***Chillin' on the bed, so cute. 2004***
I mentioned once, I think, that there were times when I'd look at Bernie and would be kind of mesmerized, that there is a live animal in my house. It lives there. It's cool but also strange. The whole dog-human thing, started by some accounts with humans corraling dogs back in the day to protect their homes, livestock, possessions. Humans came to like the creatures and vice versa. Thus the relationship began.
I think it's important that people, humans, realize we are live organisms, a simple though dominant species in a vast ecosystem. Our health and happiness, I believe, can at least in part be influenced by our connection to nature. We need to spend time outside, in the sun and in the rain. Our windows need to be open, we need to eat fresh foods that come directly from the Earth. I've always felt the happiness and long-term health of my dogs was connected to them spending ample time outside, alone, where they can grasp their connection to nature. They do understand this, I know Bernie did. You could just see it when you observed her outside, the zen mindset, understanding she was part of something bigger than our relationship. She was a part of nature. We are parts of nature.
Moving to Tahoe by myself had a profound impact on me, outside of the obvious social and growth effects moving 1,500 miles away from home by yourself has. You can't help when surrounded by nothing but nature realizing that you are part of something bigger, that no matter how independent you are, you are dependent on much. I spent so, so much time in the mountains with Bernie, us both feeling out our place in the bigger scheme. I watched her, watched her instincts. You could see where she comes from, domesticated over time yet wild at heart. How does a sheep dog know how to herd, without seeing an example or being taught? How does a pet know how to snap the neck of a squirrel to kill it instantly?
In reading about the Amazon, fascinating reading through and through, one of the author's--I'm reading so many books I don't remember which--stated that part of the reason he went to the Amazon was to further embrace his connection with nature in the sense of feeding his soul and body the elements, elements most of us never even grasp are relevant to us. Does it go so far as the hippie philosophy that we are all appendages of one big "creature"? I don't know. We are all part of something bigger. When people do and say really selfish things, and specifically I think of many politicians, I often want to ask, "Do you realize you are going to die? That you really are fairly insignificant, as we all are when it comes right down to it? Why must you impose your special-interest will upon the masses, when the masses do not want what you preach? What's in it for you, you will be gone while your ignorance, short-sightedness, and closed mind propogate over generations." It is why the greater good is important, we are all part of something much greater. Everyone needs to know this, to live their life in deference to this, at least to some degree. Grow a garden, take a hike, lay in the grass and stare at the sky, go on a trip where innumerable creatures can humble you till death with one sharp bite.
So I look forward to my forthcoming massive encounter with nature. I respect it immensely, particularly since my days in the Sierra Nevada, not because I want to be called green or because I want people to think I'm cool, and not because I'm deeper philisophically than anyone else. I adore nature because it is omnipresent, it's important, and once a piece of it is gone, it's gone. Do you know that 70 percent of all the oxygen in the world is generated by the Amazon rain forests? So who the hell are we, creatures of something far bigger, badder, and deffer than the human race ever will be, to say, "It's just a tree. It's just a jungle. It's just a stinky animal . . . burn it down, I WANT RUBBER!" Nature writes a conclusion for each of us, it's there waiting for us all, and while that conclusion often comes to soon or sharp for our liking, it's necessary. It's why I understood and understand why Bernie is gone, others are gone, and others will go. I will embrace the opportunity to see--feel--nature at its finest, in the Amazon, and will adore untold sights and will likely sink at others, pitiful sights brought on by man without cause or concern for the vast picture. In the end, though, it will be an experience to further humble my perception of the big-picture purpose of my and your existence. Simpler, though, is that it's a chance to gaze at the birds, the trees, and animals in their blessed relatively untouched natural habitat. Sounds like a day in the life of a happy, healthy dog.
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