What a Coincidence!

Said no one today.

I spent the full day at the first annual Wellness Faire hosted by my favorite local vegan restaurant, Salud Raw Food. Corrine put the idea out there and she drew in some 30+ wellness practitioners with everything from gong immersion to Reiki, to natural soap, massage and of course, Angel Card Readings.

My day started by helping my neighbors turn their canopy around.  As it turns out, my neighbors were Judy Petullo and her partner, Barb, of VegNet Bend.  Judy and I are friends on Facebook, like each other's posts, share interests, but have never met in person. Check.

At 11:11, we all gathered in a circle for an opening celebration which included a singing bowl, a beautiful spoken word of gratitude and a sweetly sung mantra, one of my favorites.  That felt right.

A woman came to my table before I had finished setting up just as I was realizing that the pretty sign I made was at home on my scanner. It was quite breezy so my candle wouldn't stay lit, neither would my sage.  She graciously offered to come back in ten minutes.

The day started out quiet, for which I was grateful, because I really needed to pull back and get grounded in why I was there.  And then the day started rolling.

One woman, a Queen of Swords, told me some things about just saying what needs to be said, saying what people may not want to hear, getting it done and how sometimes it sounds harsh, but she has incredible compassion for people. She is a Sagittarian and did I know what she means. Her reading had the Eight of Swords, referred to as the Victim Card.  I told her I didn't get the sense that it was referring to her but more to people around her.  She has ten people in her care, two are soon leaving, and just this morning she told them they have a choice to either play the victim or take control of their lives.  She also told me she took herself out last night with friends and they went to dinner and dancing at a place called Maverick's and asked if I had heard of it.

The young woman she brought with her, a very at risk gal, sat down for a reading.  She was new to Tarot but used some of her counselor's oracle cards. What powerful cards appeared for such a delicate question.  When I told her that as The Magician she has every tool she needs to bring about the change she wants to see, she beamed.  And then the Ace of Fire appeared followed by The Wheel of Fortune. In this deck, The Wheel is represented by Archangel Michael and when I asked her if she ever works with him, she pulled her medallion out from under her sweatshirt and she was radiant with hope.  She told me other people had told her it's up to her to make changes in her life, but "to hear it from you, you don't even know me" really hit home for her.

A very patient man waited for the people ahead of him and he told me he had to come over.  He wondered if he should but this morning he had seen a bluebird and when he looked over at me, there was a Western Scrub Jay hopping around beside me, and I was wearing blue.  He told me he keeps being drawn to the area near Smith Rock; he's looked at other areas, but keeps coming back.  I said, "because I live near Smith Rock?" He didn't believe me at first and then realized I was serious.  All four cards were of the suit of Water. He said, "well, you shuffled them!" and I said, "yes, but you cut them."

The readings went on and for those who know about the cards, it was one aha! moment after another.

My last reading was with another practitioner.  We were the last two in the parking lot and the sun finally was shining right over us, a little warmth to an otherwise cool day.  She mentioned living in another country, learning to speak another language and making a new life, living in several other places, being drawn to Oregon for some reason and finding Bend to be the place she couldn't find on the East coast, and as a Sagittarius, moving and starting again is exciting.  "Do you know what I mean?"

In my world, coincidence, as is typically defined, is to be expected.  Every one of those connections enriches the journey for each of us.

Funny How Things Work Out

It's been well over a year that I have been teaching dance at Maverick's and I am there every Friday night.  Tonight is an exception and it's a little strange but it actually worked out for the best.  Funny how the Universe looks after us like that.

This afternoon, Pinkie was at the vet having a laceration tended to.  When I picked her up, she was still very groggy from the sedation, her right front paw bandaged--they even used pink wrap!--and she had a cone, or crown, on her head to prevent her from pulling off her bandage and chewing on her sutures.

Her walk to the car was noticeably crooked.  Rather than put her in the way back where the dogs usually ride, it was easier to load her into the back seat.  She was much happier to be closer to me and let's face, the leather seat felt better than the mat in the back.  On the short ride home, she managed to tip over and I heard it, "crinkle. crunch."  I had stopped at Trader Joe's before picking her up and got another bag of those addicting potato chips.  She landed face first into the grocery bag.

Pinkie definitely required help getting up the stairs but more than that, help maneuvering with the crown on her head.  Bodie had no idea what to make of her and he wanted to cuddle with her but she was too out of it to realize that.

The vet gave me a plastic bag, what was originally a drip solution bag, to put over her paw if she went outside to keep the vet wrap dry and clean.  I thought Bodie and I could sneak out and feed the horses some lunch while Pink slept it off, but no, she staggered to the stairs and once again, required assistance, this time going down.

The dog door.  A cone-headed dog doesn't fit through it.  She couldn't comprehend that so it required backing her up from the door so I could open it in and let her out.  She whined while Bodie and I quickly did our chores and we rushed back in to be with her.  My boss needed a contract reviewed so I managed to squeeze in two hours of editing and writing.

As the afternoon wore on, Pinkie got a little more mobile and decided to go to her favorite place: under my bed.  Crash.  That was the crown banging up against the rails on my bed as she persisted.  Thankfully she relented after a few tries.  As she came back in the living room, Pooker took off flying across the room because the crown scared her.  This cycle happened several times over the next two hours.

When I went out to feed dinner and lock in the hens (I cannot thank the heavens enough for how easy that was tonight) before leaving for my lesson, Pinkie was a bit more alert and really wanted out of the dog yard.  So, again I put on her durable plastic bag and let her follow me.  Mistake.  I forgot how the horses reacted before when sweet Felon had a crown on her head.  Snorting and prancing, the horses wanted to figure out what the heck that beast was!  Then Shadow and Pippin were taken aback--that was short lived.  The hens were running around us and Pinkie was in a panic sensing everyone's discomfort.  Okay, back to the dog yard.

The nearly $200 vet bill took a lot of out me, in addition to my $65 oil change, so I coaxed Pinkie to her blanket on the sofa and I closed my eyes for 20 minutes.  Sort of peace and quiet.  Just before that, Pooker flew again as Pinkie walked by but she landed on the windowsill and was tripping on the view so I let her be.

As I got myself put together to head out, Pinkie was either getting stuck behind a door as she banged it closed on her way through or she'd stand there with half of her crown behind the door and other half exposed wanting to proceed forward.  Assistance required.

I left the dogs in the living area of the house when I left.  If just Bodie were outside, Pinkie would probably bark and whine and if I left Pinkie outside she wouldn't have been able to come into the garage through the dog door.  It hasn't been since a cold night last winter that they were left in the house alone.  And was she going to have any late reaction to the medication?  Did she go pee pee when we were out?  Had her system slowed down with the sedation and would she suddenly need to go out?

As I was driving to Maverick's I was reminded of the pain in my lower back.  I have no idea what I did today but Tiger Balm, heating pad and Tylenol still have not kicked it down.  It hurts.

Then I started receiving messages and texts that the power was out at Maverick's.  Apparently an entire section of town was out.  As it's just a short drive away and no one was quite certain when the power would come back on, I decided to keep going.  There was a group of us gathered in the parking lot.  A few people came over from the dance studio and The Elks Club because the power was out too and they were hoping to dance tonight like the rest of us.  What a social half hour that was!  We laughed, we listened to music on someone's phone, we researched the bird that was diving in and around us, a Nighthawk, and we talked dance.  Playful.  That was one of the cards I drew today.

The word came down that the power wouldn't be on until at least 10:30 so my lesson was canceled.  Then word came down that the DJ was leaving, so there would be no music.  Then the cook left, so no chance of french fries even if they did open.

We all bid adieu to one another and most of us headed back home--some without power.

As I was driving back, it was darker than when I had left and I could see just how wide the outage area was.  It reached into Tumalo and the dividing line was just a couple of houses before my street.  Back home I came, all was in order.  Bodie was happy to go back outside.  Pinkie was happy to have me by her side.  And momma was happy to reapply the heating pad and know all was well.

Happy Sweet 16, Pooker!

It's hard to believe...Pooker is 16 today. She is a healthy, happy, assertive and very pretty cockatiel.

It was 1994 and I was in Seattle over the winter holidays visiting my friend, Justine. My parakeet of 8 years, Misha, had died that spring. That was quite sad. It was the first time (unfortunately not the last) that I had to make the decision to euthanize an animal. Besides being sad, it was traumatic.

So Justine in her just get it done manner took me to this parrot market "just to look" at birds. I really was in no mood to acquire another bird. Until I met the girl. She was just a month old and the parrot porter was taking her out of a box and putting her in a cage. Younger than this, they do not have the dexterity and strength to hold themselves up on a perch.

He put her on my hand and she immediately scurried up my arm and onto my shoulder and as many birds will, she nestled deep into the nape of my neck. It was darling. There I stayed with her for some time.

The next day, we went back: "just to look." We opened the cage and she did the same thing. Trouble. I really wanted to take this bird home but I was living in the dorm at Mt. Holyoke at the time, sharing a suite with Jill. Oh, and there was a no pets rule (Misha excluded.)

I called Jill from Justine's land line--my cell phone only worked in my car-- "what do you think?" Jill was easy going and a mom of 4 and was quite open to a new addition to our sunny 2 bedroom suite overlooking the apple orchard. Then there was the flight back to Boston to consider. Mind you, it was 1994, pre-TSA.

We took her, well first let me say this, the parrot porter said he was almost certain Pooker was a he. Anyway, we bought the necessary accessories for my new cockatiel and took her back to Justine's house. I had fantasized about another bird and had a few names already picked out. We tried calling her Colvin. Nah. Miles. Nope. And she cried and cried. What had I done?! A baby bird who eats formula from a syringe! To comfort her I made cooing sounds and out came Pooker.

Oh, the story of getting her back to Boston. I had to ask the flight attendant for hot water so I could make her formula during our layover. Then I had to defend my new bird when another flight attendant into Boston insisted that I put her cage under the seat in front of me in freezing winter weather. I most certainly did not. No air marshals or vigilante passengers to worry about.

Pooker became a love to all, or most, who lived at Dickinson Hall. Anne-Sophie would come get her and bring her to her room while she studied. For the most part, we all denied any knowledge of a bird living amongst us.

She stayed with friends and family while I went on a 6 week cross country trip with Alina. The next year Pooker moved with me back to Boston. She stayed with my folks while I lived in Argentina and still when I returned to the US and traveled for work for 2 more years. Then my folks brought her out to me in Long Beach. Now here in Bend she is back to her Pacific Northwest roots.

Yes, Pooker is a she. Sometimes it still catches those who knew her back then off guard; they want to say "he." But when I uncovered her one morning and found an egg and then found another 8 over the course of 2 weeks, we were pretty sure she was a girl.

She has given us many stories and laughs. She is an affectionate creature who loves to be kissed and cuddled. A cockatiel can fit in the palm of your hand, and there she will sit perfectly comfortable and unafraid.

To all of you who have cared for her or played with her or just know her through stories, she joyously celebrated her 16th year full of all of our love and kindness.

Happy Birthday girl!

Wild Animal Kingdom

I know I've said before that ranch life can be harsh, but the sweet birds at my feeder?!

We moved the bird feeder to the front of the house as the side patio is being worked on. It's pleasing to look out at the birds feeding while I myself am feeding at the dining table.

No sooner did I tell Larry the story that a Stellar Jay had come in and spooked off the smaller birds so I spooked off the Jay and the little ones quickly returned, than a falcon swooped in fast and furious, chased a small bird off and out over the pasture, caught it, and took it down to the ground and we must assume ate it based on the rough and tumble we saw going on!

Harsh!

We sat with our jaws dropped. It happened right in front of our eyes. We had to assume it was a falcon. What other bird the size of a large dove would eat a live bird?

A few minutes later, it came back, swooping through, and perched itself in the branches of one of the Junipers beside the house. I took the binoculars to be sure, and yes, it was a falcon. I went out and shooed it away, making threatening noises and clapping. It flew out over the pasture again and landed in a tree to the west. Eventually it moved on.

But really? Pretty little birds at the feeder being picked off by a falcon?

And I thought my biggest concern was the monster hawk scouting out the chickens and ducks.

Well, it is a wild animal kingdom, after all. But maybe we relocate the feeder.

Talking with the Animals

Why this secret of the joy of animals was not apparent to me until just recently, I'll never know. I'm just glad I finally figured it out!

In the course of a day, twice a day at least, I check in on and feed: 6 chickens, 2 dogs, 11 horses, 1 cockatiel and countless wild birds Eventually Larry and I eat.

It's obvious that animals bond to the person with food. And then there is the bonding that goes beyond the feed dish. There is acknowledgement, communication, friendship, companionship, love, sharing, giving and receiving. Mighty enjoyable.

So, Pippin is in the barn with laminitis. For those of you who do not know, this is a painful condition in horses' feet and if treated at the get-go and treated aggressively, the horse can recover. If not treated properly, the condition worsens and can lame a horse to the point of needing to euthanize. A word we do not care for in these parts.

I heard he had a tough day yesterday while I was gone. He was being shod and he flipped himself over backward in cross-ties (ties that connect to a post in the barn and to the sides of his halter.) It could have been the pain of having nails pounded into his feet. Normally, this is painless, but with the inflammation and pain of laminitis, we can only imagine it is not comfortable.

A double-edged sword. The shoes are critical to helping his feet heal.

So, when I got back, I stopped in to the barn to check on him. His face is all scratched up from the flip, his hind is scratched, his side too. He came to the stall door to greet me and show me his wounds.

I said, "Pippin, are you feeling better? Tell me what hurts."

Pippin backed up to the back of the stall, looked at me with focused eyes and in an alternating fashion, he lifted first his left leg, then his right, then his left again and again his right. He walked back up to me and we just cuddled.

He knows I'm there to care for him and help him. I added 3 more bags of pine shavings to give even more cushion to his stall floor.

Today, I was in the dry lot with my boys, Tripper and Alibi, scooping up their poop. They were walking around as they do, following me, nudging me hello, walking off.

Tripper came up to me, smelled the poop bucket I was filling and walked to the side of it. I looked at him and said, "Are you going to poop right there?" He pooped, right there. After he finished, I thanked him for making it so easy for me to pick up and he walked back from where he came.

Oh, the stories are adding up. The greatest thing is to believe and recognize how animals communicate with us. They are not just receiving whatever we send their way. And if you pay attention and listen with your eyes, heart, energy field, ears, hands, smell, even tasting the dust off their face when you kiss them, you will hear them.

It's not always easy to clear everything else out of their incoming communication path, but when you can, the message is loud and clear.

Who Was Expecting That?!

Well, here it is October 4 and what a surprise we had this morning!

No one seemed prepared.

The horses and dogs have not grown in their winter coats, this is the first snow for the chickens and they have no idea what's going on, the quail are soaked and hiding under the eaves, the vegetables are hanging in there under the plastic tarps, the song birds went quiet while the snow fell, the trees still have so many leaves they are snapping off and falling where gravity takes them, the grass is bright green under the junipers where no snow has touched down, and I, I dug out my rubber boots, cap and rain jacket to head out to greet the morning.

It is a wet snow, not exactly one for snow angels.

The nice thing about Central Oregon is that it snows, it's a pleasing sight, and then it goes away. Especially if the temps return to the mid-60s as is predicted.

So, if having the irrigation canals turned dry for the season on Friday wasn't enough to convince us of a season change, I think this one did it!

It's a Dog Eat Bird World

Oh, so much transpires in a day, it's hard to keep count and note the most notable. But this morning's event is blog worthy.

Something has been chewing on the lettuce and beets in our garden. We've been cursing the raccoon family we've seen around at 4am and a bunny we have never seen. Our scarecrow holding a rifle doesn't seem to be doing the trick.

This morning as I walked to the garden to water, I shooed away a menacing Magpie. We have a troupe of them--up to 15 or so. While they are very pretty, they are big, dominant and scare away all of our smaller bird friends. I digress...so, in defiance, he just jumped from the garden to perch on the barrel of the scarecrow's rifle. I gave him another shoo and he went up into the tree. Felon, one of our resident bird dogs, was accompanying me as usual for my morning tasks.

I didn't see the Magpie land down on the grass behind the Poplar tree, but Felon did. As I turned around, I caught Felon catching the Magpie--the bird never saw it coming and didn't have a chance.

While we do our best to discourage the dogs from bothering the birds around our parts, I must admit there was a hint of pride in my reaction. Good dog! What a catch! Just 14 more to shoo from my beets!

Felon paraded around the entire 20 acres with her catch, showing Larry and me her accomplishment for the day and taunting Jess, her co-hunter, with her possession.

But an interesting thing happened. The other Magpies mourned their loss. The entire flock swarmed down around her, cawing like I've never heard them before, landing, flying, crying, swooping. Felon was a little stunned by the sudden intrusion, then curious, and then took on the challenge. She darted around trying to snag herself another trophy. And what a good effort she made. The Magpies have retreated, for now.

Here it is well over an hour later and she is guarding her prize. She is spread out in the sun on the grass napping beside her kill. The victorious captor rests.

Life on the ranch can be harsh in some ways. It is just that---a dog eat bird world.