Momento mori, II: arriving at the end

Momento mori, I: beginnings

George Rosen: Happy Birthday (1910--1977)

Happy Birthday, dearest father; the card I painted for you when I was a child, says it all.
And you as a child you looked forward with joy and curiosity about all that there is in this world. And the man you became: the learned physician and eminent historian of medicine and public health who eagerly shared your knowledge practical, factual, and theoretical with students and colleagues. You took knowledge out of the ivory tower and made it efficacious in health policy, with the intent always of improving the well-being of humankind. How fortunate I was to have you as my father.

The Murderous Child

green . . . trust . . . muderous intent
the illness manifests itself
death and blood

Desire: the imminent union

desire
the moment of realization
the radiant space
before the first embrace

Flaying Alive: another case of sympathetic fallacy?

According to Aristotle and Descartes, animals cannot experience pain because they lack rational souls. Vegetation, being on the lowest rung of the hierarchy, as constructed in antiquity and maintained thereafter, is not endowed with reason or emotion. Its "soul," being the most primitive cannot suffer. An exemplum is the cork tree. Even when its skin is removed and its flesh exposed to the elements, it cannot think and it does not have sensation. Such is its fate. But man can impose his notions on that tree and imagine it to possess sensation or see it as an exemplum of the human or animal condition.

Ecstatic Discovery

seeking
finding
the ecstatic embrace

Loss and Acceptance

from the boundary of death, a boundary that cannot be crossed,
to nature's regeneration, and stepping into the comfort of fable
reflection of light, of imagination

The Way: no beginning no end

A Dream

a dream on the threshold of wakening
reality remembered and then lost except for fleeting moments of conscious sensation or vision
ice is the barrier between the state of sleep and wakefulness

Fala our Beloved Scottie: Happy Birthday

Fala Tails

FALA, OUR BELOVED SCOTTISH TERRIER, WAS BORN THIS DAY, JUNE 3, 1987.

He was Kate's brother in all senses but blood.
Kate chose him when presented with tiny pups; Fala held his own as she, a one-year old, nudged and sniffed the little guys presented to her. Fala was not frightened-or did not show that he was--when Kate stood over him, he, a wee little guy, fit neatly below her. He was so tiny but not intimidated. A little tonka truck, with wonderful black fur.

Fala was very vocal in the morning; rolling over onto his back, he would make sounds as if he were saying "Harold." Harold would coach him to try to get him to repeat his name (1/19/97)

Fala did not play ball, but he would run around with the ball held forward in his mouth, asking to be chased by running laps around the yard--around the Magnolia tree, into the back yard and then back again beneath the great fir bush. (1/19/97)

Fala "escaped" from the yard this fall (1996, Nov/Dec), after the gutters were cleaned. The fence door had inadvertently been left open. I ran around looking for him, thinking that he might have roamed into the street, but then I saw him standig in Alice's yard, the adjacent yard on the north, looking at me as if to say: "here I am--I'm Wiggy, I'm cute." Fala had gotten out earlier in the year and we found him across the street around at the Cajune's house. Again, a fence door was not secured. (1/19/97)

I see Fala now as he was in his sickness; I see Fala in my mind's eye in the field, healthy, alert. If only the mind could restore the flesh, making material the mental image.(1/19/97)

In December 1996, the weather was exceptionally warm, even attaining a record high of 62 degrees. Little pink blossoms appeared on a tree in the park. This was a grace, because Fala, though shivering at times near the end, was not confronted by frigid air and it was possible to take him walking in the field and at Tallman
State Park. (1/20/97)

We visited Tallman three times: once for walk in the woods, which is videotaped; another time along along the Hudson River path, entering from Piermont (this day was colder) and Fala had some trouble going the distance. We carried him back part of the way. The last time was on New Years' Day. Since park was closed, we drove to the car park off 9W. Snow was on the ground, and it was cold, but Fala did walk some and met/saw a good number of doggies on the way, and could bark, growl and greet as he wished. By January 2nd however, the temparature had moderated considerably, and I was able to take him to the field as I describe in the letter to Pat Gilmore, his breeder. (1/20/97)

Fala died January 3rd, 1997 early in the morning between 3:30 and ?. Harold found him dead. He said that he had felt a dog rubbing up against the bed, but did not wake fully. I had been up several times, once aroud 3:30 I think, and I thought that Fala was in his bed. I cannot bring the image back exactly from my memory. (1/20/97)

The night after Fala died--we had moved Kate's bed to where Fala's had been located--Kate woke me up when she called out in a cry/howl that I had never heard previously. It was a single mournful howl.
Kate licked Fala's bed--it had a furry surface on the bottom--and after he died, she licked the area where his nose and mouth rested when he died. She did this for several weeks. (Today, 1/20/97)

We called Fala Professor Wiggy, because he used to jump up onto my desk chair and curl up there when I was away. On occasion, he climbed up onto the desk, as grit attested. (1/20/97)

While walking with Kate in the field this afternoon I remembered how Fala would nudge us with his nose. If he wanted something, he would touch my ankle ever so gently with his nose, to let me know that he wanted to go out, eat, play or whatever. This was not the only way he communicated, but it was a very delicate and direct expression. (1/20/97)

Fala liked to lie down near my desk chair, alongside the desk, while I worked. (1/21/97)

Fala did not like to sit on a lap for very long; he would get restless and jump off (1/21/97)

Fala used to run up the stairs; in the last two or three years of his brief life -he died at nine years and some months--he would go up more slowly, and in the last months before he died his progress was painfully slow. We didn't realize. (1/21/97)

Early on Fala would negotiate going down too. He was quick. He stopped going down the fairly steep staircase after a fall. (1/21/97)

Harold would sit down on the top step in the morning and each doggie would come up to him on right and left--he called this the launching position--and then he would carry them down, one tucked under each arm. (1/21/97)

When I carried Fala down the stairs he would struggle as I got to the bottom, and I was always afraid that he would fall. (1/21/97)

Fala had a way of rubbing his chin on your hand; he liked to be stroked and patted under his chin, and would press down hard, moving back and forth. He also did this on the edge of the bed. He would lie facing out of the bed, with his chin on the edge and rub it back and forth (1/24/97) 3 weeks after Fala died

When Fala was quite young, he peed like Kate. Around the end of his first year he realized that he could/should pick up his leg to pee, to mark up. (1/24/97)

Fala would lie stretched out on the floor, and we would tickle his pads, which would make him draw his legs in. (1/24/97)

When Fala was a puppy, he had a funny little growl (1/24/97)

This past spring/summer/fall Fala would sometimes behave like a puppy after his morning walk, coming into to the house, and running back and forth between the yard door and the bookcase in the living room, upsetting the rug, and pushing other things around. He tried to get Kate to play with him--she didn't want anything to do with him at this moment, being intent on her breakfast, or possibly feel too mature/adult--and I'm sorry to say I didn't chase him either. I regret and feel guilty about not engaging him more at these moments [I was always too work driven and not willing to play; poor puppy dog] (1/24/97)

Fala's neck was broad and strong, and he had a very large head. Ask Julian to describe Fala's appearance. (1/24/97)

Fala had a very distinctive odor; it was musky and strong. Kate smells like roasted peanuts. (1/25/97)

Fala would poop and pee at the same time on occasion; we always were amused and admired how he would raise a leg, resting it on a ledge or rock or branch and defecate while he urinated. Quite a feat! (1/25/97)

Fala liked to roll around on his back in the field. He learned how to do this from Kate. Kate, if I remember accurately, would roll first and then Fala would imitate her (2/1/97)
Fala was the engine and Kate the caboose. Fala would lead the way down the hill, with Katie hanging back behind us. This changed, however, towards the end when Fala's troubles began to overwhelm him (2/1/97)

When Fala was strong and healthy he would run out in the field when he saw another dog, with tail up and head posed tensely. Katie would go alone, distancing herself but then they would look at each other, for support and to check what the other thought should be done. (2/1/97)

Washing time. When we put them in the tub, Fala would submit, but not with enthusiasm. When we took them out to dry them off, Fala would fly around and rub all over, against the furniture, on the floor, on anything; the famous wash was when he was so eager to get away that he ran down the stairs and took a tumble and hurt himself. After that we blocked his exit. And then we were sure to carry him down. Fala used to walk up and down the stairs. Actually, run up and down. He continued to go up energetically, until his ills began to manifest themselves --although we didn't understand that he was ill until very late; then he methodically and slowly would work his way up. (2/1/97)

When Fala came in from the rain or snow, and was we,t he would excitedly jump up on the couch or on the chair,and vigorously rub himself to dry off, usually jumping up and down many times. (2/1/97)

Fala ate with gusto and rapidly; he was not a gourmet, but he did love to eat. We got into the habit of giving treats when went out; and he was always expectant, not letting you leave without reminding you of his cookie tax. (2/1/97)

Fala would run back and forth along the fence, barking, when the Garros -our neighbors on the south side, got Squirt-a hunting terrier-- and had not fenced him in yet. They were very fierce with one another. When Fala was ill, he would go outside and ignore Squirt and Lady, another Garro dog, when they barked, often coming in after they began to woof. He no longer had the energy to respond. (2/1/97)

Mice in the yard

Today I read Jenny's e-mail in which she referred to Fala as "wigmeister." I had forgotten that term; Harold used it and Jen did too. (2/7/97)

I just remembered how Fala would rub one's ankle or leg rather hard for attention. (2/7/97).

This morning I caught up with Kate and Harold in the park (a beautiful sunny morning, after snow last night) and I recalled how Fala would always get very excited, sort of dashing back and forth as I approached (2/9/97).

When Kate was very young--during her first year, and occasionally after that--she would run around in circles (2/9/97)

Today I ran into the Corgie that followed Teddy, Kate's friend when she was young. This Corgie--I forgot his name--was very friendly (to humans), but Fala did not get along with him. (2/7/97)

I recalled the other day, but didn't get a chance to write it down how Fala would get so very excited as we drove into the High School parking lot. He would begin vocalizing, becoming increasingly expressive and jump up to look out of the window. From the lot I would walk Kate and Fala in a verry large field, behind Tenafly's high school. (2/17/97)

When driving with Fala, he would be on the back seat and look out between the two front seats, often trying to wiggle through, to get to the front. Since the front was so unsafe for him, we would always tell him and resituate him to go back and sit beside Kate. (2/17/97)