power animal
Love Is Everything
Hello friends of my mommy, Mountain Sage. My name is Babe. I’m her one and only favorite pup and she thinks I am a ‘cutie-patootie.’ Well, I don’t know about that, but I’m sure glad she thinks so. I try to be. I really do. But there are so many instructions: “sit, down, stay, no-jump, hold hands, leave it.” Phew! What’s a cute four-legged fur baby like me to do?
Well, there are treats sometimes, and that helps, but The Sage is not always so generous. Sometimes, she seems to think I should do all those silly things for free. It’s okay, I guess. Anyway, if I want to get those cuddles and kisses, as well as go to Bow-Wow Camp (which are two of my very favorite things), then I simply have to do it all her way.
But, when I’m outside hunting, then I do it my way. The Sage is most definitely not a hunter, I can assure you! Nope, not even one little bit. So, I have to bring home the bacon, right? A nice little mouse, for example. I brought it in the doggie door, as a gift, while she was on a phone call with a client.
I assume it was a client because that’s when I have to be ‘all quiet.’ Anyway, she made all these mad gestures. She clearly could not contain her excitement about the juicy mouse. Strange, I tell ya! Making all those weird motions. I mean, really, it was just a plain ole’ mouse. Nothing special in my world, but she acted like I’ve brought a month’s supply of meat into the living room?
Then, there was the frog. It showed up on the porch after a heavy rainstorm. I had never seen anything hop quite like it did. It was intriguing – all shiny, plump and green. I decided to lick it on the back. I was just curious. No need for The Sage to become all hysterical, right?
But I have to be honest: that frog was the most vile and disgusting taste I’ve ever experienced. I had to spit, and spit, and spit to try and get that yucky goo out of my mouth. “It’s poison,” The Sage was complaining, as she picked it up and put it outside the fenced garden. Well, I guess she might have been right. Anyway, I was a satisfied dog and more than glad to see it go.
Spirit Messages Of The Red Cardinal
If you live in North America, you’re probably familiar with the northern cardinal bird, also known as the redbird or red cardinal, commonly found across the continent. These bright red songbirds traditionally feature in the folklore, legends, and spiritual beliefs of various cultures.
The blood red coloring of this little bird’s plumage fascinated our ancestors and it is considered to be symbolic of life and vitality. Interestingly, in the Christian tradition the blood of Christ is a central religious symbol and the red-robed senior clergy of the Catholic Church are also knows as Cardinals.
In indigenous cultures, the cardinal traditionally also represents ongoing life, as well as a strong, lasting relationship because cardinals are a monogamous bird species. The appearance of a red cardinal in your life may indicate a need to start something new or examine existing loyalties and obligations.
Their red feathers certainly stand out amid the more common brown and green found in most of nature. The female cardinal is a lighter shade of pink than the bright red male, which is less easy to see. When you do notice her on your path, she is reminding you to look closer – chances are positive developments are on the horizon.
In native lore they are also associated with the direction of true North, symbolizing the guiding, unchanging Spirit. Folk tradition tells us that to see a cardinal means a departed loved one’s spirit is near, or an angelic guide is trying to send an important message.
Cardinals are also associated with the number 12, representing the annual cycle of months, as red cardinals are a year-round species. In addition, red is the color of the root (first) chakra in Eastern wisdom tradition, and also the Astrological sign of Aries, first in the Zodiac.
My Little Guardian Angel
In a recent blog post, I told the story of the rescue dog I found at the vet, and how he became my emotional support animal. He He was my wise little totem, my spirit animal. But Cody’s heart health gradually began to deteriorate. With this in mind, I talked to my husband about getting another Chihuahua, so Cody could teach it to take his place someday.
So, I went online to find our new dog. There were many pages of puppies for sale, as well as rescue dogs. Then I saw Rocky – a small, anxious-looking dog. I contacted the breeder and she said he was the last one from the litter, because he was a little “different.” Well, that is all I needed to hear!
So, we loaded up the car with both Cody and Luke, my German Shepard, and went to meet the new pack member. Mr. Cody Simpson had to come along, since he was a pack leader. He always had the final say about who could join our tribe.
Cody took a sniff at Rocky and instantly started to play with him. Luke immediately followed his lead and joined in the fun and excitement. Animals are much more in tune with each other’s energy signature than humans. If more of us were intuitively in touch with the ‘vibes’ of others, there might be more love, tolerance and compassion in the world.
Now, you may be thinking an 80-pound German Shepard could be dangerous around a tiny Chihuahua, but you don’t know my dog. Luke is convinced he is a Chihuahua. To play with the small dogs, he simply lays down and allows them to play with him.
Rocky was, however, so small for his age, that I was somewhat concerned, so I took him to the vet. The doctor confirmed that he was slow in development and needed special care to grow and become a healthy dog.
A Miracle Horse Named Jake
My passion for animals is far-reaching and horses are a definite favorite. They are amazing creatures that have been roaming the planet since the beginning of time. They started out humbly, but worked their way up the evolutionary ladder.
There is one particular horse that I will never forget. He entered my world about 6 months after my beloved American Quarter Horse, Luke, had passed away at the age of 22. I yearned for a new four-legged friend and found Jake for sale on a nearby farm.
I wanted a horse that would be good on trails, like Luke used to be. As I looked at the herd, one horse stood out instantly, staring at me with eyes that touched my soul. Jake wasn’t the prettiest horse there; he had lots of nicks and bite scars on his body. He was a white horse with a black mane and tail, with black varnish markings on his legs and face.
The owner told me that Jake was unfortunately not the most willing horse on trails, but I still had my sights set on him. He also mentioned that a thorn from a tree had broken off in the horse’s eye, several months back, but it seemed to be fine now.
As the man brought him out, I noticed he was heavy-handed with him and used force when not needed. The horse looked at me intently. I could clearly sense his sadness. He was not happy there.
The owner then saddled him up for me to ride, and he cut a branch from a nearby tree to use as a switch. “You’ll need this on the trails,” he said. I politely took the makeshift riding crop (with no intention of using it) and headed off to the wooded trails nearby.
Jake was quiet and we were feeling each other out. It was soon evident that he was a caring horse that aimed to please. I enjoyed the ride, and tossed that stick on the first turn. That was the day I started the love affair with my new Colorado Ranger horse. Only 5,000 of Colorado Ranger breed were registered at the time. The man could not recall how old Jake was, but when I got his papers I found he was 22 years old.
The Little Angel Who Rescued Me
In 2017, I visited the vet with Max, my German Shepherd, for dental work. Max was a rescue from Germany surrendered by his previous owner because he was considered a “too active” puppy.
While we were waiting at the clinic, he suddenly started pulling his leash into the operating room and began barking at me to move faster. I was caught totally off guard. He had never behaved like this before.
At the time he had been with me for over 10 years and had the typical issues coming from being an elderly dog. But he was the most people and dog-friendly dog you could imagine. He was never unruly or aggressive and he seldom barked.
I followed him and soon found the reason for his excitement. A small Chihuahua was tied to the examining table and looking at us. I then realized that Max had sensed the little dog was scared. He started to comfort him by lying beside him and gently playing with him.
When the vet entered the room, she was astonished to see the two dogs comforting each other with face licking and wagging tails. She then revealed that Cody the Chihuahua had been surrendered to the shelter she did volunteer work for. Mr. Cody had not found a forever home yet, because had been labelled “aggressive towards other dogs.”
Also, he was a hospice adoption because he was in an awfully bad shape. He suffered from serious heart failure and had never had dental work done before. The previous owner had him for 9 years and did nothing to ease his pain and suffering. No wonder he was acting aggressive – who wouldn’t be with 13 rotting teeth in their muzzle!
At the time, I had recently immigrated to Canada and I had to start over from scratch. I arrived here with only suitcases and my dog. I was definitely not planning on adopting another dog. But that was not what destiny had in mind for me.
The Spiritual Life Lessons Of The Spider
I recently saw with my own eyes a burly, grown man run screaming from his garage because he saw a spider! I could not help but wonder what he thought might happen to him? Was the tiny spider going to pounce on him and consume him entirely?
Of course, in some places in the world there are indeed deadly little creatures that could cause irreparable harm, or even death. However, in the area where we live there is really not much chance of this ever happening. Instead of running away screaming, the arachnophobic lumberjack should have appreciated instead the spiritual wisdom and life lessons his petite visitor embodies.
When we look closely at the life of a spider, we must recognize and respect its truth. It operates in a world that is dictated only by nature and honest survival. It makes its living by adhering to the laws of nature.
The spider creates creates a home for itself where it can be safe and comfortable by applying formidable patience and diligence. It takes infinite care in this process with extreme precision.
The spider does not have a strict deadline as to when it’s home must be complete. The web is carefully spun after a perfect spot is chosen that will be most advantageous. This miraculous, fragile home must be able to withstand rain, sleet, snow, extreme winds and any other element that nature sees fit to throw it’s way.
Once this arduous and time-consuming task is completed, the next phase is just as critical. The spider will then take on the task that all creatures, man and beast, must comply with and that is securing a source of nourishment.
The Girl Who Healed Animals At The Pet Cemetery
I grew up in Germany. My dad, coming from an extremely poor background, worked his hands to the bones to provide a roof over our heads and food on the table. Mom and dad married when she was only 19 and we lived in a house built beside my grandfather’s on a small farm.
My maternal grandfather was a pharmacist and had bought the land on the hill, where he built his house after he came back from the war. He had been imprisoned in France. Times were hard, but the land my grandfather was able to purchase the land at a low price. It was the last lot on the hill, before the heavily forested area, and it was an old pet cemetery, which was unknown at the time.
Around the time I went to high school, I started finding injured animals. Or maybe they found me? The first was a black bird with a broken wing. I brought her home and named her Raven. I learned how to feed her, and how to stabilize the wing so it could heal.
The next animal was a mouse. She had a bloody foot and was almost frozen to the ground. She was barely alive and seemed relieved as I picked her up and carried her home. I put her in a terrarium I had inherited from my brother, after he had used it for his ‘frog project’ in school. His 143 tadpoles turned into frogs all over the backyard, and mom was livid! Thanks for my Dad, they all moved to a pond.
My next surprise guest was a black cat. I came home from soccer practice and there he was, sitting on my desk in my room. It was a problem, because mom did not want any pets in the house! Period. I could hide the small animals, but what to do with a big, black cat?
I begged my parents to let me keep Fritzi. He was like a dog. He followed me wherever I went. My family voted for Fritzi to stay, on mom’s condition that he sleep on the porch. But, of course, Fritzi the black cat slept on my pillow instead. Sadly he was killed after a few months, when I called him for lunch and a car ran him over. I was devastated. Heartbroken.