Canine Friend
"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened."
– Anatole France
The first time I read this quote years ago, I knew immediately that the author and I had experienced the same kind of love.
The illustration below came to life when I realized that my dog, Uma, had decided to leave and die. I had never experienced anything like it before.
When you live close to nature, your relationship with animals is different. Uma lived outdoors, under the open sky. She loved the sun, the water, and the snow. The only thing she didn't like was the rain. On rainy days, she became quiet and thoughtful… yet she always stayed outside. And she watched over me. She was always watching over me.
Last winter, she suddenly fell ill. With homeopathy and a simple cough remedy, she slowly but surely started to get better.
Then spring arrived, and with it, the return of the travelers who had spent the winter elsewhere. Uma waited patiently until everyone was back. And then, she left.
It happened exactly as I describe it here.
One morning, when I greeted her, she looked at me in a way I had never seen before. I noticed something was off, kissed her, and asked, "What's wrong, Uma?" Then she walked away.
When she hadn't returned after hours, I went searching for her. It began to rain, but she was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I set out with my other dog, Clandestino. But even together, we couldn't find her. Uma was gone.
So, we did what everyone does when they lose an animal. We asked our neighbors, posted on social media, and retraced our steps. But deep down, I already knew.
Her mother, Pom, and her grandfather, Colifa, had done the same. They said their silent goodbyes and wandered far from home to leave life behind.
Did Uma go to the same place where her ancestors had passed?
Nature is so incredibly wise. It faces death differently – without clinging, without fear.
I kept staring out the window all week, taking long walks with Clandestino… Then, one night, I dreamed of Uma. I saw her in a meadow filled with other animals on the other side of the river. She was running, playing, full of joy. When she looked at me, I called out, "Come, Uma! Come over!" But she let me know she wasn't coming. Then she turned and ran off.
The next morning, I drew this illustration: two dear friends embracing. And I created different versions of it so Uma could continue to be with me – just like all the other dogs who have touched my life and made it richer.
My friendship with Uma will last forever, just like the bond with every pet that grants us the privilege of glimpsing into their world. The freer and wilder our animals are, the more they have to teach us. We have to be present and receptive to their wisdom. Because in knowing them, in loving them, our souls are fully awakened.
Thank you for everything, my four-legged friends!
