“She just walked into my office. She was really cute, a beautiful blonde. (That helped; it's not supposed to, but it did.)”
Richard Feynman

Surely You're Joking Mr. Feynman

Pending

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Existence resonates. It does so simply to exist? Otherwise there would just be stillness. Like a body without breath? Tears flow from my eyes and a soft smile resides in my heart. My body is scared, my soul comforted. Is this merely the natural resonance of existence?

Is death a brutal force – brutal because it needs to stand out from all others? Brutal enough for it to unburden itself from a ruthless story-telling role with which it is charged? The story of my true nature? Is the death the ultimate opposite? One without which I could not grasp life? I can feel it pounding against my concept of me… it rages on the outside… but inside, in the peaceful eye of the storm, it resounds with knowledge.

If not an emotional attachment then what kind of attachment was there? Maybe some kind of existential bond. One that is beyond my comprehension but clearly in play? Can it be some connection of souls that governs my encounters in life (and death?)?

I was affected by the sheer brutality of her death. To the dogs is was mere play. To Chaka it was a painful and traumatic encounter. For Andreea is was a ghastly sight. To me it was confusing – it was brutal and senseless. I wanted revenge. Yet I know existence is always in a perfect balance – it does not break down. So?

I do not consider myself to be an animal lover. Andreea brought Chaka and her sibling Laka (who to the best of my knowledge lives in the street where we previously lived) in, pulling them out from their hiding places under the hoods of parked cars. I did not want to take them in but could not throw them out. They were quite a nuisance to start with, but eventually I chose to give them a home. I don’t think I was emotionally attached to Chaka and I don’t feel that my tears were tied to an emotional attachment.

Andreea and I were both intensely moved by Chaka’s death. Tears were shed. I read somewhere that tears are an overflow of energy that the body cannot contain.

I wanted to find the dogs that attacked her and run them over. They are not too blame. The vet suggested we call the local authorities and have them collect the dogs to demand their owners responsibility. We might. But they are not too blame either. They are not too blame not out of their own virtue, but out of my understanding that there is no blame – there is me seeking solace.

We buried her in the mountains, in a beautiful range, about 30 minutes from where we live. We covered her grave with rocks, a few branches, and we surrounded her with burning incense which delicately spread through the forest. It was the first time I touched death.

Chaka died today – well actually yesterday, we only found out about it today – first thing in the morning. I was taking to Andreea to the train station on her way to work when we received the message from the vet. We turned back, reorganized and went to collect her.

We called during the day to see if there was any change. There wasn’t. We visited her later in the evening and there wasn’t much hope, but the vet wanted to give her a 24 hour chance to recooperate. Andreea and I both felt that it was over. When we left the vet I hoped for Chaka that by being left alone she will be able to depart on her own (cats are like that I was told). She was heroic and did so.

I had a feeling when I laid my hands on her that she was leaving us. Andreea called the vet and we immediately took her to see what can be done. The vet tried to give her a chance to come out of a shock and to ease her pain. Her lungs were punctured and her back probably severed. She was stubborn enough to struggle with the IV drip.

Dogs attacked her yesterday. It looks like the attack started within our yard and the chase led right outside our fence. Andreea woke up early and heard the noises and dashed outside to find the horrific site of Chaka being shaken in the mouth of a dog. She managed to pull her from them, but there was not much left to do.

Thank you Chaka. You were my first intimate experience with death. Thank you for taking up your space … and now… I am curious to experience whatever it is that will eventually fill the space your generous departure has left in me and in us … until we meet again.

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