Ron Jon's Photo Album

Pookie Makes His Transition at 2:33pm, on Friday 23nov07 (click photo for words)

2007-11-29T23:34:46Z

Good-Bye Beloved Sri Pookie ------------------------------------ The first words Kim said when I answered her call on my cell phone two days ago, at 3:31pm on Friday Nov. 23, seared into my memory: "Are you sitting down?" – I immediately backed back into the parking lot and shut off the car's motor. I'll never forget what Kim then said: "Pookie made his transition today at 2:33. It was very peaceful and he agreed that it was now time for him to move on." I looked at my watch and the time was 3:33pm, exactly one hour after his passing. I was in Sebastopol, a small town about 50 miles north of San Francisco, exploring the possibility of Kimi and I purchasing land there to move to when she retires in ~ 3 years. (Our dream is to live there for half of each year and the other half on the West Coast of the Big Island in Hawaii.) I had been there for a few days, staying with friends who live in a beautiful home in the rolling green hills outside of Sebastopol's delightfully picturesque and alternative town center. When my iPhone rang, I was pulling out of the parking lot near Main Street where I had just eaten a delicious natural foods lunch at the East West Cafe. My plan was to stay Friday night with friends in San Francisco and then drive back down to our home in Marina del Rey on Saturday. As described in the above article "Ode to Pookie," our beautiful male cat had experienced an amazing almost miraculous recovery after nearly dying a few weeks ago. Just hours before the euthanasia vet was due to arrive at our home, he had started eating, regained his energy and alertness and begun playing again with us and our other two cats, Sascha and Cindy. It felt like an answer to our prayers for time to say goodbye to him after his very sudden and unexpected near death experience. We spent a wonderful three weeks with him showering him with love and attention, and thanking him for all he had given us. We were constantly aware that his Veterinarians had warned us that his recovery was almost certainly temporary given the advanced case of organ degeneration they had discovered during his near-death crisis. But we kept hoping against hope that he was somehow going to continue to be with us. He had recovered sufficiently for me to take the planned trip north and drive the 500 miles to SF and Sebastopol. But Kim had called Thursday evening to say that Pookie had once again stopped eating and we knew that if he didn't begin eating again on Friday he was in real danger of a relapse given his advanced case of Chronic Renal Failure. After hearing Kim's words that Friday, I was again nearly overwhelmed with profound grief. Kim and I cried together for an hour long distance and I decided to drive home immediately. I arrived a few hours later and Kim and I have been comforting each other and cherishing Pookie and Sascha and Cindy since then. Our dear sensitive female Siamese Sascha has taken it especially hard, crying all night and smelling again and again all of Pookie's things. She keeps staring at us with the most heart-rendering expression of uncomprehending despair at the sudden disappearance of her closest friend. And she's been uncharacteristically needy with us, following us everywhere and wanting constant holding and petting. Thank goodness Kimi had the intuition to get charming little Cindy a month or so before Pookie's first crisis so Sascha has a new kittie friend to distract her from her loss. Enough said. I'll stop here and let Kim post her description of her last hours with Pookie. Among all the profound gifts Pookie has constantly given us is now added a new opening of our hearts and a renewed awareness to the transient nature of biological life. Our lesson is to never take our loved ones for granted, to cherish each moment of our lives and relationships as if they were our last, which with Pookie they in fact were ... Love to you all dear friends, ~ ronjon Ron Jon Anastasia __________________________ Pookie Eulogy ----------------- by Kim on Sun 25 Nov 2007 04:24 PM PST Our dear cat, Pookie, made his transition on Friday, November 23, 2007, at 2:33 p.m. PST. Ron introduced Pookie to this webzine several weeks ago (see Ode to Pookie - Oct. 30, 2007) when Pookie was first diagnosed with congestive heart failure and chronic renal failure. Pookie is an elegant and noble creature who hung on for a few more weeks, probably for the benefit of the humans he owned (Ron and me) and not for his own sake. He had rebounded after his initial hospitalization, but had begun declining again on Wednesday, November 21. On the morning before his passing, he would take no food or water whatsoever and he looked at me imploringly with those beautiful eyes and that powerful stare, and we both knew that it was time. I took him later that day to Advanced Veterinary Care in Los Angeles where his wonderful and caring Vet, Dr. Kobayashi, examined him and determined that his problems were advancing and there was now fluid entering his lungs caused by the insufficient pumping of his enlarged heart. Anything they could do for him would be palliative at that point. It was concluded that the best thing for Pookie was to put him to sleep as his condition could not improve and would only worsen. I didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already had. The decision was not an easy one and I prayed to the Mother for Divine right action and the highest good of all concerned. His transition was a deeply moving and a very spiritual experience for me, the more so as I felt the Mother and Sri Aurobindo’s presence throughout. Dr. Kobayashi and the staff were extremely sensitive and caring. The process was quick and painless for Pookie. He was wrapped comfortably in a warm blanket and we laid him on his favorite soft sleeping cushion. Shortly before the injections began, Pookie began purring, which I took as a very good sign since he hadn’t purred the entire day (and he was a great and constant purrer). There were four injections and I’m not sure what they all did, except that one would help him relax. The last injection was an overdose of a barbituate. The process took only a couple of minutes. After his passing, I imagined that he was taken up in the Mother’s arms where I can see him still, sitting on her lap, purring. I know this is probably my own imaginings, but it comforts me to know that he is in a wonderful place now, surrounded by the Mother’s love. The human animal bond is indescribably rich and Pookie gave us so much. He taught us about fairness and gentleness, patience and play, and unconditional love. He was a beautiful animal in every way and I especially remember the elegance of his sphinx-like stance and a clarity in his gaze. Since Ron and I discovered the work of Mother and Sri Aurobindo, and I mean no arrogance by the statement, we called him our Sri Aurobindo cat. Pookie always had the quality of the regal and the ethereal, like a great lion. He would often gaze out across some cat horizon, looking meditatively at who knows what, undisturbed by all that was around him unless there was some mention of food. In the presence of food, he became one great wag and delighted generally in everything edible. He reached 17 pounds as a result, but had slimmed down to 12 or 13 pounds in recent years. Pookie also showed me that, during times of great pain or sorrow, there is the joyous opportunity to turn oneself over to the Divine and to allow the Divine resolution to flow through the human and manifest a hint of itself somewhere in matter. Perhaps Pookie gave of himself so the possibility of this might occur. It was only later that I realized his transition occurred during the anniversary of Sri Aurobindo’s descent of the overmind. It was also nearly a full moon. An auspicious time indeed. This was certainly a Sri Aurobindo cat! I suppose we will be learning and resonating from the experience of Pookie’s passing for a long time, and healing too. The nature of grief is mystifying, the more so as it exists so powerfully over the passing of a cat. Pookie, Pookie, Pookie. You elegant creature. You have given us everything and in the peacefulness of your passing, reminded us once again that in the end there is only love. . . I love you, Pookie, always and forever, my big, elegant, adorable, beautiful white cat. May the hug of the Divine be ever upon you, and love always surround you. . . ~ Kim Anway-Anastasia _____________ Reply ------- Re: Pookie Eulogy by RY Deshpande on Tue 27 Nov 2007 06:26 AM PST | Profile | Permanent Link What a poignant eulogy for the exceptional creature! and what a piece! Apropos of grief and pain with Pookie’s departure you might like to read the last paragraph in my article just posted at: www.sciy.org/blog/_archi...3378135.html RYD

Sir Pookie

2007-10-31T19:42:24Z

Marina del Rey Tues. Evening Oct. 30, 2007 by Ron Jon Anastasia Our beloved cat Pookie, a handsome male white long-hair that we adopted as a rescue kitty 7 years ago, has been very sick over the past few days. It started this past Friday. I had fed him one of his favorite canned cat foods, the chicken kind. He had eaten most of it when he suddenly started vomiting it all back. He's of course done that before, Kim always said he was expelling hairballs from licking his long hair. But this time he vomited again and again, I counted 5 times and then another dry heave when Kim came home from work that afternoon. Kim immediately knew that Pookie was seriously ill, but I kept thinking that he probably had swallowed something (lots of little toys around for our new little kittie, Cindy Lou) and that he'd be ok. Kim slept on the couch in the living room with him that night, and Sascha (our beautiful Siamese that we adopted 5 years ago to keep Pookie company) joined him in their usual position, sleeping on top of Kim's big fluffy pink bathrobe that she spreads out for them on top of her body. They both love her so much. They're really our children (since we have decided not to have human ones), and Kim especially treats them like her kids — she even calls herself "Mom" and me "Dad." Pookie is such a special kitty. He has a genteel dignity about him; a kind of kingly nobility. For example, he has graciously greeted Kim and/or me at the door every single day for the last seven years. I assume that he recognizes our footsteps coming down the hall, but maybe he's just telepathic, who knows? As we unlock the door, we often see him coming down the stairs from our mezzanine office where he sleeps during the day while we're gone. Or he beats us to the door and gracefully steps aside as we unlock it and swing it inward. Pookie says hello with a big "Meowwww" — he's so obviously happy to see us; it's really endearing. Anyway, on Saturday we brought him to a nearby veterinary clinic and they did all kinds of tests. The results didn't look good. Both his heart and liver systems were in major breakdown. The vets recommended we bring him to a veterinary hospital on Sunday for a specialized exam by a feline cardiologist (I didn't know such creatures existed). After another whole round of tests, the very nice young woman doctor also said it didn't look good for Pookie, that he was showing all the signs of death from old age. We hadn't really thought of Pookie as old since he had always been so healthy, but when we thought about it, we realized that he was probably at least 5 years old when we got him, which means he's at least 12 years old now. And that converts to well over 60 years old for a human. And we do know that he had been through some very hard times before we got him, which may have set the stage for some the problems that are only now showing up. So for the past few days, Kim and I have been totally focused on Pookie. He wouldn't eat or drink anything over the weekend so the vets put him on intravenous liquids to bring him out of what had quickly become severe dehydration. He was so weak, he could hardly open his eyes, and we thought we were losing him. That forced us to confront the real possibility that we'd have to "put him down," to prevent him from suffering. We've been researching the options and have found a local Vet who is certified to come to your home and administer 3 shots in a very human fashion. The first is a sedative that puts the kitty into a normal sleep, then two shots that are an overdose of an anesthetic to complete the euthanasia process. We decided to bring him home on Sunday night so he could be in his own home to make his transition, and I've stayed with him full-time for the past two days, while Kim has gotten home as soon as she can from her work. As we watched Pookie deteriorate (which was driving Sascha emotionally nuts, she and Pookie had become such close friends), Kim and I have both been experiencing surprising depths of grief. It comes in waves of almost overwhelming sorrow, uncontrollably crying alone and then in each other's arms, that seem way out of proportion over an aging cat who has led a wonderful life with us in our little family for the past seven years. We've been looking this up on the net and have been amazed to discover that it's not that unusual, that the loss of a loved family pet has evoked a profound sense of loss for many people. And Kim and I, in between our bouts of literally wailing, have come to realize what a profound gift Pookie is giving to us. We are realizing on an experiential level how very precious every moment of life is, especially our close family relationships and friends, and how important it is to set our priorities accordingly, to stop putting off till tomorrow, to not take anyone for granted, and most of all to fully express in each moment the love we feel for one another and our family and friends. Kim has always had a deep relationship with our pets, but I hadn't realized how deep my attachment to them has become. And now I love them all so much; I can hardly believe the change that has come over me. I told Kim today that I felt like my heart had been "blasted open." Thank you Pookie, you are such an amazing being. And now a remarkable thing is happening. Pookie, against all medical odds, seems to be staging some kind of comeback. He's started eating and drinking again, small amounts at a time, and hasn't vomited anything up. And he seems to be slowly and incrementally recovering his strength. It may be the antibiotics we've been mixing with his food (he has a high white blood cell count, so he may have an infection, which the vets said could have been the causal agent for his sudden decline), or it may be just the abundance of love Kim and I have been showering upon him. We're trying not to be overly optimistic, since, according to all the specialists, the extent of his organ deterioration makes a full recovery unlikely and he could relapse at any moment. We are grateful that we're having this time to be with him again and to say our goodbyes. He's even been greeting Kim at the door again when she comes home from work. And to see his beautiful eyes shining with that inner light again, well, what more can I say, we feel so blessed for every extra moment we're now having with our beloved Pookie. We will always remember him. It somehow seems appropriate to close with today's quote from the Mother, Sri Aurobindo's colleague: O Lord,... may Thy Beauty spread through all the earth, may Thy Love be kindled in every heart and Thy Peace reign over all. Love, ~ ronjon

Kim at South Lake, CA

2007-10-23T08:44:21Z

Near Lake Tahoe.

Kim headshot (in Catalina?)

2007-10-23T08:39:08Z

Ronjon

2007-11-19T08:32:55Z

This is me on our beautiful Marina del Rey beach in LA, California, USA. It's just a ten minute walk from our home. My wife Kim and I jog or walk on this beach several times a week, and sometime fly kites there too. - I am grateful to live in such a beautiful place!

K&R sailing off Kauai

2007-11-19T08:28:08Z

My beloved wife Kimi

"Miracle Grow" - BM '05

2007-10-14T21:38:49Z

Thanks to Kala for this image from my first Burning Man

Don't Await It. Create It !

2007-10-14T21:17:45Z

Creating it in community is what I love ...

She holds us in eternal compassion

2007-10-13T22:25:00Z

Thanks to Kala for this beautiful image ...

Matrimandir Mirrored

2007-10-13T18:35:24Z

UrnAmphitheatre.jpg

2007-09-22T09:58:35Z