The meaninglessness of death

Belvedere is right now at the vet being operated on. What is the meaning of the death of this dog who reminded me of the possibility of joy?

Asking that question was perilous...

She has somewhere between 0 and four different kinds of cancer. A sarcoma on her head growing every day, which is what we took her in for. And what I should have taken her in for months ago. She had a bump on her head a year ago that was a sort of zit. Somehow I was sure this bump was the same zit returning. So sure I didn’t take her in. Finally my father in law, a doctor, told us we need to have it checked. And sure enough it appears to be a sarcoma.

It reminded me of a time I was swimming with dolphins, and noticed there were some sharks in the water too. Oh, those are sand sharks, I told myself, wanting to continue swimming with the dolphins, something I had always wanted to do. Suddenly it dawned on me I had no idea what kind of sharks they were and I better get the hell out of the water.

Exact same feeling with Belvy’s sarcoma. I decided the meaning of the whole situation was a big warning from the universe--pay attention! don’t live in denial! never be afraid to be a hysterical woman! (this advice given to me by the lover of a man who refused to go to the doctor until it was too late).

Having indulged in the guilt for ignoring the lump on the head, it was natural then to feel even more guilty about how much I have in general ignored Belvy over the past two years, since the kids were born. We haven’t taken her to the beach, I haven’t thrown the ball to her, taken her running. Haven’t allowed her to sleep in our room...

And then I started thinking about in general about what I did to Belvy in the name of love. I took her from her mothers and siblings, prevented her from having puppies, won’t let her run around in the yard because I don’t want her digging up my flowers. And I have fed her processed dog food--no wonder she has cancer...A selfish, horrible kind of love. I have often thought that if I were to write about the way that men used to love women before women were educated, I would just borrow my feelings for Belvy.

And so I went to a dark place that was threatening to negate the meaning that Belvy’s life had for me: the possibility of joy.

Finally I talked to my sister, who reminded me that Belvy has always gotten to go to work with me or Andy, has always been surrounded by people who love her. That the kids have been dropping lots of good food for her, and she’d probably trade that for a run any day. And I recalled how several friends have said they’d like to die and come back as Belvedere. So I haven’t treated her so badly...

In the end, I have decided that her death simply has no meaning. It’s her life that has meaning. And I am going to do everything to make the rest of her life as joyous as possible. We took her to the beach on Saturday and she was her old puppy self. The possibility of joy was fully realized.

Looking for meaning in death took me to a strange, dark place. Better to look for meaning in life.