A Fire Sign

The sign posts all around me have been pointing to infinite potential, endless possibilities, getting acquainted with the heart mind.

Having come through the other side of a major life transition, my eyes are open and my ears are perked.  Where does my path want to lead me?  What does that next stone under my well-danced feet feel like? I am wildly curious and tickled pink.

Lately, I have taken note of just how much I gaze up into the sky.  It is fascinating.  It is inspiring.  It is magical and mystical.  I used to dream of rainbows and shooting stars.  My dreams have come true.

The Full Cold Moon energy of this month has my body tingling.  I wake up in the wee hours and go look outside.  With the snow and the moonlight, everything is glowing, the hour uncertain.  Last night the sky cleared.  This morning at sunrise, I walked to the west door and greeted the day with a sleepy grin.

Invigorated by the crisp winter air, I spent a good part of the day outdoors.  Alibi and I took a walk to the mailbox at the end of the road to pick up a package I have been expecting.  It was just us on the road.  My boots crunching in the cold snow and his hooves steadily keeping pace.  Our hearts are in rhythm.

When I finally came in, the moon was just rising in the east.  I completely relish being able to see both the east and the west from my windows.    As the December moon rose up over the pasture in front, I put my tarot cards and their pretty purple brocade box on the sill to be cleansed by the full moon energy.

The poodles and I needed to get to the feed store before it closed.  I am breaking down and buying a heater for the water trough.  Although I revel in the increasing daylight hours, I cannot be fooled by the calendar.  It tells me I may be breaking ice in the water for quite some time to come.

Before taking another step toward departing, I knew I had to look to the west.  The Cascades always perform.  The three Sisters were crystal clear, snow covered and basking in the setting sun.

As we were driving home from Big R, I stole a glance up toward the clear winter night sky and there it was!  A shooting star.  It was as if it came from behind my reliable winter transport, over my head, hooked on to my front grill and coaxed us forward chasing its fiery tail.  It said, "this way."

Look.  Look up.  Look forward.  Look inward.  There lies your path.

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.

Felon is Gone

Yesterday we opened the earth in our front pasture, at the base of a Juniper tree, and we put Felon to rest. Several horses came over to see what was going on. We took time to give thanks for having Felon in our life, recalled how she came to us and how much she changed since being with us. We recalled some of our favorite stories of our time with her and some of her daily patterns that were so entertaining. We found joy in that just last weekend she was out burying a bone with plans of retrieving it later. Such optimism!

Felon became ill a few weeks ago. Or rather, her illness started to show then. Her health declined rapidly and I tried anything to stop it from progressing. I discovered she sure did love cheesecake!

It became obvious on Wednesday that her time with me was coming to an end. I had been praying to the universe to either give her strength to recover or to allow her to pass on peacefully at home without the assistance of a vet. You have no idea how much I asked for this.

In the evening, she was beside me on the sofa and I unlocked my heart to let her go. She felt my message and later responded as she was waiting to do.

In the midst of handling her death, I went to the computer and sent an email to a few friends and family. Here it is.

It's 4:05am and Felon has gone to the peaceful world of dog heaven.

She came to my room at 1:30am and she just stood at the door. Her walk down the hall was all she could muster. I carried her to the patio door to go out but she didn't make any motion to go, she just lay down.

She was so gracious in letting me know she was ready.

The sweetest moment was when Bodie came over and lay down beside her, licked her face and rested his head on her head and stayed still. There they were, side by side, beside me, all of us with full understanding. That was a gift. It was so precious.

I brought her bed into the living room beside the sofa and I stroked her until we both fell asleep.

Something woke me up at 3:36am and I saw she had changed position and I could tell she was gone. She was still warm and soft, so it had only been a short time.

It is a peaceful hour. She spared me the responsibility of having to make the decision I knew would be necessary today. Bodie is respectful in leaving her be. He came to her when I moved her onto another blanket, he gave her a kiss, and he is by the door thinking about whatever it is sweet young loving dogs think about.

I thank the universe for taking her in this way. She crossed over as a very happy, loved, ready dog, friend, companion, protector and teacher. She did the job of my dog, my first dog, to the highest standard; she excelled.

We all miss her assertive and gentle presence on the ranch.

Thank you to all of you who have loved her.

With a calm sadness in my heart,