The Wisdom of Patty

This morning I was at my Sunday meditation circle and prior to commencing service we were chatting about how some people, no matter their age, are full of life and health and vitality. And how on the contrary there are those who at 35 seem old or heavy or unhealthy.

Patty, who will be 76 next month and reminds me a lot of my mother, said she doesn't pray for people to get well. She prays for people's highest good.

She said, paraphrasing, "I can't judge. I don't know their history or their life story. I don't know their previous life story or why they are here in this life. Maybe they are supposed to be how they are. So, I pray for their highest good and potential, that they fulfill what it is they are here to do."

Interesting.

Speaking of age, Wes, who will be 87 in March, was part of this conversation. He is full of kindness, light and life and just had cataract surgery and his blue eyes sparkle again. And Regina, who will be celebrating her 88th birthday in our Line Dance class this Wednesday, isn't picky about cake. But she is particular about her collection of fashionable cowboy boots for dance.

May we all reach out toward our highest potential. May we be inspired by those around us. May we accept each other as who we are as we truly don't know from where we came.

Om. Peace. Amen.

My Dogs Aren't Just Cute

I may have mentioned our rogue rooster before. If he isn't careful, there may not be much more to mention about him!

This pesky rooster just goes out of his way to find me and attack me. Yes, I have tried all the things people say to do to let him know who's boss, but he just doesn't buy it. My left shin has what seems might be a permanent reminder of one of his attacks.

This afternoon I went in the hen pen to feed and only Baby was there. Not unusual, she usually stays close to home while the others are off on any part of the ranch at any given moment. We had our little chat, she said thank you and out I went.

I was outside the hen house collecting eggs and out of nowhere Peep Peep comes charging at my legs! I caught the flash of his tailless body as he lunged forward and I was able to get my foot out to push him back. As I was grabbing the broom--he is relentless--I was yelling, "Bodie!"

In no time did my caped Mini Australian Shepherd come running around the hen pen, he looked up at me to get the okay and he went to work. Bodie is a herding dog. Peep Peep got herd.

Because this has happened, oh I don't know how many times before, we've got a routine. Bodie runs him around for a bit then looks back at me for the signal to come back-- or no signal.

I mean, how comforting is that to know that I can call out for my dog and he will come running ready for whatever job is awaiting him?!

Now Pinkie, she's more of a chewer than a chaser. She now understands that the ducks and hens are not part of her free-choice plate, but I always keep a close eye on her as she tends to crouch and stalk.

Two days ago I was again at the hen pen and Peep Peep comes after me (this time he hit me hard but I had on my tall boots, just a little ouch.) I called out, "Bodie!" Pinkie was just beside me and from the distress in my voice, she knew her momma needed help.

I wasn't quite sure how it was going to turn out for Peep Peep but my girl had learned the lesson well. She immediately darted toward him and had him running--faster than Bodie makes him run. When I called her off, she came back to me right away just as Bodie was keying in on the rooster from the other side.

Honestly, I have never felt so protected and loved as by these dogs. Larry keeps telling me, "They'll never let anyone near you" but what do I know about those things. He's right.

My superhero and supershero watch me like a hawk (bad analogy around here) and they want nothing more than to make me happy and keep me safe and sound. And let's face it, that cookie they get when we go back in the house isn't that bad either.