Barnaby was like a mood, a fragrance of the harmonious inner life, permeating everything with which he came into contact. He knew sorrow and he knew joy, and he held them in a delicate balance of serenity and peace. He knew how to respond equally joyfully to an invitation to walk or talk or sit together, which seems to me to be a particular kind of training in grace—a willingness to respond easily and happily to even the most modest adventure together. Perhaps it could be said that within his framework of being a dog, he lived life as a spiritual exercise. —from Mystical Dogs by Jean Houston
My yoga instructor read this to our class this week and it made me think about my dog Henry, shown above. We had to say our goodbyes one year ago this weekend, and so I thought it would be nice, a tribute of sorts, to share it here. I haven’t featured Henry on the blog like the others, because it’s been too hard. In fact, Henry’s BFF Nicholas also passed away last October, so that’s two missing from my Dog Bios. But I’ll save those posts for another day, and for now just try and honor the light that Henry shared with everyone he met. Like the excerpt says, “a willingness to respond easily and happily to even the most modest adventure together”, that was my Henry. Like all dogs, he was a champion of living in the moment, but with his own added zest.
I miss you, Captain Feathers.