Clefty

My sister called me in tears yesterday as I was on my way to church. “Clefty died” I heard through her sobs. And tears welled in my eyes as I too felt the sadness.

Clefty was born three weeks ago to Carole’s Shih-tzu/poodle dog, Britney. He was the first born of 7 beautiful pups, lovingly delivered by Carole in a 7-hour marathon that lasted from about 11.00 p.m. to 5.52 a.m. when I received her last text message “Just delivered #7”. But Clefty had a “problem” – he had a cleft palate. This made nursing difficult for him. Further, his mother, in the way of nature, started to reject him.

So, the dilemma – do we let nature take its course or do we give this puppy a chance at life? Together Carole and I recalled the puppies we had “saved” – Minnie, the rottweiler pup born blind with serious respiratory problems, whom the vet declared we were wasting our money on – but who went on to live for 17 years; Itsy Bitsy, my own little pup, the runt of the second litter of my dog Cloud, who I forcefed every two hours for days – and who went on to produce her own litter of 7 gorgeous babies; Purlie, the runt of Itsy’s litter who also had to be forcefed, and who lived 22 joyous, carefree, love-filled months with us. Left to nature, they probably would not have survived. But I have this theory that God gives us knowledge and will for a reason, and since that is part of our human nature, it behoves us to use it. And when Carole said to me “Do you regret saving Itsy?” I knew that we must do whatever we could to help Clefty (as the puppy was now named).

Thus, the bottle-feeding began. I had my experience of a full week of bottlefeeding when I dogsat Carole’s dogs. Every few hours either Victoria or I would sit with Clefty wrapped in a towel, easing the nipple into his little mouth. He would suck eagerly, his tiny paws pushing against the imaginary udders of his mother. It is impossible to multitask when you are bottlefeeding a puppy. And so Clefty feeding time became moments of presence, when all I focused on was this sweet little puppy. He became the favourite of all – the first telephone call of the day between sisters starting with “How is the little Clefty”? In three weeks he became a treasured part of our lives.

Yesterday we released Clefty on his way to doggie heaven, to join Minnie, Purlie and all the other dogs who have graced our lives. Once again, a dog has reminded me of the true nature of life. We are here to love and to love unconditionally. We are here to contribute to the betterment of humanity. Yet our humanity is not in isolation of the totality and interconnectedness of life on this planet, so we are here to love and care for this too – the birds, animals, plants, lizards, land, air, water – and yes, the little Clefty. And I am reminded of God’s perfect world. There is no such thing as an imperfection. Clefty’s little palate was to us the sweetest thing – when he finished his feeding, he would smack his lips and his tongue would edge into the cleft right up into his little nostril. And we would gaze at this “imperfection”, and think “he is so perfect”. But perhaps the greatest reminder is of the impermanence of life on this planet. We are all leaving this life as we know it. The question is – will we, like Clefty, have brought joy and happiness to those whose lives we touched? For that is our choice. Clefty, in his 3 weeks with us brought immense joy and love. Would that we all choose to do the same!