Bones Would Rain from the Sky: Deepening Our Relationships with Dogs (46 page)

other people who are like that, not us! Not us, the
animal lovers, the ones who love furred and feathered ones more
than we love our own kind. Look how kindly we
treat you, how fervently we defend you, how much
love and attention we shower on you! You can't turn
away from us," we would cry. And if the animals
continued on, their backs to us, unwilling to be with us,
a quiet whimper might be heard, "If you leave
us, who then will love us?"
And the dogs might look back at us and softly
ask, "How is it that you've missed the most
important lesson of them all?" By example,
relentlessly, willingly, and so very well, dogs show
us the importance of love offered without judgment or
condition. They show us the value of being accepted as we
are. And they show us, over and over again, that a life
spent loving even misguided, confused, unsure
human beings is a life well spent. All that our
dogs might bring into our lives pales before this
challenge to learn how to love each other as they love
us. It is the work of a lifetime, to be sure, but
we've chosen well when we choose to keep our
cold-nosed angels at our side for the journey.
Just above a dog's paw, where rough pad
curves in fullness outward and upward and then, giving
way to fur, turns back in toward the body, there
is a hollow. Framed by the living steel of sinew and
bone, that hollow fits my thumb as if made by my
own thumbprint long ago, perhaps in another lifetime
when I was handmaiden to a minor goddess. If even
a minor goddess is granted the powers to shape things
in small ways, then I might have asked for just one
thing for the future me: this hollow here just above a
dog's paw. And I would have asked for this so that at some
moment in the future the perfect fit of my thumb
into that place would serve as a reminder that since time out
of mind, for lifetimes without measure, my soul and this
dog's had been together, intertwined in the great ocean of
life. In wondering if the hollow was shaped to fit
my thumb or my thumb to fill that hollow, I would
remember that we are all holder and held, teacher and
taught, guide and guided. I would set this hollow
here for my future self to remember that even when a
heartbeat no longer pulsed faintly under my hands,
when my thumb reluctantly stilled its gentle
rhythms of stroking the soft fur, our connection would go
on. In this simple, sweet hollow, I would mark
the dog as my fellow traveler, and my teacher.

How do we possibly measure the grace
granted us by our dogs?
Capable of dramatic teachings, our dogs also move
subtly but as relentlessly as water, the flow of their
spirit working within us in ways we may not even know. How
do we know what it is they have helped us to learn?
Sometimes, this is how we discover the changes: Every
step we take is different, easier, informed by knowledge that
has quietly, surely soaked deep into our
bones. This understanding seems so right, answers the thirst
within us so well we may forget how freshly we have
come to this, forget who we were before we embraced this
wisdom. Our heads tell us that once, somehow, in
a way we can no longer remember, we did move
through the world without the understanding that we now possess. We
are grateful but mystified, and we wonder how we
ever found our way with such a faulty map. Somehow,
we did find our way, and we will keep moving
forward. And always, traveling beside us, the angels who
both guide and guard us.
Coursing through our veins as surely as our own blood
are the lessons we have mastered through effort, and through no
small measure of grace gifted us by the animals
who serve as our teachers. We could no more
separate ourselves now from what we know, what we have
learned, than we could strip the marrow from our own
bones. Folding into ourselves what we have learned as
well as what we have blindly accepted in faith, often
without fully understanding it, trusting simply that it was a
great and good gift, we grow. And as we stretch, the
bonds of fear that seemed so mighty once, when we
were smaller than we are today, begin to fray, become
weak attempts to bind us to a lesser version of
ourselves. When we drink from the well of wisdom, our
souls begin to stir and stretch, awakening from a slumber
we did not know was so deep. With growing hope, we
understand that we can learn to fly. Fledglings, we perch
on the edge of our lives and begin to flap our wings in
the sure knowledge that we are growing toward the day when we
throw ourselves onto the wind and trust to its flow.
acknowledgments
in early february 1997,1 wrote a letter that began
"It's only fair to warn you. There's something in my
brain, and it's trying to get out." And friends and
supporters answered with the help I needed. I was
right- there was
something in my brain, and it's now made its escape.

But on that cold February night, I could
not have foreseen that it would be almost exactly four years
later before I was able to say "Here. This is what your
love and support have made possible." For their
patience, generosity and belief that I had something of
value to say, I offer this book to the people who answered
that letter. Though I would love to say something about each and
every one of these fine folk, it is best perhaps to simply
say that they and their dogs have made a profound
difference comeach in their own way-in my life. The
dogs listed for each person may not be the dogs who
accompany them today through life, but they are the dogs that
appear in my mind's eye, forever and always at the
side of the person they loved and who loved them:
Annabell Minty
(misty, Shane, Meggie);
Steve Reiman
(lily, Jordan]",
Sarah Johnson
(nokomis);
Mike Johnson; Kit Burke and Terry
Modlesky
(destiny);
Nancy Beach
(rosie, Honor);
Bill Carroll
(tasha, Kansas);
Barbara Warner
(casey);
Marge Wappler
(joker);
Linda Caplan
(jagger, Dodger, Queenie, Brutus);
Deb Gillis
(nugget, Strider, Sterling);
Claire Moxim
(andy);
Betty Ferrare; Pat Barlow
(schoen, Gina);
Harriet Grose; Wayne Rebarber
(misha);
Anne and Ray Smith; Marian Nealey
(sam);

acknowledgments

Mary Legge
(utah, Chance, Tira, Cruiser, Trooper);
Bonnie Goldberg Rubin; Beth Taylor
(woody, Tessa);

Chris Civil
(indy, Alex);
Joy Nutall
(devon, Halo);
Cliff Peabody
(little John, Gunner);
Rose Ellen Dunn
(blaze, Kelly, Finn);
Dale and Peter Demy
(lucky, Rowdy);
Sherry Holm
(jim, Dax);
Paul Koehler
(ilka, Cree, Redbone);
Amelie Seelig
(sailor, Tammy);
Gail James
(buddy, Chance);
Deb Hutchinson
(joppa, Gage, Josh);
Jane Guy
(jenny, Kosmo);
Cecilia Hoffman
(mouse, Charlie);
Janet Devich
(aneaka, Cyrus, Morgan);
Marietta Huber
(licorice);
Billie Rosen
(cam);
Rosemary Rybak
(jamie, Teddy, Zena, Sesame, Hannah);
Lynne Fickett
(jazz, Sizzle, Chase);
Diana Hoyem
(land);
and Tom O'Dowd
(buddy).
Special thanks to my friends Cheryl Smagala
(prince, Token, Nikki, Axel);
Karen Lessig
(tonya, Castor, Reveille, Ana,
Caber);
and Kathy and Karl Huppert
(george, Ruffy, Mr. P, Samara).
They have seen me through more than a few ups and downs
and a few head-on collisions with life.
For her unflagging encouragement to make this book a
reality, my thanks to Dr. Helen Greven
(angus).

For her diligent work as critical reader,
my thanks to Beth Levine
(owen, Wren);
someday she'll learn not to talk to strange
manuscripts. For helpful suggestions and comments,
I would also like to thank Dr. Thomas Blass and
Dr. Marc Bekoff
(jethro).
To my agent, Lisa Ross, I offer my immense
gratitude for her wise, patient guidance through
strange waters. Without her, I would surely have
lost sight of the shore. Many thanks to my editors,
Jackie Joiner and Jessica Papin, for their
support. To all at Warner Books, my thanks
for working so diligently to polish up
Bones and dress it in its Sunday best. With so many
talented people dedicated to this task,
Bones
cleaned up right nice.
For extraordinary service as cheerleaders,
counselors, critics and sounding boards, for having
poured hours of their own lives into mine, for the love and
support and tireless reading of yet another version,
and for unwavering belief in me, I thank Wendy
Herkert
(chance, Panda, Quill),
Katrene Johnson
(danny, Morgan),
Ginny Debbink
(doc, Annie, Beckett, Crow, Hudson),
Terry Wright (kaji),
Janie Dillon
(tristan),
Kathy Marr
(pork, Krista),
Nancy Sickels
(brook, Lark),
Judy Gardner
(garen, Tasy, Bo
and so many others) and Carter Volz
(trina, Bisser).
For reading on the deepest level of all, I thank
Marlene Sandier
(charlie, Gaia).
These are friends beyond compare, friends who would make very fine
dogs indeed.
For a lifetime of putting up with a barking daughter,

wild tales and sometimes strange
projects, for her proud support of all that I have
been and might still be, much love and unbounded thanks
to my mother, Betty Livingston. For struggling with a mother
not yet made even slightly wise by dogs and other
creatures, I thank my beloved son, Christian
Clothier.
It is important to gratefully acknowledge the
teachers who have shaped who I am. I hope that their
influence on me is evident: Linda
Tellington-Jones, Ian Dunbar, Jack and
Wendy Volhard. I would also like to thank the
teachers-or, more accurately, the heroes-I have never
met but whose work and thoughts have informed my own to a great
degree: Konrad Lorenz, Jane Goodall,
David Mech, Franz de Waal, Temple
Grandin, . Allen Boone, John Bradshaw,
Gary Zukav, Alan Watts and Dr. Bruce
Fogle.
I believe that messages and lessons are all
around us; we need only tune our hearts to hear
them. For the music that poured into me on a summer
night in Saratoga, pulsing through me at a moment
when I needed it most, for the urging to surrender the fear
and fly and for providing a remarkably inspiring
example of what is possible when you do,
I thank Michael Stipe and REM. Though
writing this book was an adventure in pushing an
elephant up the stairs and trying to keep those
flowers in full bloom, my feet were made lighter
on this journey by the music of REM beating in time with
my heart.
Writing is a solitary act, and in moving toward that
solitude, I had to move away from my best friend,
my partner, my husband, John Rice. Of all the
gifts that dogs have brought me through the years, none can
compare with this wonderful man. Without complaining, with
unfailing patience, good humor and generosity, he
shouldered an ever-increasing burden of
responsibility for our farm and animals. Only
he knows the true cost of writing this book. What
he does not fully understand is that it would have been
nearly impossible without him. And yet he still
smiles at the idea of the books yet to come.
Proving, of course, that he's much too easily
amused.
And this would not be complete without acknowledging each and
acknowledgments

every animal who has touched my life and allowed me

to touch theirs. My life has been richly
blessed by these gracious teachers. I cannot possibly
repay them, only share what they have helped me
learn. If this book helps just one person find their
way to the dance, then I will have begun in some small
measure to give appropriate thanks for the gifts
I have received.
Suzanne Clothier
Hawks Hunt Farm
recommended reading
since I AM FREQUENTLY ASKED what
books or people have influenced my own thinking, I offer
this list of recommended titles. Mind you, not all
of these titles are here because I agree
wholeheartedly with what is found between their covers.
Each of these are books that were valuable in one way
or another for me, and I believe they may also be
valuable for some readers who thirst for deeper understanding.
Some of these titles were written by people I would consider
kindred spirits who see the world very much as I do. Some
books are listed here because they provoked me
to carefully consider perspectives that I might have
missed but for the author's encouragement to think or
feel or view the world in a certain way. Some of
these books annoyed or even angered me, and so
provoked thought and discussion and a search
to make more concrete in my own mind what was more in
alignment with my soul and my philosophy.
It is never enough to flatly state "That makes no
sense to me!" or "Bah, I don't believe that!"
You must also be willing to do the work of discovering and knowing
(truly, deeply knowing) what
does
make sense to you and what it is you actually do
believe, and which direction you wish to go and why. To the
extent that you are willing to do that work, any book or
viewpoint or teaching or teacher-even if they stand in
direct opposition to what you believe-can work to your
benefit and on your behalf, strengthening your understanding of
yourself and your preferred paths through life.

recommended reading

In addition to these titles that shaped my
philosophy, there were so many events, people and animals
that cannot be referenced. Would that I could recommend
to each reader the great experience of time spent in the
company of any of those who have taught me so much: the
incredible McKinley or Valinor or my beloved
Bear, to name but a few. But I trust that when you

curl up with one of the books listed below, your
own special teachers and guides are there beside you.
Listen carefully to what they have to tell you.
I've deliberately avoided any brief
description, synopsis or even short review of
these books. I leave it to the reader to follow their own
curiosity and their own hearts and minds. Explore.
Enjoy. Stretch yourself. Listen with an open heart.
. .
Arluke, Arnold, and Clinton . Sanders.
Regarding Animals.
Philadelphia: Temple University Press,
1996. Beck, Alan, and Aaron Katcher.
Between Pets and People: The
Importance of Animal Companionship.
West Lafayette, IN: Purdue
University Press, 1996. Bolen, Jean
Shinoda.
Close to the Bone.
New York: Simon and
Schuster, 1996.
Boone, . Allen.
Kinship with All Life.
San Francisco: Harper, 1954. Bradshaw,
John.
Creating Love.
New York: Bantam Doubleday Dell
Publishing, 1993. Csikszentmihalyi,
Mihaly.
Finding Flow.
New York: Basic Books,
1998.
.
Flow.
San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991.
Dawkins, Marian Stamp.
Through Our Eyes Only? The Secret for
Animal Consciousness.
Oxford University Press, 1998. de St.
Exupery, Antoine.
The Little Prince.
New York: MacMillan
Reference Library, 1995. .
Wind, Sand and Stars.
New York: Harcourt Brace and
Company, 1939. de Waal, Franz.
Chimpanzee Politics: Power and Sex among
Apes.
London: The Johns Hopkins Press Ltd.,
1989. .