I had a very special anniversary this week that seemed orchestrated from above. It's hard to believe a whole year has gone by since my precious cat and friend Clara went to kitty heaven and as it happens, on the exact day of her death, I had to make a trip to the same veterinarian to have my new Lulu vaccinated.

I was somewhat anxious corralling Lulu into her kitty collar and convincing her that she would be having some fun with a needle, but I managed to get her into gear and out the door without too much fuss.

It was a chilly late afternoon, and as this was only Lulu's second outing, she was shivering in my arms but straining to see what was going on in the wild world around her. I chatted with her as we walked the few blocks to where we had to go and the fact wasn't far in my thoughts that I had made this same walk exactly one year ago as I brought my dearly departed Clara along this exact path to her final rendez-vous with the vet. As we rounded a particular corner, my body suddenly went into what I would call a spasm of muscle memory and breathing became very difficult and painful. I know this pain from past trauma and knew I wasn't having a heart attack but the acuteness of the sensation made it clear that, in no uncertain terms, I was treading on traumatic ground. Keeping Lulu calm and staying in motion helped the episode to pass in less than a moment or two and we eventually made it to our destination on time.

Lulu is a wonderful teacher in fearlessness and, with only a couple of her very feminine yet effective hisses to show for it, her vaccination was done and we were on our way home in no time. Back at the ranch she showed me that our outing had bonded us even more and she stuck close to me for the rest of the evening, purring and twitching her tail in a most playful and flirtatious way.

Not taking my struggling body for granted, I decided to take my bicycle, and my lungs, out for a ride to a friend's home in weather that can only be described as an exercise in artic appreciation. I needed to breathe deeply and connect to this pain which was actually a wonderful reminder of a wonderful friend. I didn't want to ignore it and as I cycled through the icy wind I laughed instead of cried and felt lucky to be alive, not to mention happy to survive near hypothermia.

This physically challenging episode reminded me of a recent incident I had in Barbados where I was visiting family and looking after their dogs one day. My family's two dogs had gotten together and had puppies and on this particular day a second puppy was sold. Moments later, the male dog went into a seizure and I was very frightened that he might not survive. After many hugs and much consoling he was back on his feet and I don't wonder if this wonderful dad of a dog didn't feel the loss of one of his own offspring very deeply. His beautiful, strong exterior didn't hide his big heart inside that had literally taken a tumble. How fragile are those who love and yet how life affirming this fragile love can be.