One of the things i love about my life these days is that I find myself doing thinks I never did or through I would so, even a few months ago. The walls and barriers around me, put up many years ago and fortified through much of my life, are coming down, crumbling or just perishing of their own way.

When I encounter something I am afraid to do, or makes me uncomfortable, or triggers my skepticism, I am inclined to do it, try it, open up to it.

Gus has megaesophagus as you know, an incurable disease that blocks the esophagus from passing food down into the digestive tract. We can keep him going a long time, it seems, but the outcome is almost always the same. We are closer to Gus for this, in the way parents bond so powerfully with children who are handicapped or chronically ill.

Dogs are not children, I hope I never cross that boundary, but we are doing everything we can for Gus, we have come to love him a lot and we wish for him to be comfortable if possible, and to heal if possible.

With megaesophagus dogs, the idea is to hold them upright for 10 to 15 minutes, in the hope that the food – he’s on a special diet –  will slide down more easily into the digestive track. If this doesn’t happen, the dogs can become ill, they contract pneumonia, are stricken with malnutrition, or starve to death.

It was Maria’s idea to put on some of her meditation music, in this case Krishna Das, and turn the exercise into a meditation. When it’s my turn to hold Gus, I now do the same thing, a greater departure for me than for Maria, I think.

Mediation has been important to me but I have never applied it to a dog, let alone a sick one. What is surprising is the very striking calming effect this music seem to have on Gus. I took a video of this this morning so you can see this for yourself.

Gus is a very active dog, he is rarely still for long, like most Boston Terriers. He sees to take a deep breath, almost to sign, and settle into the arms of the person holding him, often putting his head on our shoulder. Sometimes he closes his eyes and seems to be meditating himself.

Could this be healing Gus, I sometimes wonder? The truth is, I don’t really know. It feels like it sometimes, I think this is healing him somewhat, and since we’ve been meditating, his regurgitating episodes seem to be fewer.

I believe in perspective, not in the  emotionalizing of dogs, I don’t like turning them into psychics or therapists or mystical beings. When the time comes, Gus and I will not be meeting on any bridge.

The experience of dealing with chronically ill dog with an incurable medical condition has scrambled my beliefs a big. Gus is not a spiritualist or a mystic, and neither am I. But this process seems valuable to me, I feel some good is being done.

That could be my imagination, or wishful thinking, so I’m happy to share it. Maybe others will see it also.