This Fragile Flame

Beloveds, I’m afraid I do not have good news to share (though there is a little at the end).

Early this afternoon, I got a call from our little puppy’s veterinarian. She reported that while the 90 minutes of surgery went fine, all vitals normal, just as they were awakening her from the anesthesia, her heart inexplicably started to weaken and fail. Nothing they did to stimulate it, including CPR, had any positive effect and she died.

I’m enough of a “pro” to hold myself together and do the appropriate prayers on her behalf. But as is my habit, most of the rest of the time I’ve been guilt-ridden, reviewing the situation again and again from every angle to see what mistakes I made that contributed to the death of another. This is the second time we’ve brought a street dog in for surgery and she’s died on the table.

The motivation was OK, I think. She didn’t exhibit signs of illness, not even elevated temperature, and I relied on the opinions of professionals in deciding to do the procedures. The vet explained afterward that distemper and worms, both common in street dogs, can sometimes evade immediate detection, and the animal will mask its constitutional weakness as a survival instinct. We talked, and decided if there was a flaw in our approach, it was in being too hasty and not going slower and observing the dog more carefully over several days, her appetite, stool, other indicators.

Was I impatient to be the Savior, and display it in front of all of you, as the self-congratulatory tone of the previous post indicates? Maybe so, and it’s a harsh lesson, but now I’ve learned it. Patience and care in all things.

I’ve sent individual messages to the contributors for the vet expenses, in order to reimburse their very kind donations.

In happier developments in our animal welfare efforts, yesterday an article on our temple’s parrot rescue project, Garuda Aviary, was featured on the front page of The Washington Post’s Metro Section. Again, if you had had the virtuous thought to contribute, this is a very, very worthy cause. I can tell you that caring for the parrots is a time-consuming, expensive gig, and they do it with such love.

To put all this in some perspective I offer you the well-known story of Kisa Gotami from the time of the Buddha, as told in the Dhammapada:

“Kisa Gotami lived in Savatthi. She was known as Kisa Gotami because of her slim body. She married a rich young man and a son was born to them. The son died when he was a toddler and Kisa Gotami was stricken with grief. Carrying her dead son, she went everywhere asking for medicine to restore her son to life. People thought she had gone mad. But a wise man seeing her pathetic condition, decided to send her to the Buddha.

“He advised her: ‘Sister, the Buddha is the person you should approach. He has the medicine you want. Go to him.’

“Thus she went to the Buddha and asked him to give her the medicine that would restore her dead son to life. The Buddha told her to get some mustard seeds from a home where there had been no death. Overjoyed at the prospect of having her son restored to life, Kisa Gotami ran from house to house, begging for some mustard seeds. Everyone was willing to help but she could not find a single home where death had not occurred. The people were only too willing to part with their mustard seeds, but they could not claim to have not lost a dear one in death. As the day dragged on, she realized hers was not the only family that had faced death and that there were more people dead than living. As soon as she realized this, her attitude towards her dead son changed; she was no longer attached to the dead body of her son and she realized how simply the Buddha had taught her a most important lesson: that everything that is born must eventually die.

“She buried her dead son and told the Buddha that she could find no family where death had not occurred. Then the Buddha said: ‘Gotami, you should not think that you are the only one who has lost a son. As you have now realized, death comes to all beings. Before their desires are satiated death takes them away.’

“Perceiving the fleeting nature and impermanency of life, Kisa Gotami decided to renounce the worldly life. She requested the Enlightened One to admit her to the Order of bhikkhunis. Accordingly, the Buddha sent her to the community of nuns where she was admitted as Bhikkhuni Kisa Gotami.

“She was hardworking and always mindful and conscientious of her religious duties, and strove diligently for her spiritual development to purify her mind of all mental defilements.

“One night, she lighted some oil lamps and sat down a short distance away. Then she started looking at the flames. She noticed while some flames flared up, others flickered out. With her mind concentrating on the flames, she meditated as follows: ‘Even as it is with these flames, so also is it with living beings in this world: Some flare up, while others flicker out; only those who have attained Nibbana are no longer seen.’

“The Buddha, through his supernormal power, saw Kisa Gotami from the Jetavana Monastery. He sent forth his radiance and exhorted her to continue meditating on the impermanent nature of all component things. The Buddha also commented: ‘One who lives a hundred years without perceiving the Deathless State; a life of one day is better if one has perceived the Deathless State.’

“After the discourse, Kisa Gotami attained Arahanthood.”

Comments

[rod at theworsthorse.com]

I just wanted to send my condolences about this.

I have no doubt that your motivation was more than "OK."

Thank you, Konchog.

[Kendall]

'Ramifications of compassion'
We are sometimes a little exuberant about wanting to be compassionate and kind, but even the best of intentions can have unintended consequences. This is, sadly, often seen when people contribute money to a disaster fund (like hurricane Katrina) and find out later it was a bogus fund, which means the money didn't get to help who it was intended for. Taking the time to first research a fund can lead to the discovery if it's a real or bogus one, but often we just want to help out quickly.

All actions have reactions, sometimes they're good, sometimes they're bad.

Sorry about the pup, she was a cute one.

[Carol of Seattle]

Konchog,
Please don't second guess yourself too much. Having looked at the picture of her foot, I don't think you can fault yourself for assuming the best thing for her was to operate as quickly as possible. Remember, often there is no right choice, only different choices.

I think it was wonderful that the pup had a chance to interact with you and the dharma before she passed away. I can only hope that her next birth will be a more comfortable and productive one.

[Rigpa Dorje]

Hi Konchog. Don't doubt yourself when it comes to reaching out to beings in need. That lucky puppy was touched by love and compassion before passing into the bardo. It is quite possible she was going to die regardless of your actions, due to the karma of this life being exhausted and no longer able to support her form. But, by your reaching out, she was touched by a hand extended in Dharmic compassion before passing. She is lucky to have found that. Most beings in this world never do.

[Ryan]

No question you did the absolutely right thing, very kind cuzzin.

[Shannon]

I'm so sorry to hear that the pup didn't make it through surgery, but have no doubt you did the right thing. I particularly agree with the comment from above: Often there is no right choice, just different choices."

Be well.

[yeshe thomasch]

Dear Konchog...along with all others who have commented herein, I share your sadness at the loss of the little pup and thank you for your intention to help her.

Surely it makes sense that even though everything seemed okay that she should survive the surgery, and that instead she died and could not be revived, surely it makes sense that the causes for her to die or "the karma of this life being exhausted" would explain what seems such an unfortunate end. And yet, as your readers have lovingly pointed out, her end came after she had experienced love and laughter and the view of the Buddhas robes. And doubtless many mantras and phowa practice as well. How fortunate.

Please do not second guess yourself...

Coincidentally, as I have been writing this a co-worker just passed on to me the following: "How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog -- it's here a little while, then it's gone...therefore, whenever we have the opportunity, we should do good...Be faithful and carry out the responsibilities and the calling that you have been given..."

Take care, dear brother...and I hope you will find happiness even in the inevitable grief, as well as in reflection upon your life and blessings as you mark another birthday.

Love and hugs, yeshe lhamo

[Konchog]

Wow, thank you all! These kind words, and those in my email box, helped me so much this morning. Of course, I'm not really discouraged. I'm sure we'll scoop up other critters, and I'll ask you in my awkward way to laugh and cry right along with me.

Happy New Year to all of you!

[rod at theworsthorse.com]

you rule. good attitude.
HNY to you, too.

[Sarah]

You did right by the pup. The proof's in the kissing pic. Happy New Year and Happy Birthday B'rer K!

[sisLaura]

Yes, you totally followed your heart in a desire to help a suffering critter. DOn't think she didn't know that! And yes, Happy Birthday, dearest brother. I think you almost qualify as a middle aged monk!

[Jane (at Finger Lakes Equine)]

Bless you for your efforts for this little puppy's life. And thank you for your story. I am the practice manager of an Equine Practice in up-state New York. When we have to euthanize a client's cherished companion, or preside at their natural death, we try to help our clients understand that it is the last act of a loyal friend to either make that most difficult decision, or to be present at that most difficult time. In the future I will tell them "Some flare up, while others flicker out." For I know that for every one person who has the compassion to do what is right for their horse, there will be four more people who will be able to do the same. Compassion breeds compassion.And I thank you for your beautiful words and your gentle kindness to one small life - who will one day return to make one more person feel well loved.

[minnie]

i think your intentions were more than ok. if nothing else, she's no longer suffering from the pain she was obviously in. {hugs}

[tayloe]

So sorry about the puppy-

[Palzang]

So sorry about the puppy, but hopefully its karma as a dog is exhausted and perhaps it is time for a precious human rebirth. Don't beat yourself up about it. Most people would have just walked on by...

[kunzang]

What about heartworm? That is exactly how one of our dogs died post-op, as she was HW+. Is HW an issue in Mongolia? If so, maybe the rescues should be tested prior to surgery (if not already the case).
And i of course am also sorry at her death, but do feel that when you make decisions in rescue and something goes amiss you have to review your role and actions. So I guess, unlike every else, I think 'second guessing' actions in a case like this is important. It's not just enough to say we did our best, we had good intentions. Believe me, it happens here at Tara's Babies when tragedy unfolds. It serves, hopefully, to prevent the same problem, and improve our ability to be effective.

[Lee Ann]

Happy New Year, Konchog, and I have no doubt you did the right, kind thing. You're a helluva guy, and I'm glad you're here.