owly: (Default)
BUNNY AND STRAWBERRIESTo all Bunny’s friends over the years,

I’m sorry to bring you some sad news.

I came home on Friday to find Bunny looking very wobbly. She’d had a
little fit a few days before that and hadn’t quite returned to normal
since. By Saturday morning she could barely lift her head, couldn’t eat
or drink, and was finding it very hard to breathe.

We spent the weekend by her side, trying to keep her comfortable, cool
and hydrated, before finally deciding to do the merciful thing and let
her go on Sunday evening.

Although we’re very sad and miss her terribly, we are glad that she
didn’t have a very long period of debilitation and suffering (just last
Sunday she was running around exploring the sculture garden at Heide),
yet we had a little bit of time to prepare and say goodbye. We’re also
glad she got to have a pretty good innings – she was a few weeks shy of
fifteen.

Nursing her over the weekend gave us the chance to reflect on her
fifteen years of antics, as well as all the loyalty, love, companionship
and good humour she has given over the years. The fact that between us
we were there right from her conception and birth through to the end,
meant there was a lot to reminisce about.

We thought of the many times she had defied death - at least three very
close-calls, and several grey-hair producing stunts. (In fact Mum thinks
she actually did die once after eating a cane toad, but somehow
miraculously came back; her will to live probably coming from wanting to
have another go those pesky cane toads, as she later did). We’re very
grateful that she didn’t die prematurely on any of those occasions, but
peacefully at home at a pretty ripe age instead.

Still, it’s hard not to feel the loss at every turn, when she was a dog
who wanted to be involved in everything; be it cooking (for obvious
reasons), taking out the bins, gardening, standing by in the bathroom
while you had a shower, going with you to the toilet, heralding the
arrival of the postman, or dinner-time, or invading cats, or burglars,
or the presence of (usually phantom) mice in every nook and cranny,
going for rides on the bike or (joy!) in the car, going to picnics,
parties, concerts, shopping and, at the end of it all, going to bed
(definitely a favourite).

She was so good at quietly sitting in my handbag not making a peep, in
order to be snuck into various places or taken on the tram. It can’t
have been very comfortable, but she seemed to understand the game and
know that the pay-off of not being left at home was well worth it.

(Well, usually… There was the time I snuck her into a film screening at
the State Library in Brisbane. I couldn’t work out why she wouldn’t stay
still, until finally she got away and made her way across the front of
the cinema to where, it turned out, some very surprised friends were
sitting.)

Perhaps one of the hardest things is not having her greet us at the door
when we arrive home. But thankfully her four little cousins are trying
their hardest to make as much of a song and dance of it as they possibly
can, to try to make us feel better.

bunny with a capeSo, thank you all for your loving care and affection towards Bunny over
the years. She was definitely a people-person and greatly appreciated
every pat and cuddle you ever gave her, as well as your snacks and
scraps from the table, walks, minding while I was away or at work, or
anything else you did to care for her.

I have attached some photos to remember her by. I have tried to
represent different sides of her personality, from the sweet and gentle,
to the joyous adventurer exploring under the car seat on a hot day, to
the mischievous rubbish-bin rummager (she dressed herself in that
plastic-bag cape).

If you’re wondering what she's up to now, my nephew Sam has this to
offer (reports my brother Tom);

“When I told him "Well, Bunny's now happy in Doggy Heaven", this got Sam
interested in this as a research topic (much like his earlier theories
about dogs marrying without their human owners knowing) and he started
to hypothesize about what such a state of being might be like. "They'd
have non-stop bones, and holes to dig. And they could chase cats all the
time. But they'd be dummy cats, because the real cats would rather go to
Cat Heaven" ..."

Regards,
Liz
--
owly: (catlovesfish)
there' s nothing like that moment when catch yourself being caught up in the awesome beauty that is the wind spirit. 

she moves the trees and the leaves and makes sounds from them like they were a harp.

darkness and quietness and the wind spirit, singing just for me.

i look so very forward to the lands. oh my goodness. the river and the trees. thousands of them on the forty acres i call myself home to. every one has a story of it's own. i think i will go back to my camp that i had from early 2005. i made my home between three trees and shrubs. danica was next to me in her tent - within shouting range. rachel was up on the ridge, looking out to protect us. shirleybear was in her cabin. i watched her closely as she tended to the fire and kept us all warm. there are so many memories, but most of them are unto the land: she must hold her secrets, guard her wimmin's business.

there was lightning through the camp. about 30cms from me and bear, heading down toward the river, where suzi was floating. that was the end of camp. we could have all been fried, the three of us. but no. it was the spirit, the great mother, the aunties and the grannies and all of the ancestors. we'd collected and loved over this land, where so much has happened throughout the ages. law around the fire. loving under the stars. bumping into a beautiful python while bathing the morning. falling asleep in the warm evening air to the sounds of fiddle and guitar and beautiful full female voices with the occassional chorus from all of the dogs who gathered among us. a tree falling in the river. bark falling from a tree; that means there is a goanna climbing up it.

i am so blessed. i have so much richness in my life. such beauty.
owly: (Default)
such a nice evening.

i saw split enz play. they were wonderful. i kept closing my eyes and feeling it inside. letting my eyes rain tears of emotion, letting my skin dance and tingle, feeling the bass and drum in my ribcage, my heart... every song i'd hoped i'd hear was played - poor boy, dirty creature, give it a whirl, stuff and nonsense, history never repeats, i hope i never, i see red, six months in a leaky boat, matinee idol. i witnessed the spectacle that is noel crombie. i crushed hard as i watched him percuss, and held my fingers to my mouth as he played his spoon solo. and those finn boys have such thick healthy heads of hair. buffnuts.

suzi met me at the venue afterward and jumped on a tram, and slowly moved toward the city center, past the big top, past the giant screen in federation square where hundreds had huddled together to keep warm and watch the big game together. i kind of wanted to stay there and see the end of it, but home beckoned, and i complied with my aching bones.

we arrived home to three wailing cats, all at the front door to greet us and bring us inside. it was like the three of them had gathered together to try and concentrate the force in an attempt to open the front door.

i collapsed on the couch, painkillers are finally kicking in and turned the television on. i sat thought the last 15 minutes of the game squinting my eyes at the awful sbs reception we get in our house. i saw australia win their match and it made me scream. now there are hoons driving home along st georges road tooting their horns and screaming from excitement.

so tonight? tonight was good.

And you know that I love you here and now, not forever
I can give you the present, I don't know about the future,
that's all stuff and nonsense
owly: (Default)
/
.

today i cleaned all of the mould off the ceiling and the walls of the bathroom. and suzi picked oranges from the orange tree in our garden and she gave them to everyone in the street.

yesterday's therapy was mindblowing. we pin pointed the exact moment everything changed. my body cried and cried and my mind wasn't really there with the crying, but it probably was good, somehow.

walking out of his room was different to walking into it. i could see more clearly inside of myself. that achievement, that knowledge, that strength and revelation was all, and only for me.

i take this moment in space and time to love myself for my courage to stick to my journey. yesterday, i fucking rocked.

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owly

August 2007

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