Made me do a double-take* – Photo: L.Weikel
The Burial
We buried Spartacus this evening. Our entire nuclear family was present for the ceremony, although the Boston** contingent had to attend via FaceTime. Amazingly, the weather held. In fact, when Karl and I walked before the burial, we were sure the ominous clouds building and racing through the sky cast some serious doubt on whether we’d even get the job accomplished tonight. Instead of raining on our ceremony, though, the clouds parted and – cross my heart – the stars and planets shone brightly in the sky above us.
Mama Killa (pronounced Mama keeya), Grandmother moon in Quechua, rose in her just-past-full abundance behind our house (from where we were burying Spartacus). Her light framed our house in a golden light. Of course, we buried Spartacus right beside his mother, both of them facing our house so they could always keep an eye on their people and home.
In the Clouds – Photo: L. Weikel
A Little Magic
I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t have some sort of magical dust to sprinkle on our experience, right? Well, starting out this evening, as Karl and I walked, the clouds scuttling across the sky revealed a formation that was a pretty obvious reminder of Spartacus, especially his distinctive ears.
It was fleeting, but we both saw it.
During the ceremony, Cletus made a point of being with us, meowing the entire time. Cletus did the exact same thing when we buried Sheila. It’s as if he’s our designated keener. He cried and cried until Sacred Space was opened. He was silent during our heartfelt sendoff, then proceeded to cry and circle between all our legs again as Sacred Space was closed.
And speaking of heartfelt sendoffs, Tiffany sang a Patsy Cline song to Spartacus, honoring his devotion to us and our daily walks. I dare you to listen and not well up. I was blown away.
Keeping an Eye On Us
There was another synchronicity between Sheila’s burial and Spartacus’s (it still pains me to write that) involving Tiffany that I’ll share with you tomorrow.
But I’m going to leave you with the photo at the top of this post and below. What you see is what I saw when I looked up this evening, just as my son was leaving. This is the window that faces where the dogs are buried. But it looks out onto our porch. They are buried at least a hundred yards away.
If I did not know that Spartacus could not be out on the porch somehow managing to look in the window asking to be let in, I would’ve stood up right then and there and gone out to the kitchen to let him in.
It’s a moment of magic. And to be honest, one that made my heart skip a beat. Spartacus was known for his big bat-like ears.
Good grief. As I typed these words, I just turned to see if the shadow was still there. It is – and it moved. Again, my heart leapt into my throat. My mind grasps for a logical explanation and lands on, “This is a trick being played on me by the leaves of our trees.” Oh please. Who am I to explain it away? And why?
Nature conspires for the Magic Win of the evening.
Who’s Peeking In Our Window? – Photo: L.Weikel
*Ignore my dirty windows.
**Not to be confused with the Boston Terrier contingent, both members of which were in attendance in spirit, as opposed to via FaceTime.
(T-65)
