Let It Be

The last year Finn was on this earth, I tormented myself, worrying that if he didn’t pass on his own, I wouldn’t be strong enough to say goodbye to him when he was ready. Whenever I was overthinking the blessing and curse that we, as pet parents, have that choice, I’d listen to the Beatles’ song Let It Be over and over.

As Paul McCartney sang the words, “there will be an answer, let it be,” I was soothed and reminded that I have no control over anything. I still miss Finn to this day, but I know now that I should have trusted our bond and myself more because I had no doubts whatsoever when it was time.

I’m still learning not to waste energy on what I can’t control. 

On Tuesday, one of our sous vides was displaying error messages. While I wasn’t excited about spending money to buy a new one, we need it and having multiple heating mechanisms for our final sterilization step makes all our days more manageable. After having a garage for four years, I forgot about the precautions I need to take now that I park on the street again. I placed my new sous vide on the floorboard of my car and went on with my evening.

Yesterday morning, I went to get Gavin’s harness from the car and noticed all my eyeglass lens cleaners on the sidewalk. Weird, I thought. Then, I saw my manual, glasses, and duster on my car seat. Still not fully caffeinated, I thought, “did I accidentally open the glove department?” Then, it hit me. Someone broke into my car and stole my sous vide. 

I started cleaning everything up and was simultaneously grateful that I forgot to lock my door, no broken windows, and trying to shake off the feeling of being violated. Then I realized Finn’s ashes, which I keep, so he’s on every adventure with Gavin and me, were lying on the sidewalk, not where they belong–next to me.

I reminded myself that ashes aren’t my Finn, and he’s always with me in my heart when I practice compassion and patience for myself, Gavin, and everyone I love and encounter. The most important thing to focus on was getting my sweet boy to my mom’s house so I could get to the kitchen, meet and train our new kitchen assistant, and make salmon and ricotta. 

The wiggle worm Gavin squirmed when I walked back in the door and happily let me put his harness on while I told him he was going to see his nanny. He trotted next to me and hopped in the car because he loves my mom so much, and if dogs could be grateful, I think he’d be thankful to spend two days a week with her. 

After Gavin and I got home, he was ready for a walk, so out we went. And, low and behold, my sous vide was opened but undamaged, next to my apartment. Whether a friendly neighbor placed it there or if the person who broke into my car had no use for it, I was glad I didn’t order another one. 

Sometimes inaction is the best solution, a lesson I’ll likely continue learning for many years. May your day and weekend be filled with good surprises, even if they’re small, and come after not-so-great ones.