Bob Derham and his wife, Julie, are long-term friends back in the UK.
They recently lost their two dogs.
Bob sent me this:
Millie and Summer both had a fun life.
They were cross breed dogs, partly Springer Spaniel and part Collie. They were born in Wales, but as there are quite a lot of similar dogs there, the owner advertised in a local paper, and brought them up to Dorset one weekend 13 years ago.
Initially we had been looking for only one dog, but it seemed such a shame to separate the two puppies so we decided to take both. Most people were of the opinion that two girls from the same litter was not a good idea, but nevertheless we trained them, and the two animals were always together.
Family holidays, walking the children to the school bus, visiting friends, etc., always included Millie and Summer.
Just over two years ago, Summer became diabetic. Had this been only ten years ago, nothing could have been done for her, but we were able to inject her twice a day, and keep her healthy, apart from failing sight as a result of the insulin. It was not long after that Millie developed the same problem, so both dogs had the same routine.
Summer went to the vets on the right day for her, and was put to sleep peacefully, and two weeks later Millie needed the same choice to be made.
They enjoyed an almost identical lifespan, and we enjoyed them to the full.
Bob and Julie’s daughter Stephanie then made the following video in memory of their two beloved dogs.
Back to me.
Going to close today’s post with this poem by Rudyard Kipling.
ooOOoo
The Power of the Dog
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
…
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie–
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
…
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find–it’s your own affair–
But…you’ve given your heart for a dog to tear.
…
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone–wherever it goes–for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart for the dog to tear.
…
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long–
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
I have a marvellous blogging friend in New Mexico who has Rufina, a chicken who was shot in the head, sealed in a plastic bag, placed in a freezer for 24hrs, and lived! (albeit now blind).
I have a framed poster of Rufina up in my living room, and even one her feathers perched in one of my many, many, many St. Francis’s
Then in response to me wanting to republish that story replied: “Contact her, she’s wonderful, and her pottery is to die for.”
So I did and, with Laura’s permission here is that story of this most remarkable chicken.
ooOOoo
The Undead Chicken
by Laura Bruzzese, June 24th, 2013
This is Rufina. She’s new to our household.
She’s quiet and doesn’t take up much space, mostly sits on her perch or in her ceramic nest all day. She moves around slowly. If you are really gentle, she lets you pick her up.
We sit by the pond together in the morning, before everyone else gets up.
Last Thursday, I answered a friend’s call on Facebook for someone to take this chicken. Isabella and I drove to my friend’s house in the South Valley, put her in a bin, and brought her home. I didn’t think she’d actually still be alive today.
My friend had posted this story Thursday morning:
The neighbor gave us fresh chickens last night for cooking up. He shot them in the head with gun and handed them over the fence. We bagged them and put in freezer for today. Evan gets home, opens freezer and one bird is perched fully alive, very cold, and pissed off.
Chase ensues… !! We now have a blind undead chicken in our yard.
Anybody want it?
I’m not sure why anyone would shoot chickens in the head.
But when I read the story, I couldn’t help but admire this chicken’s tenacity. She is courageous. She made her way out of a plastic bag inside a freezer and survived for thirty-six hours. After being shot in the head. I figured any animal that fought that hard to live deserved a little help, if only for a day or two.
The chicken hasn’t made any effort to eat like a normal chicken. Because, of course, she can’t see where to peck. (There isn’t much point in force-feeding a blind chicken.) But she does drink, so I’ve started blending up borrowed chicken food and water and giving her that. She seems content, grooming herself sometimes, showing no signs of pain or anxiety. And still, she will die.
But until then, we will enjoy each of her borrowed mornings by the pond, the sound of birds and running water, the sun on her feathers, expecting nothing.
I’m not sure why I have a blind, undead chicken in my studio. But here is one of my favorite poems, by Laura Gilpin.
The Two-Headed Calf
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
Now if you think that was remarkable then let me share what Laura posted a few weeks later, linked to via her Epilogue above.
ooOOoo
The Miracle of Re-Birth
by Laura Bruzzese, July 11th, 2013
Good news: it’s been three weeks since the attempted murder of Rufina, and she continues to dwell among the living!
After loads of eye care, foot washing, antibiotics, food and vitamins, she has gained weight and is learning to find food and water by herself. Her remaining eye looks normal again but is still blind (I was hoping for a miracle), and the place of its former pair seems to have reached its majority in terms of healing–no eye, but no skin, either. Just a weird, green spot surrounded by red skin that looks not unlike a tiny sun-dried tomato.
But that does not prevent her daily forays into the garden where she walks around with her head craned forward to “feel” where she’s going, and from exhibiting other persisting chicken qualities that seem to evidence a contented life.
I’m still surprised, and slightly in awe of this traumatized chicken who is satisfied to reside indefinitely on my studio porch. Shiny, happy chicken.
And so far, Velma the Rascally Whippet has not been the nuisance I was afraid she might be, but instead, a proud example of a bird-dog in defiance of her own natural instincts (save for one minor incident involving a tail feather. That was still attached to Rufina.). Perhaps Velma knows they are kindred spirits, she herself having survived a scary encounter with the Great Beyond earlier this year.
Thanks to everyone who has contributed free chicken advice, food, ER and vet consults, and even a couple of adorable, surprise chicks* (!) to keep Rufina company.
*Chicks will unfortunately be dispatched to some other venue because they are exploiting their sighted advantage: stealing food out of Rufina’s mouth, crowding the water dish, and mocking her by constantly blinking and sticking their tongues out. Also, they are filthy little creatures that walk in their own poop and then jump on me.
And finally, what’s in a name? When it became clear that chicken might live, I thought I should name her, and Rufina was the first thing that popped into my head. A few days later, I googled it to see what came up. This is what I found on Wiki:
Saints Justa and Rufina (Ruffina) (Spanish: Santa Justa y Santa Rufina) are venerated as martyrs. They are said to have been martyred at Hispalis (Seville) during the 3rd century.
Their legend states that they were sisters and natives of Seville who made fine earthenware pottery for a living, with which they supported themselves and many of the city’s poor. Justa was born in 268 AD, Rufina in 270 AD, of a poor but pious Christian family. During a pagan festival, they refused to sell their wares for use in these celebrations. In anger, locals broke all of their dishes and pots. Justina and Rufina retaliated by smashing an image of Venus.
The city’s prefect, Diogenianus, ordered them to be imprisoned. Failing to convince them to renounce their faith, he had them tortured on the rack and with iron hooks. This method also having failed, they were imprisoned, where they suffered from hunger and thirst.
They were then asked to walk barefoot to the Sierra Morena; when this did not break their resolve, they were imprisoned without water or food. Justa died first. Her body, thrown into a well, was later recovered by the bishop Sabinus. Diogenianus believed that the death of Justa would break the resolve of Rufina. However, Rufina refused to renounce her faith and was thus thrown to the lions. The lion in the amphitheatre, however, refused to attack Rufina, remaining as docile as a house cat. Infuriated, Diogenianus had Rufina strangled or beheaded and her body burned. Her body was also recovered by Sabinus and buried alongside her sister in 287 AD.
Saint Rufina, by Velázquez. See the likeness?? She’s even carrying a giant feather!
Just another name? Perhaps. Or: a dark-haired Spaniard and a Italian-New Mexican, two Christian potters separated by centuries, a saint, a chicken, and an ordinary human united in an extraordinary coincidence of the undead.
ooOOoo
Follow that!
Well I can’t but John Zande can.
For he was the first to leave a comment to Laura’s Rebirth post:
Here, i feel this song is in order. Listen carefully to the words, and who is singing them.
That is the language of love spoken by our beautiful dogs.
The present unreliability of our internet connection prompted me to think about re-posting whatever I had posted exactly a year ago. It only took me a minute to look it up and, bingo, what a perfect topic for these wintry days.
ooOOoo
As our dear dogs speak it.
You will recall that last Friday I featured an item under the title of Private First Class Lingo. The item had been brought to my attention by Constance Frankland.
Well here’s another really special story that Constance came across on a website called Arditor and I wanted to share it with you.
ooOOoo
The Language of Love
8 Ways Your Dog is Saying “I Love You“
Although dogs don’t speak our language, they are constantly trying to tell us that they love us and always showing love through their actions. Unfortunately, many shrug their shoulders or get annoyed over their dogs’ love gestures.
Here are 8 ways your dog is saying “I love you”…
Tail Wagging
Similar to a cat, a dog’s tail is a communication tool. In fact it is sometimes more accurate in translating its emotions than barking. Held at different positions, a dog’s wag could communicate excitement, fear, threat or submission. If your dog’s tail is held in a relaxed position and wagging all together with its entire butt, it means it is very happy to see you.
Face Licking
Warm, sticky, wet and stinky! We know this can get annoying but licking a person’s face is a love gesture from a dog. Dogs lick faces for a few reasons. Mainly, if your pet dog is licking your face, he is trying to groom you! Grooming is an intimate gesture only done after a strong connection is made between dogs (so now you know he sees you as one of his kind). On the other hand, if a stranger dog licks your face, it is simply trying to say that he is harmless and friendly.
Following You Wherever You Go
This is another behaviour that can get on your nerves, especially when your dog attempts to follow you to work! However, it is only a dog’s way to show his love, devotion and loyalty to you. Wherever you are, that is where your dog wants to be. Dogs are extreme social creatures and unlike humans, there is no need for solitude.
Sleeping with You
Similar to wild wolve packs, wild dogs curl up together to sleep in the night. Rather than sleeping alone in his designated corner, your dog prefers to snuggle right next to you in your bed. If you catch your dog sneaking onto your bed or falling asleep next to you in your couch, it implies that you are his family.
Smiling
It is no surprise when you see something like a smile on your dog. Dogs do smile too! Research has found that dogs can also show and use facial expressions similar to how humans do. A dog’s smile is another way of showing his love and joy to his owner. Having said that, most of us are guilty of not recognizing our dog’s smile.
Crotch Sniffing
Argh, this is an embarrassing one and how we wished our dogs can quit going around sniffing crotches. But before you start screaming at your dog, try to understand it. This behaviour is in fact a dog’s perculiar way of greeting. More importantly, apart from a hello, it allows the dog to understand and remember you through your scent.
Taking Care of You When You are Sick
Does your dog stay by your bed and watch you the whole time while you are nursing a flu? This is its natural instinct to care for a sick or wounded family member, just as they would in the wild. A dog extends its love and care to its sick or injured owner by quietly and patiently watching over him/her. But make sure you hide any superficial wounds away from your dog! It might actually lick your wound as its form of first aid.
Leaning on You
Whether you are sitting or standing, your dog is leaning on you and wouldn’t budge. You can’t move and you can’t get on with your daily routine. While you are wondering what they are up to, your dog has already got what they needed: your attention. Getting your attention and giving you their attention by leaning on you is their way of showing affection. Next time this happens, stop what you are doing and reciprocate with some love.
oooooooo
This turned out to be more of a Sunday Picture Parade but it seemed too special to hold it from you until the weekend.
No, our dogs don’t speak a language that we humans would recognise as such but, nonetheless, our dogs communicate in ways that still are as magical and special as our human poetry.
Speaking of poetry, let me close today’s post with this.
ooOOoo
Wherever you are in the world, with or without a dog in your life, please embrace the power of love.
Giving from the heart; in this case a dog’s heart.
As many readers know we have nine dogs here at home, divided into the ‘kitchen’ group (Paloma, Casey and Ruby) and the ‘bedroom’ group (Pharaoh, Brandy, Cleo, Sweeny, Pedy and Oliver). Inevitably the latter group are closer to us because they share the bulk of the home with Jeannie and me, and sleep in our bedroom. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that the kitchen group are any less affectionate than the bedroom group it’s just that, for me especially, I am able to be emotionally and physically closer to our bedroom group because for most of the hours of each day they are close to me.
Brandy, Cleo and Oliver seem to be incredibly sensitive to Jeannie’s and my feelings. If something makes me cry then one of them will be next to me in seconds. When Jeannie and I hug, Oliver will stand on his rear legs, place his front legs on our bodies above our waists and act as if he is hugging us. Even the mention of the word “out” has Cleo running to the front door.
So many more examples but you get the drift!
Last Friday The Washington Post published a heart-breaking story. It concerned a young man, just 33-years-old, who was dying from a brain hemorrhage. Here’s an extract from that story:
Ryan Thomas Jessen had gone to the hospital for what he thought was a migraine, but it turned out to be a brain hemorrhage, his sister, Michelle Jessen, wrote on Facebook earlier this month.
The hemorrhage, which doctors believe may have been brought on by high blood pressure, would prove fatal.
But before Jessen died, the 33-year-old Californian’s family wanted to let his dog, Mollie, see him one last time.
Michelle Jessen filmed that last visit by Mollie and, as one might expect, the video has been shared right across the world.
So very often words come so difficult when one wants to reflect on what we have just watched.
A million stars up in the sky
one shines brighter I can’t deny
A love so precious a love so true
a love that comes from me to you
The angels sing when you are near
within your arms I have nothing to fear
You always know just what to say
just talking to you makes my day
I love you honey with all of my heart
together forever and never to part.
There was an exchange of thoughts between me and Susan Leighton, who is the author of the blog Woman On the Ledge:
(In part:)
Susan: Dogs can be such a comfort when life becomes overwhelming.
Me: For nobody can escape those moments when life becomes overwhelming. A loving partner is precious beyond words at those times, but there’s still something comforting beyond that love when it comes to our dogs.
Susan: Very true, Paul. A dog has saved me many times!
Later on yesterday, when I was looking for something for today’s post, I came across this video:
Published on Jan 5, 2015
Hantu the White German Shepherd Plays Surrogate Mum to Poncho the Opossum at the Rare Species Fund, South Carolina, USA.
Poncho the opossum was found clinging to his mother’s back after she had been hit by an oncoming vehicle, a common hazard for nocturnal animals. Under veterinary supervision, Poncho was brought to the Rare Species Fund in South Carolina where he has nursed to health. Opossums are the only New World marsupials and, in the wild, spend the first several months of their lives clinging to their mother’s backs. Having had no puppies of her own, Hantu seems a more than willing foster mum and mode of transportation for Poncho. Robert Johnson of the Rare Species Fund says, “They are both playing important roles in each other’s lives. When Hantu goes for her daily walks through the woods, she won’t leave the house until Poncho is securely mounted on her back.” http://www.RareSpeciesFund.com http://www.MyrtleBeachSafari.com
Just thought that was a lovely reminder of the unconditional love offered by our dogs; for humans and for other creatures!
Many people have shared this traditional Native American legend filled with wisdom:
There was once a native Elder who came to realize that he had two wolves fighting inside of him. The dark wolf was mean spirited, angry, fearful and selfish. The light wolf was noble, honest, loving and kind. A boy once asked of him “Which wolf usually wins?” He replied, “It depends on which one I feed.”
I shared this story the other day and asked the question “What can we do to stop feeding the dark wolf and nourish the white wolf?”
What came up was surprising. I had always thought of our inner emotions being the key to which wolf we are feeding. When we are angry, jealous or resentful, we feed the dark. When we are loving and grateful, we feed the light.
But it’s not as simple as this.
Like life, its more than black or white.
I believe that the biggest feeder of the dark wolf comes from the environment we live in nowadays. It feeds the dark insecurity within us. It ignites fear and anger. It triggers old wounds and deep insecurities. It fans the waves of violence and retribution. Whether we are surrounded by negative angry people, or are listening to negative politicians, or are watching live footage of violence … this is the food that feeds our dark wolf.
It is mostly unconscious, and perhaps habit … but I’m sure you know it is so.
So now, you can choose.
What can you stop doing that is feeding the dark wolf? For me it was to turn off the t.v. and make a conscious decision about what I listen to and who I choose to be around. I have become aware of which wolf I am feeding, and my life has changed for the better.
Namaste
ooOOoo
I’m going to conclude today’s post by adding a comment that was left by Karen Lanser in response to Val’s post.
Years ago I came across the most lovely little meditation called “Egg of Light Exercise”. I was reminded of it with your question … here it is! I hope it helps! Karen
Egg of Light Exercise
Excerpted from The Power of the Mind to Heal (pp.50-52)
(Joan Borysenko, Ph.D and Miroslav Borysenko, Ph.D)
Begin by taking a good stretch, and then allow your eyes to close … Focus lightly on your breathing, noticing the way that your body rises slightly as you breathe in and relaxes down as you breathe out …
As you settle gently into observing the tide of your incoming and outgoing breath, your concentration can become more and more focused …
Now, in the space about you and slightly in front of you, imagine a great star of loving light …
Allow the light to cascade over you like a waterfall and to run through you …
Imagine the light entering the top of your head and running down through and between every cell, the way that a river washes through the sand on its bottom …
Allow the river of light to carry away any fatigue, illness, or negativity and wash it out through the bottoms of your feet into the earth for transformation …
As the river of light washes through you, imagine that it is scrubbing away any darkness around your heart, allowing the light within you to shine more and more brightly … joining with the river of light … filling you and extending around you for two or three feet in every direction like an enormous, luminous egg …
Make a firm mental declaration that any thoughts of love and encouragement will penetrate the egg and reach your heart, while any negative thoughts will bounce off the egg and return to the sender with a blessing. Declare also that your own loving thoughts will penetrate the egg and reach their destination, while your negative thoughts will bounce off the interior of the egg and return to you with the awareness of loving kindness and encouragement.
*****
Anytime during the day that you feel anxious, assaulted by someone’s energy, or fatigues, try the egg-of-light exercise. After you are used to doing it, you can place yourself in the egg almost instantaneously.
P.S. LOVED your post Val!!
The wisdom, beauty and encouragement that exists in the hearts of so many people (and dogs).
This is the second time I have used Affairs of the Heart as a title to a post. The previous time was January 20th, 2012 (and I’m republishing that post tomorrow). How time flies!
Indeed, in a little over two week’s time, on July 15th, all you dear, dear readers and I will be celebrating me writing this blog for seven years! Indeed, how time flies!
Yesterday, John Zande from down in Brazil, another great friend of this place, posted a comment that included a most powerful video. His comment was, “Not sure if this link will work, but this is a lovely story of an adoption that saved a life.”
John that was one amazing video, still wiping away tears.. Thank you.. Through our choices we CAN make Changes in our lives..
I then followed Sue with this comment, written at 05:45 local time (PDT) yesterday:
John, Jean awoke just a few moments ago and I have just played your video in front of us both. It is so beautiful and important that I want some time to fully compose my response. Plus Jean and I need some time to stop weeping!
Just had this idea to feature your video and my reply as tomorrow’s post.
Thank you, John, for sharing this. Thank you so much.
Even if you watched this video yesterday do watch it again before continuing. Same applies to those that haven’t yet watched it. Do that now! 🙂
So now we head for my emotional response to that video.
Change is inevitable. Another word for change would be time. Time is the most fundamental principle of the Universe. Call it the Arrow of Time. It flows only in one direction. From order to disorder.
Or to put it in the words of physics (my emboldening in 2.2):
en·tro·py
ˈentrəpē/
noun
noun: entropy; plural noun: entropies; symbol: S
1.
Physics
a thermodynamic quantity representing the unavailability of a system’s thermal energy for conversion into mechanical work, often interpreted as the degree of disorder or randomness in the system.
2.
lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder.
It has to be that way. For evolution is a product of the decline of one variant of life (plant, animal, insect, higher order ‘animals’, etc. ) and a new aspect of that life emerging (or not). That’s how it has to be for the beauty of life, the beauty of life in all its forms (even including politicians! 😉 ). Life is a function of a “gradual decline into disorder“.
I’m not a religious person, nor is Jean, and do not believe in any form of afterlife. When I die that’s it.
I was born in 1944. I am ageing. I have suffered some brain atrophy that means that my recall is terrible. I know that the ageing process is going to continue. It scares me. At least it motivates me to keep as physically and mentally fit as I can.
I have tried hard most of my life to stay fit, physically and mentally. I’m only now aware of the reward of such an attitude.
But I haven’t been emotionally fit. In the sense of not truly knowing who I am and what my values are. That darkness was illuminated for me in the Summer of 2007, thanks to Jon.
That very moving video of Eric and Peety speaks of Eric being saved by Peety. I so deeply understand Eric.
For in December, 2007, just a few months after Jon (as in being the best we can be) made me fully aware of my distorted view of myself I travelled out to Mexico and met Jean and all her dogs.
Jean has saved me. Directly from the love, companionship and intimate friendship that she offers me. But Jean has also saved me indirectly. By that I mean from me living my daily life these last nearly ten years surrounded by the most beautiful dogs that one could imagine. Those dogs, each one of them in their own special way, also offering me love, companionship and intimate friendship.
Prior to December, 2007 I didn’t know how to feel my true emotions and, in consequence, didn’t know how to express them. Jean and the dogs have enabled me to feel my true emotions, and to express them. Dozens of things pain me and it’s rare day when I don’t have the odd weep or two. However, dozens of things please me each day and now bring out a laugh, or a giggle. Even better, dozens of times each day I am loved by our dogs and the gift that goes with that love is me feeling so beautifully accepted; accepted in an utterly unconditional manner.
The love given to me from our dogs and the love from my beautiful Jean make it so easy for me to be good to myself. That love, from Jeannie and the dogs, has been a gift to me beyond my imagination.
I have hanging on my office wall a framed print of a poem by Roy Croft. I gave it to Jeannie on the first anniversary of our marriage. I want to share Roy Croft’s words with you. For they so beautifully describe the gift of love I receive from Jean. But in a way that I suspect Mr. Croft didn’t imagine when he first penned his poem, his words also so beautifully describe the gift of love I receive from our dogs.
ooOOoo
“Love” by Roy Croft
I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
oo
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
oo
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
oo
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.
ooOOoo
If you have read my post through to the end, thank you!
The stranger the times the more we need to ‘ground’ ourselves.
Without doubt these are incredibly strange and unsettling times. For the United Kingdom, for the USA, for the British Commonwealth, for Scotland, for Gibraltar; and for many other places.
When we are faced with unsettling periods then it is essential to ‘ground’ ourselves, and there are many effective ways of doing this.
One way that always works for me is to gaze into a clear, night sky. The night sky over one’s head is captivating beyond words. Perhaps I should have written that it is captivating beyond my words.
Not so for Sue Dreamwalker. Just read this most beautiful poem that Sue published a little over two weeks ago. Republished here with Sue’s kind permission.
(And to demonstrate how your’s truly is becoming a forgetful old fart when I read this out to Jeannie last night she reminded me that I had already published it! It’s worthy of another showing!)
It’s Sunday lunchtime and I have come in from outside to check my emails and to put together the post for today. For reasons I can’t exactly put my finger on I’m feeling a little distracted. I sense a yearning for being transported away from the ‘outside world’ and turning inwards: Even giving blogging a rest for a couple of weeks (but I won’t).
So thank goodness for the blogging contacts we make all around the world. Just last Saturday Sue, of Sue Dreamwalker’s blog, published an exquisitely beautiful poem. Sue very promptly gave me permission to republish it in full. Sue’s poem speaks to me just now; speaks to me in this rather introspective place. I hope her wonderful words speak to you as well.
Have you questioned the existence of the Human Race?
~~
Did we really evolve from Neanderthal Man?
From Ape to Human imagine if you can
Woolly Mammoths along with Sabre Tooth Tigers
Ice Ages and Floods, Volcanoes and Fires
~~
Mountains crashing, rising from ocean floors
Fossils created into stony forms
Petrified wood in glaciers saved
While Crystals grow beneath deep dark cave
~~
How many times have you asked ‘Who am I?’
As you gaze longingly at the starlit sky
So many treasures now upon this Blue Dot
So sad that we’ve evolved, but we also forgot
~~
That we Humans just like the Dinosaur race
Could soon disappear without a trace
As our superior brains seemed to have lost the plot
Of our coexistence within this amazing Blue Dot
~~
As we pollute our Mother who brings such life
While we rage in greed creating more strife
We poison our land modifying crops
Caring less and less until the last Bee drops
~~
Long after we’re gone as the planets realign
A new dawn will break over the memory of mankind
His legacy I’m sure one day will be discovered
As some future traveller his fossils will uncover.
~~
But it’s never too late to alter our future
When we live in harmony and learn to nurture
Holding onto LOVE and Letting go of Hate
We can all help our Blue Planet Regenerate.
Copyright Sue Dreamwalker 2016.
This is just one of the beautiful slides from Sue’s slide show. As she writes, “The above slide show are the photo’s I took that inspired the poem above. They were taken in Scotland where I visited a crystal and mineral centre near Fort William. It was a delightful find holding a wealth of Treasures of The Earth which can be found here. “
Learning from Dogs 
John, Jean awoke just a few moments ago and I have just played your video in front of us both. It is so beautiful and important that I want some time to fully compose my response. Plus Jean and I need some time to stop weeping!
Just had this idea to feature your video and my reply as tomorrow’s post.
Thank you, John, for sharing this. Thank you so much.