Susan Rosen Pics: October 2009

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

you live until the mist of darkness closes over both eyes

blinded by the light, almost
love endures in the nature of things

no where to go : locked in place

a passageway from the present to the past: memories

from certainty to the unfathomable

glimpsed but too indefinite to understand, whereas the water's skin collects diverse sensations from the present; but they too will fade and descend and whispers and forms and colors will be depositd in the memory room, the chamber wherein Spenser pictured an elderly man surrounded by shelves of documents and books, the collective memory of a life lived

Monday, October 5, 2009

Aesop and Emma: Sottish Terriers, the sorrow of loss and sense of time

Aesop

Emma close to one of Aesop's favorite sleeping sites

Companionship, love, and loss. Do dogs experience emotional distress when their companion, in this instance, a sibling dies? On the basis of my observations, they do certainly. When Fala died at night, Kate woke us with a howl that we had never heard before and which was never repeated again. What did that howl mean? It was comparable to a cry issuing from a person. In Kate's case it was not learned behavior since she was a puppy-mill dog and had not grown up within a pack. It was an alert, it seems to me, and it was also an expression of anguish.

When Aesop died on September 17, 2009, Emma was left behind at home, alone. She of course did not know what her brother would experience or where we were going. For some days afterwards, she seemed lonely and did not venture into areas both had occupied together. Recently, however, she has demonstrated that she is trying to understand why he is longer present. Since she did not witness his death, she cannot explain his absence, but she does appear to have a sense of TIME, and expectation. When Aesop was hospitalized or had to have tests taken and was not at home for a few days at a time, he always returned; this situation is altogether different. Emma has been looking at the places Aesop favored out of doors, where he slept and where he watched his world. Before Aesop's death Emma did not sit near these places; she knew he was in them and that was sufficient. Now her behavior indicates that his absence--time-- is beyond anything that she had previously experienced. She urinates near those places to leave a message of her presence, her existence, perhaps hoping that the markings will serve to guide Aesop home. She seems to recognize that his absence is exceptional, that he has been absent too long.