this wonderful vet ,who does hospice work for animals came, that it was going to happen. He went and hid. This act broke my heart for we both knew what was to come.
It took as much pentobarbital as would be needed to euthanize a Great Dane to stop Tucker's heart. He weighed 23 lbs. As he loved horses, I buried him by the horse pasture fence. That night I went out to his grave to sit with him. I had no idea I would actually see him sitting on top of his grave looking out over the pasture. We sat together for awhile until I could no longer take the heart wrenching pain I felt at putting him down when he did not want to leave me, yet.
The following night, when I went up to put his favorite flowers on his grave, began the most profound shift in my wisdom regarding the animal kingdom. Coming from Tucker's grave was a shaft of ice white mist that went up into the Heavens. I stood, frozen in between the 3rd and 4th dimension.
What in God's name was he doing?
The next night a friend of mine who works with geomagnetic fields and devas came to see this event.
She told me this tiny little piece of heaven known as Tucker, the Basenji, had created a very special window for the 10s of 1000s of "Beings" who had died on this piece of land I called home, many eons ago and had been trapped there since that time. It took 29 nights before the "Light" went out. Obviously, for me, that Light will never go out.