About Ozzie
The oddest thing happened last night. I picked up my iPhone and on the screen was a photo of Ozzie, my funny-looking and beloved Jack Russell Terrior. When I closed my screen and reopened, there he was again, evidently set as my background photo, which I did not remember doing. Seems like I would.
Ozzie has been gone since August 14th. Prepare for a sad story.
I had just brought my two dogs, Lizzie and Ozzie, into our front yard, which is recessed from the dead end road that runs in front of our house. After having waited patiently while I sat at my computer for a few hours, they were delighted to be outside. Running in tandem, they started hopping like little hunting dogs tend to do, and dashed up the few steps which brought them level with the street.
As I opened my mouth to reign them in, a loud, jacked up pick-up truck with massive tires began accelerating from our neighbor’s house and suddenly was parallel to them. For reasons known only to Oz, he veered left and ended up under the truck. At first I thought he would come through on the other side, but the back tire caught him, flipped him into the air screaming. Within a few seconds he took his last breath, with me on my knees beside him looking into his eyes.
It would be easy to lay blame. On me for not keeping my dogs “chained” or leashed. I could curse the driver of the truck for not being aware and perhaps accelerating too fast for a neighborhood street. But I don’t think either would be fair. JRTs are super active and to keep them restrained is cruel. If I was 50 years younger I suppose I could have taken them jogging several times a day. We tried fencing Ozzie and Lizzie as puppies and they hated it, whining and barking and trying to dig under or climb out. They wanted to hunt lizards, chase squirrels and jump up on tree trunks to bark at the many cardinals that live in our large yard. So we gave up on the fence. We hired a wonderful dog trainer and, for the most part, they listened and obeyed.
And as for the truck driver, well, with the height of the vehicle, she simply didn’t see them.
For the first month or so after Ozzie’s death I was deep in a rabbit hole of misery. The horrible incident played like a video in my mind. I heard his screams. Saw the life force leave his eyes. Our family mourned and held Lizzie close.
Ozzie had a strong mind and a funny personality. He had a large face, ears that wouldn’t lay down, and double-jointed front legs that stuck out sideways when he stood. He was strong-willed, full of mischief, and was always looking for adventure. Soft toys were out of the question; they lasted seconds at best. Toys for “strong chewers” lasted a few minutes. Deer antlers could last a day or two. He would get obsessed with certain toys, especially balls, the hard rubber ones he couldn’t tear up. Every evening he would bring one for me to throw and play keep-away until he was ready for me to throw it again. He demanded attention, and laid claim to everything he could get his mouth on.
Ozzie was also a lover. Once he established that he was the protector when strangers came around, he was ready to make friends and showed it by wanting to lick their faces. This didn’t always go over so well, and he would whine and try again, clearly upset at the rejection😊. In other words, he had a large personality. He enjoyed life and wanted to live it to the fullest.
Buddhists believe that all living beings consist of energy –the life force—that lives on after death and becomes another sentient being. I sure hope this is true. It brings me a sense of peace to think that this dog who loved life so abundantly will get another chance to live it. But, boy, do I miss him.
And Lizzie? She was subdued for about a month, doing not much of anything. Before we buried Oz in our doggie cemetery (Our previous two JRTs are buried in our backyard; they passed from old age) I laid him in his bed, covered with a warm towel, for a day. Lizzie would smell him, then nudge him, perhaps thinking he was asleep. Looking puzzled, she’d walk away for a while and try again. Finally she gave up.
Now Lizzie has found herself, a new self. Ozzie always overshadowed her. He was bigger, stronger, more athletic, more demanding. But they were always a pair, a pack onto themselves. Now Lizzie has only humans to interact with and she is a completely different dog. Spoiled, of course. Pampered and treasured. But I bet she would love to have him back in her life.
Now, about the background photo on my phone. I did not set it, or if I did, I’m not aware of it. But it is there. Believe what you want, but I think Ozzie reached out from the Bardo to get my attention; to reassert himself into my life so that I may heal. To remember the joy and let go of the pain. And it’s working.
