Scaramooch had aged suddenly at fifteen years old, or so it seemed to me. He was thinning, loosing muscle mass and strength. I'd found a garden apartment so he could avoid steps altogether. I was at his service, loving his life, wanting to bring him comfort and joy for as long as he was willing to live. I often got down on the ground to hold him, literally spooning him, lining the back of his boney spine up along my soft belly, to join, deepen and strengthen the rhythms of his breathing. As his body got more brittle, I tried to cushion his environment.
All of Scaramooch's vital functions continued fine, and he could both offer and receive love. He was old, and he clearly needed my help. He stopped being able to get up all by himself from lying to standing, but once I tipped and raised him up upon his feet, he could balance there, and actually take short walks, eat, poop. He could no longer bend easily enough to lay down and achieve positions that might bring his body some ease. I helped him lower himself slowly with alignment so he wouldn't just drop and break. He often lay on his side, but with increasing skinniness, his body seemed to cut off vibrant blood flow to the arm and leg crushed on his underside. His spine tended to curve at its center away from the right side.
I was learning about restorative yoga, and Scaramooch was requesting my help. I applied everything I was learning in Jillian Pransky's Restorative Yoga Training to my Scaramooch. I created and used many pillows, pillows of all shapes, and lawn chair cushions, and exercise mats. A long thick tubular bolster fit nicely under his torso. Stratling it could allow his four legs to release their weight-bearing responsibility fully. A wall lined with lawn chair cushions on his left side caught his weight, since his tendency was to fall out toward the left into the deep curve of his spine. Each day, many times, with the bolstering and repositioning of pillows, my Scaramooch hung out in the depth of his healing comfort.
In this restorative yoga process, Scaramooch's posture could anchor his peaceful energy, creating utter comfort within which his breath could deepen and thrive. One day in this peaceful process, on his own time and at rest, he took his last breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment