It's been a fortnight since I stopped watching this news.
And one week since Mukunda had his surgery.
And Now, we are hanging out by the river. Suddenly, the periods are warmer, the pale green hue of springtime is deepening with every moment.
My friends ask me: What was it prefer to watch your dearest companion be sliced into and stitched backup for a total of three hours?
Frank, our Vet and friend kept asking: How are you supporting, Kate?
And I thought, How am I really holding up? Could I faint? I hadn't eaten. How embarrassing it will be to faint after Frank so graciously allowed me in to the operating room.
So I dropped the idea of fainting and got in to the experience, chatting with Frank about mutual friends, and discussed the periods when I was nursery school teacher to Frank's daughter, now also a Veterinarian. Muki's heart monitor reassurred me of his continuing physical life. Otherwise he did look just as if he died, reminding me of times I saw 8 of my dogs as soon as they were shot to death by way of a neighbor who hated "Hippys," and who later was believed to embezzle 8 million dollars from the Republican Party in Lancaster County.
Or hence the story goes.
At enough time, the sight of my lifeless companions, carried out in by a lot violence, prompted me to attend 28 years before before I could bring myself to have another dog: Thus Mukunda, then Ulysses four years later, the highest friends I have ever had.
The days since the surgery happen to be quiet. The moments spent stroking my dogs, watching sunbeams bounce prism rainbows off Mukunda's paws and Ulysses eyelashes, playing birdsong, watching the ever quickening pale greenery, marveling at the Daffodil and harvesting newly sprouted Nettle to sprinkle on the food I prepare every night for these dogs, may be an education in Being, In-Joyment, in Pure Peace, and and a touch of Spring Fever, which I never want to end.
These dogs are representatives of the spiritual realm, messengers and teachers, to instruct what it truly methods to live in the present moment.
The dogs are not concerned about tomorrow, nor would they obsess regarding the past. They love harmony and quiet and love.
In fact, they thrive on it.
My dogs abhor fights between humans. I call these creatures my harmony barometers. When I get tense and anxious, my dogs remind me: Forget about it.
Get returning to harmony, they inform me.
They act as a tuning fork that resonates just with Joy, Love, Peace and Enlightenment.
And when I am with them, their requirement of love and peace is really what I need. We resonate together to produce a harmonious space.
These dogs tune me into my higher, infinite and eternal awareness.
When I am together, I truly am happy, inside a timeless realm.
I am convinced they're guardian angels, God's messengers for peace and silence, the area between the notes, the quiet at 3 am every day.
The dogs remind me to listen. They remind me to cease judgment of most creatures great and small.
They were happy when I turned off what is the news, where all the pundents scream and yell about impending doom.
Wow!! Why did I watch it way too long? No matter. It's off now, and is also off once and for all. That's the promise I built to my dearest friends, Ulysses and Mukunda.
I like it that the dogs don't talk as conversation and endless analysis. Yet they actually do converse but silently, through intuition, through loving glances, so when in the case of Mukunda, sometimes with loud barks when he sees a person's friend he recognizes.
Ulysses is even more silent than Muki. He often looks like a giant tortoise as he makes his strategy to his customary place underneath the kitchen table.
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