A Prescription for Love
When I get the feeling or message that an older pet needs love and I pass that on to their people, it is often hard for people to grasp the full meaning. We love our pets and the people in our lives, so what does it look and feel like to give them love.
I have had many experiences with this from the aging dog that got left behind from walks as he could not keep up the pace or distance his parent and brother were able to do. A prescription of love in Sundance’s situation was asking him to set the pace, distance, and how often (ie. Every other day or two to three days a week). Love often means changing the way we have always done something to adjust it for what is doable now without judgment of the ways it could be performed previously. With Sundance, he loved his walks, and he thoroughly enjoyed a half hour or hour long brushing or petting session on the days he was not up for a walk. I could literally feel his excitement and joy when he was happy on his adventures inside or out. This is love.
With my cat friend, Lupo, love was including him in the decisions of what occurred and when they were done. As things change in our lives, one of the hardest is a shift in how independent we are. With Lupo, our visits always began with me greeting him, listening, and observing how he was feeling. This was followed by asking what order he would like the activities done this visit which gave him some of that independence that in many ways was leaving his life due to his shifting health and the routines that were changing around him. During a visit, there would be refilling his food dishes, water, connection, listening to music together, and cleaning his litterbox. Every day, he got to choose in what order things took place. When he was still eating dry food, he would watch me fill up his bowl while I chatted with him and following a day when he wasn’t feeling as good, I brought some of the dry food to him where he laid, and he ate several morsels. This is love.
With my dog friend Max, love was re-engaging him in life. He was spending more time in his bed gazing at the walls when I first met him spending less time with his family. When I first visited, he would stay in his bed while I got his younger sister outside first thing in the morning. I would put on music for Max to help him gently wake up and each day the time it took him to come to the door to want to join us outside shortened. He initially would follow his sister around the yard and then would play with us for a bit. When I would do Reiki with them, he would wander in and out of the space while his sister took in as much as she could get as she too was dealing with his changing behavior on an emotional and physical level. When Max started to seem off-balance, I would guide him to follow me back to the patio or give him more touch and understanding. This is love.
With my cat niece, Guinevere, love was greeting her where she was. Initially this was on my brother and sister-in-law’s bed, later it was on a kitchen window ledge. It was going to her, offering her love and connection after greeting all the other pets who made their way to the door. No one is left out. It is turning on the water in the sink that she loved drinking while gently touching her and petting her. On days when all the family members pets included were in the family room talking, it was bringing her into the room when she wanted to be with everyone. This is love.
So a recipe or prescription for love is finding ways to re-engage them, meet them where they are, connect with them and offer them the quality, present time together we all want in our relationships whether through play, walks, brushing, petting, or guiding them to find their way.
