Ears Spread Like Wings

Last Monday, we woke to a shock that still hasn’t settled in our hearts—we found Avión mysteriously dead. This, the morning after joyfully writing about our dogs in last week’s blog.

As always, Amy prepared breakfast for MaliNalli and Avión—they eat when we do. Mali, who sleeps indoors, was already waiting by her bowl. But Avión, our faithful watchdog who slept on the front porch, didn’t appear. He always came running. This time he didn’t come at all.

After a few uneasy minutes, our neighbor’s dog, Oso, showed up for his usual treat… but still no Avión.

Then I heard Amy cry out from the front, “He is dead! Avión is dead!”
My heart dropped. She had found him lying just outside our front gate.

Moments later, Oso seemed to reveal what might have happened. He trotted to a small opening in the fence on the steep hill beside our driveway and pushed his head under the chain-link. Avión was a master escape artist—our little Houdini—forever squeezing through tiny gaps to patrol the perimeter. It seems he may have tried slipping through that opening, become caught, and strangled.

I lifted him gently and laid him on our front porch table.

Amy sobbed. We ran our hands over his stiff body—no wounds, no bruises, no sign of violence. His tongue protruded slightly. We kept asking ourselves how this could have happened. Maybe someone found him earlier and moved him. Maybe something else occurred. Life in our village holds both kindness and cruelty; we’ve seen both.

Just the day before, I had taken all three dogs for a walk. Everything had been normal. And the night before, I had written about him and Mali—about Mali’s new portrait and Avión’s shy, soulful presence.

Today our hearts are heavy. We called him Avión—“airplane” in Spanish—because of the two big ears he stretched out like wings. He was our adopted “boy,” full of love, vulnerability, and quiet devotion. We rescued him as a terrified street puppy, and over time he became part of our family.

I posted a short tribute on Facebook yesterday. More than two thousand people responded. Their kindness helps, but the silence he has left behind is immense.

Life here in the village is raw and unpredictable. One moment everything is ordinary—the next, the world tilts. Losing Avión has reminded us, painfully, how fragile the beings we love truly are. But it has also reminded us of something deeper: that love, once given, does not end. It remains, like a quiet flame, illuminating even the darkest corners of our days.

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Do animals continue on?

In the hours after burying him, I found myself asking a question I’ve never felt so urgently: Does a creature like Avión continue on in some way, as human souls do?
Across spiritual traditions, there are gentle yet meaningful hints that the answer may be yes.

In the Bahá’í writings, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá describes the animal kingdom as a sign of God’s perfection—beings who feel love, joy, loyalty, and sorrow. Creation, He says, does not simply vanish but transforms, and nothing that reflects divine qualities is lost.

The Hebrew scriptures remind us that humans and animals “share the same breath,” and humbly admit that no one truly knows the path of an animal’s spirit. Christian mystics wrote that animals return to the embrace of the One who fashioned them, because love is never wasted. Islam teaches that all creatures are “communities like you,” and that all will be gathered to God.
Eastern traditions speak openly of the continuity of animal consciousness beyond physical life.

And then there are the countless individuals who, in moments near death or deep vision, have spoken of meeting beloved animals again—whole, luminous, and free of fear.

I do not pretend to know the architecture of the next world. But I know this: Avión lived with love, and love is never extinguished. Whatever spark animated his gentle eyes and anxious heart came from a divine source. And what comes from that source, I believe, returns to it.

If there is a meadow of light in the next world, may he be running there now—ears spread like wings, finally free.

Here is our Xolo dog Mali and Avión (gold color) adopted from the street, during a happy time:  

She Is Gone

Once in a while I pull out the leash to walk our two dogs to neighboring fields in the afternoon. They love it. When Mali Nalli, our Xoloitzcuintle, hears the word “walk” and sees the leash she goes frantic with happiness, jumping in the air with all four feet off the ground. Avión, our adopted stray boy gets excited too, whimpering in delight, then running to the front gate.

There are a couple dog packs nearby, so I have to guard MaliNalli until we are in the clear, then I can take the leash off. She loves to playfully attack Avión as we walk.

Mali Nalli

Recently, I walked with the dogs at close to 5 PM to the usual place⏤a corn field that is now just cut dried stalks and dry earth. We have to follow a couple dirt roads to get there. I turned into the field and decided to go left instead of the usual right in order to explore a different view. After maybe 100 feet, I turned to see Avión by my side, but Mali Nalli was nowhere to be seen. I whistled, which is her cue to come to me. Nothing. Concerned, I went to the road thinking she had found something interesting that had been thrown there. I whistled loudly but no response. 

Soon I became rather frightened as my mind began running with various possibilities⏤none of them good. My biggest fear was she had been stolen by somebody who saw her. She is beautiful, in good shape and her breed is famous in Mexico. Stuff like that happens. In the news lately has been the disappearance of a beautiful young woman in training to be a doctor who left work at a local hospital one night and has been missing ever since.

I walked around whistling, with heart pounding as I thought about telling Amy who was busy making dinner at home. She would have a heart attack I thought. 

I reluctantly started back to the house, Avión beside me. “Where is she?” I said, hoping he would lead me to her. He stayed by my side. At a nearby home I walked into the property looking. Several young men were outside working. I asked in my broken Spanish, saying “Where is my little dog? She is gone.” They had not seen her. I harbored faint suspicions, as I turned to go home. 

Avión and I reached our locked gate. As I opened it, Mali Nalli began barking from inside the house! She appeared at the window, barking excitedly. I almost cried with relief. WTF? I thought. Inside, Amy said, “She came charging in without you. I was worried.” 

I said, “I thought something bad happened. She disappeared. I went calling her but she was nowhere to be found. I thought she had been stolen.”  

Both of us stood there, flabbergasted until I looked at the clock and saw it was just past 5. Amy had been home making dinner, and 5 PM is when the dogs are fed each day.

“She came home for dinner!” I said.

“How did she get in past the locked gate?” Amy asked.

We both laughed with relief, realizing what most likely had happened and that we had our family together safe and sound.

Give It To The Dogs

 

Give it to the dogs this week. I will explain in a moment.

At long last, the old tires that served as steps out front of our grand house are replaced by stone and mortar. I had a masonry contracting business forty five years ago⏤so old skills came in handy. The steps properly give a grander entrance to our home from our gate and parking area. 

Back to the dogs. We have two: MaliNalli is our proper house pet and a pedigree Xoloitzcuintle, the famous native Mexican breed. Avión is a dog that showed up on our property, starved and living on trash. He was in such bad shape that although we were helping two other dogs in similar plight, Amy fed him against my advise and he stuck to us like glue. The other two dogs are gone. One killed by mongrels and the other went back to former owners. Avión is our outdoor dog. We had him neutered and given vaccinations. His name means “airplane” in Spanish. His ears stand out like wings when he is attentive. Avión will always have problems. He would certainly be dead by now if left to himself.

Recently, MaliNalli became listless and scared us. She had a temperature of 105. The breed normally runs high temps but we were very concerned. A drive to the vet takes forty minutes. We took her for tests. At the gate when we arrived home, was Avión, covered with blood. I thought there had been an accident. Soon I saw blood spurting from his nose and he was snorting it out in red blasts of droplets. Turns out both dogs have been affected by ticks. Avión has parasitic worms around his heart and probably in his nasal passages. We have made long trips to the veterinary clinic every two days for checkups, injections, tests . . .

The dogs seem to be on the mend. MaliNalli is back to her old self and Avión has had only one brief bleeding spell. We have been advised to keep the two apart, since Avión is in much more trouble and could infect MaliNalli. MaliNalli has had a series of four injections and both dogs are on pills for two weeks. Whew! A handful.   

Americans that visit or move to Mexico are shocked at the condition and circumstances of the dog population. They can be seen roaming streets⏤maimed, hobbled with broken limbs, starving or with mange. Humans seldom take animals to vets for vaccinations or to be neutered. They are left on their own in poverty and blight. Not to say all Mexican dogs are like this.

A couple days ago, Pilar, the girl who lives in the large family above us on our hill showed up at our gate in the morning. Several puppies were missing. Their mother had been run over by a car, so the story went. Her grandmother heard puppies crying during the night. The sound came from our property. MaliNalli had been running up the hill sniffing the ground. Close to our property line, under a big fallen cactus in a cove in the ground, amidst dense underbrush, two squealing puppies were found. They were newborns and did not have their eyes open yet. Strangely, a bowl was there. Amy asked, and Pilar said it came from her house. Amy asked if someone had put the puppies there. Pilar looked confused and did not answer. She was very happy cuddling the pups in her arms as she left. 

Amy and I have never visited these particular neighbors who have been troublesome. Yet some of the kids come to our home on Sundays for art classes, free materials and refreshments. We love the children. 

We often hear of animals mysteriously dying up there. We have found a dead dog on our land, and at least once saw a father from the hill clan racing down with a bag to empty somewhere by a creek. Probably dead puppies. 

The night after finding the pups, after watching our evening movie, we went outdoors to stand in the fresh air and let MaliNalli do her business. Amy heard whimpering from above. We went to the cactus log and I could hear the crying. After searching with a flashlight, I managed to pull a pup from out of the earth. It was too young to have its eyes open. We fed it warm milk and put it in a dog kennel for the night. The next morning we called the grandmother and within seconds three children were at our gate. Pilar took the pup with joy and her little brother said, “How sweet!”