Dragonfly Ranch Circles of Life Info

--I wrote this this the morning of Jan. 14:

A few hours ago, before going to swim with the dolphins, I ran over my dear little Pomeranian, Kavika, while driving up the drive. I saw him and knew he was not getting out of the way like he always has, so I was driving slowly. I thought he went to the side until I got to the top and found that I had crushed his head. I screamed in agony. It was devastating
to hold his lifeless body in my arms. My “sister” Carolyn put her loving arms around me, with Kavika sandwiched between us. Then Carolyn found a towel to wrap him in and we both took rescue remedy. We held each other, crying, comforting one another as we tried to adjust to this sudden change.

My poor guests waiting for me to take them to swim with the dolphins witnessed it all. Not wanting to ruin their plans, I left Kavika in the loving arms of a peaceful Carolyn, tears falling down her face, and I continued with the plan to take the guests to Hookena Beach. They told me they understood if I cancelled and did not want to impose. “The best thing I can do is have the dolphins swim with me,” I told these two, beautiful guests who are in the bloom of
love. They so longed to have a spiritual experience with the dolphins. It was true that the dolphins would heal my soul. In the embracing arms of mother ocean, the dolphins heard my
sobbing and came to comfort me. Slowly they swam beside me, over and over. As they looked in my eyes, I felt their healing compassion. The ripping loss of Kavika subsided.
The good thing is that Kavika didn’t suffer. And for the last two days, almost as if he knew what was coming, Kavika was needy and both Carolyn and I held him and loved him more than usual. He got a bath and danced and we invited him into our respective beds because he was asking for extra love.

So Kavika died at the age of 9, well loved. I am so thankful this I was the one responsible for this rather than a guest. If such an accident were meant to happen to Kavika, best that it was me behind the wheel. Of course I feel terrible--but I know time will heal my heart. I feel myself adjusting to this different reality as I write. I have my sweet little Makana beside
me, kissing away my tears. Carolyn has Kiki with her. We are very fortunate to have these two furry angels called Pomeranians. Makana has Kavika genes (grandfather and whoops, father) that make her especially sweet and dear in that uniquely Kavika vein of gentle spirit. Hopefully, Makana (means gift) will have puppies, carrying on his peace-loving
lineage. I plan to dig Kavika’s grave here at the Dragonfly Cottage where I am moving. This is where I wanted to have a grave for the Unknown Soldier. Kavika is the perfect sentry to watch over the soldiers of all wars who have died in battle—be it protecting their land, their freedom or dying senselessly following orders from out-of-control “leaders” such as ours. When I see young men dying in our present crazy war, I feel so sad. I found myself
sobbing one night when I saw a photo of a handsome young soldier who was killed.
My brilliant and loving therapist friends from Europe, Martyn and Theresa (www.soulwork.org), listened to how I felt. They felt compassion for my pain. They asked me where I carried that pain. “In my chest,” I told them as I pointed to my heart, crying again as I remembered the feeling. Martyn asked the profound question: “Is that where it belongs?”
I knew the answer was a definite No. It was wise of Martyn to suggest that I remove that pain from my body and make a grave for the Unknown Soldier here on my land.
Now...I have the perfect little being, always the gentle soul and peace maker of the family, in a grave next to this meaningful tomb. Kavika’s name means Beloved. In my mind, all the soldiers (as well as all the civilian victims) who have died in all wars throughout time will now have our loyal and beloved friend, Kavika, beside them forever. For some reason, perhaps
because of my part in his transition, it comforts my soul to think that he is carrying on his purpose.
Ho.

Later, with the kind assistance of brother Phoenix and sister Carolyn I placed Kavika’s little body in a grave beneath the tall Wiliwili tree. The three of us built a small monument with lava rocks and put a temple on it with a lavender candle burning inside. A lovely reminder of a dear friend who is no longer in the physical form. Carolyn mentioned how she will miss the way Kavika "snorted" to us--his recent invented way of talking. We will no longer have the joy of having this serious little guy gazing deep into our eyes. We used to laugh when Phoenix deemed this “soulful” _expression to be because he was a "French existentialist who
lost his beret in the tsunami." On the couch or carpet Kavika would do leg exercises while making a growling noise. (He never growled for real). Whenever growling happened, Kavika would place himself between the growlers. In his life, Kavika stood for love and harmony. Good that this little peace maker is now a sweet and noble guardian, buried beside our
memorial for all the souls who suffered loss of life during wars.

Having Kavika’s life snuffed so suddenly makes me pause to think that it can happen to any of us at any time. I appreciate that I, and my dear friends, are alive. I am grateful that we are able share our love. That is why I am sharing this with you, my friends.

Barbara Kenonilani