Photo of Cody by Lisa Hutchins
Today we said goodbye to dear Cody. He was one of my rescued (some people call them retired) greyhounds. We got him when he was only eighteen months old. He'd been released from a Florida racing kennel and brought to Colorado. We think he was released from the racing kennel because he was so large. Cody was at the very top of the greyhound height and size charts, extremely large and big-boned for a greyhound. And since the racing people prefer their dogs to be smaller--I suppose because small size makes them a little faster and more nimble--they released him to a rescue group. To our knowledge he never raced.
Cody did, however, do very well in field work. Because he seemed to need a job, we entered him in lure-coursing competitions--field competitions where sighthounds chase an artificial lure across a field. He excelled and earned some championships. It's a huge shame on the racing industry that Cody came to us abused. Even now, the adoption photo we have of him from that time (which I will not share) is shocking. He'd been starved to make him lean, but with a big-boned dog like Cody it was like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole. Racing greyhounds look almost emaciated coming off the track, but Cody was truly the worst I'd ever seen. He'd also had his hair shaved--for what reason, we could never fathom; I suspect it was done with malicious mischief--and had suffered a number of other abuses of which I cannot even speak. Despite all this (or perhaps because of it) he was the most courageous, intelligent, sweet-natured and gentle dog. He rode in the car like a champ and could have been a long-haul driver's companion. He was never aggressive in all the years we had him. He was protective of me in the way greyhounds are: not in the belligerent manner of a guard dog, but in a deeply caring way. Even to his last day he was acutely aware of my moods and stamina, pushing me to rest when I got exhausted or making me stop late-night work when it was time to turn in to bed. To strangers he appeared diffident and retiring, often shy, but I know it was because he'd been rejected and pushed around too much by others along the way.
He was the most spiritual animal I've ever known. He had an uncanny sense of spiritual energy and knew how it worked. Once when I had a shamanic practitioner and her assistant come to my house to do an energetic clearing, Cody met her at the door and proceeded to communicate with her. I think we were all astonished. As she unpacked her ritual tools, he took one of her large cleansing crystals into his mouth and carefully carried it to his crate, where he set the crystal down inside and then crawled into the crate to lie down beside it. The woman was amazed and proclaimed him to be "shaman," then took him around the entire house with her so he could help with the clearing (while I was directed to just sit in a corner chair and stay quiet!). Later, when I did shamanic energy work for clients in my home, Cody often laid down beside the client and assisted in the healing, or simply "held the space," as we say. He was a valuable colleague and friend.
Unfortunately for such a big rugged guy, Cody had a whole series of mishaps and illnesses in the last half of his life. Over the last twelve months he began a noticeable decline. We tried everything but I knew in my heart he was slipping away. Then last night he suffered a major health crisis. After taking him to a Front Range vet this morning and consulting with a couple of specialists, we knew the time had come to say goodbye. We sent him off to the Rainbow Bridge this afternoon. Laying him down for the last time as the breath eased out of his body was both gut-wrenching and loving. When he died he had such a look of joy and surprise and wonder on his face, with his ears oddly perked up. I take that as a good sign. It was time to let him go.
In the end all there is, is love.
May Cody successfully make his way through the Bardo and have a favorable rebirth.
May all beings be free of suffering.
May all beings attain liberation.
May all beings be happy.
Namaste.
Rainbow Bridge illustration by Maris Stella provided courtesy of Wikipedia.
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