Simply Authentic...your soul voice is calling. Animals and Authenticity

Animals & Authenticity

Pets have been in my life my entire life.

Mom tells me my first word was “kitty.”

I grew up on a farm in South Dakota, surrounded by animals. Wildlife. Birds. A milk cow.  Horses. The cattle my father raised for beef. Indoor cats, outdoor cats, Lucy the dog, and Princess the part-Welsh pony buckskin horse - who became my immediate best friend when I first met her on my 9^th birthday. 

And she was no “princess”, trust me! Princess had been abused, and came to us with a four inch long saddle sore on her back, refusing to accept a bit or a saddle even after I had nurtured her enough her head was no longer hanging close to the ground and she had her spirit back! Dad was absolutely confounded when she broke even a very strong nylon rope when he tried tying her up in the barn.

I rode Princess with a hackamore, bareback. Her neck and mane absorbed the tears of my adolescent angst as I was going through those tough years human girls often do as they are heading into young adulthood. I loved Princess perhaps even more than I loved the non-furry people in my life at that time.

I admit it irks me when I hear people using the word “owner” or “master” in reference to their relationship with the furry kids. I use the word “Mom.” And that’s not accurate either, because in so many ways, animals are my teachers. There is no pretense when it comes to the furry or feathered kids. They are completely, 100% authentic.

When I adopt animals, I adopt them for life. Which means I will likely outlive them.

When Fargo the dog passed in October, 2007, it was at my hand, in a manner of speaking. He had been diagnosed with a severe disk herniation and arthritis throughout his pelvis and spine at the age of nearly 11. He was living on pain medication, would have been recovering from surgery for the rest of his life, and pulled himself around with his front paws as his back end wasn’t functional. I held him up while he peed and pooped, and had wonderful neighbors who took care of him when I was working at the office.

It was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make, finding a vet to come to my home and “put him down” there. Fargo’s front half still functioned, and his face was still smiley as he would crawl to the living room when I got home from work. I am getting teary remembering this, five years later.

Fargo and I were so bonded; I knew it would take a lot of grief time before I would be ready to adopt another furry kid again.

Guess what? I lasted one week.

Then I was at Salem Friends of the Felines adopting Lady, who had been in the shelter for almost a year and a half, at the age of 5. The day I brought her home, she talked to me incessantly from her crate during the drive, and I talked back. “Reaaar!” “You’re coming home with me. This will be your home. I’ll make it really nice for you.” “Reaaaar!” “I know you must be scared, but I promise I will take good care of you, and you will be happy.” “Reaaaar!”” Etc. When we got home, she crawled under the bed and hid for about 45 minutes. Then she came out, found her litter box, water and food, explored the entire place, and curled up against the small of my back that night, purring the whole time while we slept together. Bingo! What an incredible, awesome match!

Then, about 8 months later, came Katie, who had been in the Animal Aid shelter for five years, almost her whole life. This was much trickier, involving separate rooms for the cats, slowly introducing them, and having absolutely no idea what Katie’s personality was like as she had been sleeping in a corner in the shelter for so long. She was quite traumatized.

On Thanksgiving day morning, 2008, I woke up to find Katie sleeping on the sofa, finally making herself at home. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I just said something under my breath, something like “Good Morning, Sweetheart,” and went into the bathroom to have a full-out happy dance with everything in me, but very quiet! I turned my head up to the ceiling and said, “Praise be!” Yes, I actually did say those exact two words.

By the way, as I am writing this, Katie is at my feet, purring like gang-busters, and I am reaching over to pet her head and rub her ears and neck.

The two cats with whom I am fortunate enough to share space are two of my wisest teachers. (And I thought I rescued THEM from long term assignments in no-kill shelters!) In periods of MY stress, Lady Jane gets right in my face as a mirror. We tend to poop at the same time. When I have diarrhea (which I did four days in a row), she does, too. When she wants carbs she doesn't need, as I often do, she does this yowling kind of talk anyone who has ever had a bold cat will recognize. Katie Mae, on the other hand, is so sensitive to any stress I experience, she goes to her usual under-the-bed hiding place. After she senses my energy shifting, then she will come out. Or, I will call her, and she knows "Mom is okay now."

I know the four-footed furry beings, and the two-legged feathered beings amongst us can be some of our greatest teachers when it comes to authenticity.

Here’s to your furry and feathered creatures and teachers. Cheers! (Apparently Blogspot is telling me I am no longer able to post photos from my computer - bummer! So this post will need to be photo free for the time being.)

Authentically Yours, Laura