I am a Weeping Willow

8.05.09

Her name is Tfoliwe Calisilwe. (Full-e-whey) (click-a-lee-seal-whey)

It means- I have found you- you are now the first of many to come. Truly a daugther of mine she ignores the bed I have made for her and all the blankets I have lied out- she goes straight for my extra large flannel and curls up inside the sleeve. I worry she'll chocke herself trying to come out the other end of it- so I tie off the ends. She whines from inside the sleeve demanding I untie it. She always gets her way. At night she cries until I pick her up and let her sleep with me. She sleeps under my chin, curled up around my neck. Surprisingly I sleep well like this.

Meanwhile at the training site- fast forward more, "Are you scared? Not nearly frightened enough."Lectures. Word is out- Mere has taken in a puppy. PCMO and current PCV lecture us on the dangers of having a pet here. Worrying everyday if someone has stolen it while you are away, or if Mkhulu next door is beating it. The costs of vaccinations and do I bring this dog home with me or leave it after two years. Blah blah blah. Look I didn't ask for this. Im not some moron- like so many out there who seek out a puppy to fill some void in their life- afraid to to be alone. I'd rather not have a dog for the next two years. Just like i'd rather not watch a movie with a dog in it. It's like welcoming dog tragedy into my life. There's a reason I never saw Old Yeller. There's a reason I can't watch 60% of the series Planet Earth. Anytime a dog is introduced into a story my heart pre emptively aches. You get the audience attached- then BAM next thing you know you're taking the rabid dog outback and shooting it in the head, or an alien is bursting out of its rib cage, it takes a bullet for the main character, gets hit by a car, some crazy lady is trying to skin its fur for spots, it turns into a zombie and will smith is breaking its neck.

I dont want this! But I can't leave her.

Current PCV tells me she may have rabies. I roll my eyes. "OK- cat lover..."Im warned I wont be able to find anyone to watch her during OJT- PCV's are afraid she may have some disease. I offer to pay Thabeela to watch and feed her. I show her how to use a syringe (actually meant for enemas) because she is not drinking on her own. Other PCT's show concern. They ask me everyday how she is doing. PCT nurses offer me advice on what to give her.

That night I return home.

Tfoliwe is where I left her, asleep in my flannel. I get the syringe. I squeeze sugar water into her mouth. It shoots right back out. Her teeth are clinched hard. As I move her around her eyes go blank. Her head tilts to the right- she starts spinning, like a crocodile feasting on its prey in water, her upper torso spins to the right. I have to hold her still. It stops. A few minutes later her bottom lip starts to move up and down, her arms are twitching, her chin held high.

I start to weep. I panic. Things are now lining up in my head. Days of not eating and drinking- upper body paralysis and seizing. Shit Shit Shit.

It's August 5th- I had asked my mom to have Helen call me on her birthday. Phone rings- I hold back the tears. Helen keeps telling me how different I sound. I swallow hard- I ask her to put mom on the phone. Mom googles symptoms and sign of rabies in a dog. "Refusing water, upper body paralysis, seizing, stiffness in the neck mouth and arms..."I ask her what to expect next... "She's going to start foaming at the mouth, she''ll start to bite, seizing will continue until she falls into a coma- death in a few hours... Mere promise me you will keep your hands away from her mouth and see your doctor tomorrow. Please Please Please!"We talk a bit more- but I need to be there for Tfoliwe now. We hang up.

It's nearly midnight and I try not to cry- but she is still coming in and out of seizures. It's been over 4 hours now. I sit with her- in my arms, blankets between us. Like a zombie film- I sit and wait for her to turn.

Then it happens. The foam bubbles out. Her snout rolls up exposing her teeth. She starts to bite the blanket. Too weak to really puncture anything. She looks me in the eyes. Her mouth is dangerous but her eyes innocent. As she bites- they tell me she's sorry- they ask me to make it stop. I ignore the rabid mouth, I look at her and I beg her to forgive me. I tell her I'm sorry I couldnt save her- I'm sorry I couldnt take away the pain. I'm sorry I couldnt show her how beautiful my world back home is.

I look past her and see my left over bath water- still in the basin. I could end her pain right now. I could end the suffering. I walk over to the water, I kneel down, she in my arms... I hold her over the water, tears streaming down my face... I can't bring myself to do it.

I am weak. I am weak. I am weak.

Instead I speak to her. I tell her about our home I will bring her to in Seattle. I tell her about our perfect day. "Tfoliwe, we'll wake up together- you in my bed of course, we'll have breakfast, we'll pick up Brophy (because the teal mobile will be no more by then), we'll get X teen and Morgen who will be all tan from South America. We'll meet the whole gang at the most amazing place in the world- Magneson Dog Park. You'll meet Rumi- you two will discuss being a dog in Africa. She'll tell you everyone loves dogs here! They wont Shaya (beat) you. And you'll see Tfoliwe- you'll run free with them. We'll walk my usual path together. We'll reach the water- i'll force you in with me. Then we'll go to the "Rumi Spot". You two will run laps around us. We'll walk up the grassy hill just in time to watch the Seattle Sun set. You'll feel the cool breeze seperate through your hair- hold your head high- close your eyes and take in all the stories- all the smells around us. Eyes closed you'll think how all this almost didn't happen. You'll be the happiest dog in the world. I'll hold you in my arms as the sun sets behind the water. Together- souls filled with happiness..."

I hold her close now. I let her feel my heart beating. Then I watch her take her last breath... tiny waves of shivers. "Wait for me on top of that hill Tfoliwe. I'm there waiting for you."

Crumbling walls, I am a wallowing weeping willow. My heart bursts open. The weakest muscle in my body. I look at her still body in my arms, she is gone gone gone.

Lesson Two: Death is all around. Death is apart of life.

A child again at 25. My heart is weak- always has been- in two years will it callous over? One evening Nelly grabs a chicken, she holds it in her arms and as she's petting it she says to me, "We are going to slaughter and eat this chicken tonight."I put my hand on the hen-I touch her- I feel her heart racing. My eyes tear up. "Why are you sad Simphiwe?"She asks. I explain to her- the chicken does not want to die. I am being empathetic. I am feeling the chicken's pain. She laughs- what a foreign idea to her, she can't imagine feeling an animal's pain. A blessing or a curse- I do not know.

Gogo's here like to point at chickens and say "DINNER! TONIGHT! Pick one- we'll eat her.."As they cackle the American whimpers and walks away. We grow up in a world with no relationship to what we eat. In two years will I have a better understanding of this relationship? In two years I hope to slaughter a chicken. To hold her in my arms, to thank her, to know she's lived a good life and died a good death by my hands.

I fall asleep, Tfoliwe in my arms. The next day my Gogo wants to buy me a new puppy. I explain I don't need another one. Even with death Tfoliwe was the pefect storm. I am glad I found her. I know I gave her a happy 4 days and a good death. Her name was right- the first of many.

In the bigger picture- her death has shown me the importance of embracing death here. I came only wanting to be the educator- the preventor. I wanted to leave the care of the already sick for the medics. But now I see how important it is for me to see it. To have a relationship with it. My heart- a muscle- needs to be exercised.

My grandmother has told me an expression her mother once told her. "There are two kinds of women in this world- the clinging vines and the sturdy oaks and you do not want to be a clinging vine."I used to think this to be true. But now- I see- how important it is for me to let in the pain. To let in death. A weeping willow- when hit hard- she bends, she falls... a weeping willow- when she falls- she always gets right back up..

Me- a wallowing weeping willow- I am bent- but soon i'll be up again.