Celebration of Life for a Dog

Celebration of Life for a Dog

Life-Cycle Celebrant: Dorry Bless

On the Altar: Abby’s leash and collar, photos, candle, Urn with cremains, Diva dish, flowers

Opening Words

Today we gather to celebrate the life of Abby Faigen. She had many endearing nicknames: Abala, Boudy, Pierre Francoise de la Brioske, Attapup, Abbersnape, Atteebaaa, Poody, Little Ba, Abs, Abella, Grace, Gwendolyn, Gigi, Miss Primadonna, and Cujo. It’s hard to imagine that a 17 pound apricot miniature poodle could carry the weight of all those names on her tiny frame. But Abby did. In many ways she was bigger than her physical size and her family’s affection was so great that it simply couldn’t be contained in a mere two syllables. To paraphrase the words of the Persian poet, Hafiz, “What is the root of all these names? One thing: love.” Poet Anatole France said, “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains un-awakened.”

Invitation to Sit in Silence

In the coming days, weeks and months the memories of Abby’s struggle towards the end of her life will fade. We know that all of the heart-wrenching decisions which needed to be made on her behalf came out of love, great concern and deep care. What remains and promises to always be available is Abby’s spirit and the tender memories of her companionship.

Barbara lovingly describes her as affectionate, clever and stubborn. She continues and adds that Abby always had kisses for her and even liked to lick the water off of her legs after a shower. Barbara says, “She would shake her butt when she wanted to go out or wanted me to do something for her, and when we were outside, she often would not budge from a spot until she was good and ready, especially if she saw people down the street she wanted to say ‘hello’ to. Sometimes I had to trick her into moving. Abby would only go on a long walk if there were two people or another person with a dog with us. It was frustrating because I wanted to go on long walks with her.”

Stu adds, she loved to have her tummy rubbed. He says, “She was a big-time licker; could go on forever or as long as you tolerated it. When out for a pee, she would look around as if she were the queen of the neighborhood, making sure everything was just right, never failing to sniff a passerby, human and dog alike.” And Sammie says, “Abby’s favorite thing was mommy”.

Our love and memories of Abby is what lives on and remains with us always – right here in our hearts. Author Sir Walter Scott says, “I have sometimes thought of the final cause of dogs having such short lives and I am quite satisfied it is in compassion to the human race; for if we suffer so much in losing a dog after an acquaintance of ten or twelve years, what would it be like if they were to live double that time?”

Please join me in a moment of silence.

Ringing of the Tibetan Bells

Historically, bell ringing has always been a part of celebrating the joy of weddings and victories, while it also intones the sadness of deaths and funerals, and summons people to church. Really, bell ringing is much more that that -- it is an invitation to go within and once there to recognize the vibration of life -- that which is seen and even more so, that which is unseen. It is an invitation to embrace all of the gifts that are already present to us in silence and formlessness. It is an opportunity to realize and celebrate the very life of life -- in which lie all the realities of existence -- the thread which connects us all and cannot be taken away.

Traditionally, tingsha are used as part of specific Tibetan rituals; one such ritual serves as an offering to those who have passed on – to support them and assist them in finding their way in the afterlife. I will now ring the bells three times to commemorate our time and space together here today in celebration and remembrance of Abby Faigen as sacred.

Opening Readings

JUST MY DOG – Read By Barbara

She is my other eyes that can see above
the clouds; my other ears that hear above
the winds. She is the part of me that can
reach out into the sea.
She has told me a thousand times over that
I am her reason for being: by the way she
rests against my leg; by the way she thumps
her tail at my smallest smile; by the way she
shows her hurt when I leave without taking her.
(I think it makes her sick with worry when she
is not along to care for me.)
When I am wrong, she is delighted to forgive.
When I am angry, she clowns to make me smile.
When I am happy, she is joy unbounded.
When I am a fool, she ignores it.
When I succeed, she brags.
Without her, I am only another woman. With her,
I am all-powerful.
She is loyalty itself.
She has taught me the meaning of devotion.
With her, I know a secret comfort and a
private peace. She has brought me understanding
where before I was ignorant.
Her head on my knee can heal my human hurts.
Her presence by my side is protection against
my fears of dark and unknown things.
She has promised to wait for me...
whenever...wherever--in case I need her.
And I expect I will--as I always have.

The Fourth Day by Martin Scot Kosins

(read by Sammie)

If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will always remember.

The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your young new friend.

You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly looking mutt in a shelter ... simply because something in its eyes reached your heart.

But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your hall or frontroom - and when you feel it brush against you for the first time - it instills a feeling of pure love you will carry with you through the many years to come.

The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later.

It will be a day like any other. Routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant, you will look at your longtime friend and see age where you once saw youth.

You will see slow deliberate steps where you once saw energy.

And you will see sleep where you once saw activity.

So you will begin to adjust your friend's diet - and you may add a pill or two to her food.

And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness.

And you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.

And on this day - if your friend and God have not decided for you, then you will be faced with making a decision of your own - on behalf of your lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit.

But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you - you will feel as alone as a single star in the dark night sky.

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of family or human friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you.

But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many joyfilled years, you may find that a soul - a bit smaller in size than your own - seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to come.

And at moments when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your leg - very very lightly.

And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to lay - you will remember those three significant days.

The memory will most likely be painful, and leave an ache in your heart -

As time passes the ache will come and go as if it has a life of its own.

You will both reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you.

If you reject it, it will depress you.

If you embrace it, it will deepen you.

Either way, it will still be an ache.

But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when - along with the memory of your pet - and piercing through the heaviness in your heart -there will come a realization that belongs only to you.

It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost.

This realization takes the form of a Living Love –

Like the heavenly scent of a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and grow - and be there for us to remember.

It is a Love we have earned.

It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go -

And it is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live.

It is a Love which is ours alone -

And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to join our Beloved Pets -

It is a Love that we willalwayspossess.

Dedication of Abby’s Altar

The word ‘animal’ means to have the breath of life, from the Latin anima. It is related to animus which means of mind, spirit. Our animal companions breathe life into our very own existence and reflect the fundamental nature of our own spirit. They bring us closer to our own truth. Even though Abby has left us in form; we celebrate her life and our life with her.

We now dedicate Abby’s altar.

(Barbara to talk about items on the altar if comfortable doing this)

We recognize the link of life that has bound us to Abby has been broken, but feelings of love continue to bind us together. We give thanks for the gifts of Abby’s life, companionship and memory. Our lives have been shaped and enriched by Abby. May her memory be a blessing. As long as we live, she too will live, for she is a part of us as long as we remember her.

Lighting the Flame

No two dogs are alike. No two poodles are even alike. Each shines with their own light. And no two flames are alike. There are big flames and little flames, flames of every color. Some flames hardly flicker in the wind, while others have wild flames that fill the air with sparks. Today we light the only flame we can – the one that is for Abby and her unique personality and her way of being a poodle – the Abby-way. In so doing, we bring forth the blessings of sacred fire and the mystery of life, the fundamental nature of life, that Abby and our animal companions connect us to by just being who they are each and every day.

(Barbara, Stu and Sammie light candle)

In the words of Irving Townsend from The Once Again Prince; "We who choose to surround ourselveswith lives even more temporary than ourown, live within a fragile circle;easily and often breached.Unable to accept its awful gaps,we would still live no other way.We cherish memory as the onlycertain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan..."

Abby’s Story

Abby’s life began in the stratosphere of the show dog world. She was born into royal apricot miniature poodle lineage, with a mom named Pretty Woman and a dad named Albert Einstein. Both were champions. Abby had an under-bite and as a result wasn’t suited to carry on in the family business. That’s how she came to live with the Faigens’ and left the show circuit behind in the dust. Stu tells it this way, “Sammie chose the name Abby, I paid the bill. The dog ended up being Barbara’s.”

Barbara says Abby smelled liked linen and her favorite part of Abby’s canine body was the hollow of her neck. Barbara goes on to share, “Abby and I had a very special, close connection. I would do anything for her, and I felt that she would have done the same if she could have. The way she greeted me at the door every time I came in, even after only five minutes, was as if I had been gone for a very long time and she was overjoyed to have me back.”

Abby came home from the breeders at 10 weeks and got a lot of attention at the Faigen’s Chanukah party soon after. She was oohed and aaahed over – just as you would expect – her being from champion blood and all. Sammie remembers being really young – around 9 years old and in 3rd grade -- and so excited to finally get a dog. She recalls, “When we got home, we set up the gates in the kitchen and Abby just ran around. The next few days, I remember not being able to wait to get out of school to play with her.”

Barbara started feeding a special creation that the breeder made up – including yogurt, cottage cheese and other tidbits. Thus began a life-long gourmet eating club ritual that Abby and Barbara shared. Sammie tells it like this; “Abby wouldn’t be able to eat anything before taking part in “play and eat” with my mom.” This is the stuff of Faigen family legend. Sammie continues, “I just remember always hearing squeaky toys coming from downstairs and her running back and forth in the living room.” Barbara defends herself by saying she blames it on a book she read about having lunch with your dog by throwing the kibble into hard-to-reach places and making a game out of it. She admits this went on for almost all of her years.

Still, Abby loved food. She would practically be in Stu’s lap if he was eating something she fancied. She would hop all around in the hopes of getting something, like chicken, and she usually did. Stu and Abby even shared a daily conversation around food. Stu says it went like this: “What’s for dinner? I think I’ll climb up on his lap and take a sniff or two. Smells good. Hope he gives me some today. I got to remember to look cute. If he ignores me, I’ll paw at him, then when he looks over I’ll give him the eyes. He can’t resist the eyes treatment.” Also: “He’s going to lie down next to me. Great. Time for me to roll over on my back and get a massage from him. I love his massages. Ooh, ahh, don’t forget under my chin.”