bark! is about growing old. It's about my dog, Eeva. My mother-in-law brought us a puppy in 2007. Cute and cuddly, she quickly grew into a giant - a gentle giant. She was kind to everyone, never bit and seldom barked.
Eeva loved to run on the field. She ran so fast, there was no way to keep up with her. She ran figure eights and sometimes spun in a circle. Her joy was infectious.
At age 14, she wasn't so energetic. Our walks got slower and shorter. Her hips bothered her, then she dislocated her shoulder. She couldn't walk. She lay in her bed, moaning with pain. We gave her gabapentin, which helped her relax.
I talked to my kids about putting her down. I asked for a vote. No one wanted to put her down, so we cared for her, gave her a diaper and cleaned up after her when she peed and pooped. It was hard work. She got a grin when we brought her a bowl of food and she'd prop herself up to eat it. We helped her turn from one side to the other, which was painful for her, but it helped her sleep.
I thought a lot about a phrase I'd heard at the poetry reading, "Be a Love Dog." It was something that local, Kent poet Maj Ragain used to say. He wrote poems about it. The way I interpreted it was that I am the dog and Love is the master. Even in her pain, when I came in the room, Eeva wagged her tail. She was a love dog, for sure.
Polio paralyzed Maj at age 10, but he didn't let that stop him from teaching English at Kent State, where he encouraged young poets to write and perform. He loved talking to people and learning about their lives. He wrote heartfelt poetry with an Ohio flavor.
As Maj aged, he lost his mobility. The chair was harder to wheel around - he needed more help - but when he looked a young person in the eye and smiled his Maj Ragain smile, he forgot all about his own troubles and he became their enthusiastic supporter. He was a love dog.
After Maj passed, Kent local poet R.C. Wilson put together a book of poems to honor him, and to celebrate the dedication of Kent State's poetry park to Maj. I had written and performed this poem a few years earlier, so I submitted it to the collection and it was accepted. It was part of a chapbook I called "Poems for Parvati," now it's part of Dear Maj.
The poem is about me, growing older, it's about Eeva and about Maj, who would have loved to be able to walk again. It's about limitations, but also about overcoming them. They key is to bark! And be a love dog.
bark!
It's not so easy
getting older.
I want to run on the field,
I want to play all day.
I don't want all these aches and pains
stealing my strength.
I want to walk again,
I want to fly.
When you're a love dog,
it's not so easy
to let
go of life.
After three months bedridden, Eeva stood up. Her shoulder had healed. She couldn't walk very well, but she could go up and down the front stairs, sideways. She could make it out to the front lawn, in the cold, wet winter. As the Spring arrived, she got a spring in her step and tried walking to the backyard, where she collapsed and couldn't be moved for hours. I put a blanket over her while she rested and eventually we got her back inside the house.
As the bluebonnets began to bloom and flowers were everywhere, Eeva went down the front stairs and lay in the grass. It was a beautiful day, but I noticed she couldn't raise her head and her eyes looked glazed. I called my family together and we each placed a hand on her as she stopped breathing and left her life.
It's incredibly sad to lose a dog like that - a love dog - but you couldn't pick a nicer way to go.
If you're ever in Kent, Ohio, take a moment to visit the Maj Ragain Poetry Park which hosts a fanciful sculpture by artist Robert Wick.
