In Memory of my beautiful and beloved Vincent Van Gogh-Go Wood, whose sweet and gentle life passed into the Universe in the early dawn of Sunday Morning January 18 2015. Vincent lived an incredibly long life and was the most intimate example to me of a beings survival instincts and the mythical “will to live”. He was a mature Beagle with a bit of graying around his face when I found him wandering in the streets of my neighborhood in the summer of 2002. For weeks, I visited with local veterinarians and animal hospitals and left photos and posters describing him. I placed ads in the local paper without successfully locating his owners- Alas; he became a new member of my Dog family of Lola and Ginger, who were approximately the same age as Vincent. A large section of his right ear was missing, and so my friend Kathie named him “Vincent Van Gogh-Go”. I soon took him to my vet Dr. Russell who discovered during the check-up that Vincent had second stage Heart Worms. He warned that the treatments would be very strong and could kill him. Vincent survived these treatments without complications and seemed to enjoy his days in the hospital like a little vacation. Then, a few months later, while traveling in Asia, I received an urgent message that Vincent had a major seizure and locking of his spine. He was taken to the emergency animal hospital in critical condition and put under sedation. I phoned the hospital from overseas to hear the Doctor say he believed Vincent could have a severe spinal injury located deep within his neck and between his shoulder blades. The Vet suggested that he might have to be “put down”. I caught the first flight back to Houston. During my twenty-eight hour return travel, Dr. Russell had detected some type of fragmented material in an x-ray. He performed surgery and removed lead from an old gunshot wound deep within in his neck. Vincent was in the hospital for three weeks with intensive care and I visited him almost every day. All of the people at the animal hospital showed real heartfelt love for his daily progress; they all seemed to be emotionally pulling for him to survive. On the afternoon when I came to bring him back home, we all got together for a little celebration with him. He was smiling, wagging his tail, licking people and basking with affection. A few others like myself were happily teary eyed. Upon leaving the hospital, Dr. Russell warned that although Vincent is okay for now, I should be prepared. He might only live a few months, possibly even a year or two, but that Vincent had probably suffered a quite severe, life ending, neurological injury. Within a few months after his surgery, not only was he back on his feet again, he was out jogging with Lola, Ginger and I. Often he would lag behind our little running pack due to being distracted with the interesting sights and smells of nature. He really loved parks, golf courses and being free to explore the outdoors. In 2005, I noticed when offering him treats, that he couldn’t see the treat until it was very close to his face. During his check-up visit at the vet, I mentioned this to Dr. Russell. He inspected Vincent’s eyes and determined the possibility of Glaucoma and recommended I take him to a veterinarian eye specialist in Porter. The specialist confirmed Dr. Russell’s suspicion of Glaucoma and put Vincent on treatment medications and a monthly visiting schedule. Within the year, his left eye had significantly deteriorated and had to be surgically removed. The eye specialist told me that Vincent was already more than eighty percent blind in his right eye and that I should consider removing it as well, as it would probably need to be removed at some point in the future when it would cause him pain. I rejected his recommendation, as I didn’t want Vincent to have both eyes sewn shut. If the eye were to cause him pain in the future; I would deal with it then. From this point forward, I became his seeing eye human when out on our walks. Throughout the years, with each life-threatening event, or handicapping health obstacle, Vincent patiently endured and adapted to each situation with a calm and loving nature. He had survived both Lola and Ginger by many years. As Vinnie aged, his physical movements became more restricted with muscular and joint pains. Over the past several years he spent most of his time sleeping in the studio. But every few hours he would go on short and slow walks around the perimeter of the courtyard to exercise, do his business and take in the smells and sounds of the outdoors. Often while working in the studio, I would notice him in his little bed moving his legs and making barking sounds under his breath. I would imagine that his enjoyment of sleep might have been that while in a dream state, perhaps he was visiting his lost, but remembered world. The natural and colorful world he experienced for much of his earlier life. His health was seriously deteriorating through the spring of last year. He was having great difficulty walking and would occasionally fall down and not have the strength, or in to much pain to pick himself up. He also had several mild seizures and was having difficulty breathing. In late summer, I decided to move from Houston to northern California. I knew the long road trip could be our final adventure together. We stopped every couple of hours to stretch and walk around. Along the journey, he ate hamburger patties, scrambled eggs and hash browns from (normally taboo) fast food stops like What-A-Burger, Carls Jr and In-and-Out. A few days after arriving in San Pablo, I took him with me on a day trip to visit a friend living high in the mountains above the Napa Valley. While sitting out on my friend’s deck taking in the sunlight and high altitude air, Vincent had a major seizure that lasted the longest time ever. My friend and I thought he was going to die. Once he recovered, I immediately brought him back home. The following day he was put on medicinal biscuits with CBD’s for seizures and arthritis. His health began to improve immediately. Within the week, he was back to walking around the hilly terrain and even climbing up and down steps. For the past five months he had been on his bedtime medicine and a special organic diet that my niece Yuka prepared for him. He was displaying some of the best health and physical activity I had seen from him in many years. He enjoyed breathing the cool sea air, walking the perimeter of the back yard, chewing wild dandelion and leaves from a lavender bush. Vincent had been seizure free for all of these months; until late Saturday afternoon when his body went into a seizure attack with very strong convulsions and bowel movements. I stayed with him and held him through this extreme episode for many hours into the night. He eventually became calm but was very weakened. I laid him down in his bed, petted, sung and talked with him until he was asleep. I sat watching him for quite a while; occasionally he would let out a series of low volume howls and growling, sounds that I hadn’t heard from him in several years. I went to bed for a few hours, then got up to check on him. He was very still in his bed, his body warm but breathing quietly. I went off to make coffee. When I returned to him a half hour later, he was no longer breathing. I dug his grave in his favorite spot on the high side of the yard with a panoramic view of the bay next to a high retaining wall. He loved this area where he would lay and take in the warmth of the morning sunlight and fresh sea air. It sits below a large bay tree and near the lavender bush that he so loved to chew on. His grave is pointed to the south and he is wrapped within his favorite wool blanket that my nephew Ben and niece Yuka gave to him. The three of us each said our farewells to him in our intimate funeral ceremony. Afterward, I planted five small lavender bushes to envelope him within the Buddhist pentagon pattern to symbolize fire, water, earth, wood and metal. He is surrounded by beauty and will give fertile life to the lavender plants he enjoyed. My little soul mate has departed this world and I have never felt a deeper grief than with his passing. Through the years, we communicated together in our unique way and I will always have the memory of his loving, calm nature lingering within my being. We shared life together and I learned so much from him. All life is miraculous and precious.
Posted on: Wed, 21 Jan 2015 08:32:25 +0000