Thursday, June 25, 2009

Talking to Animals

This is Chundo, my mom's weimeraner and this is an homage to a photo by William Wegman, by Kim Gassen.

This is Beau, the late ferret of Vicious Weasel descent.

Chundo again.

Beau and Patchouli circa 2001.

Sifl (aka Szifal); 1/2 Husky, 1/2 Lab (aka Labsky).

Maxine, my cat soulmate, who lives with my mom.

Pele Cottontail, roommate.

Inga, golden retriever, roommate.

Luna, 1/2 Husky, 1/4 Pit Bull, 1/4 Blue Heeler, roommate.

Psymon, roommate.


Once, many moons ago, Shane (my tarot-card-reading-shaman-guy-who-is-also-a-Libra-and-a-gay-boy-with-a-parrot he calls his "familiar"--he doesn't sound real, does he? I miss him...) told me one day I would suddenly realize I could talk to animals. For years I waited for this to happen; for a time, I even lost faith that it would. Lately we've (me, my bf, and my two married roommies Jill and Adam) been having issues with Inga escaping our backyard into my mother's (she lives next door)...like all day, every day. The SECOND we let the beasts outside, Inga is gone. A few days ago Luna was whimpering and whining. I went outside to check on her and found her attempting frantically to dig under the fence to escape...to join Inga perhaps? To prove she could get out too? To run off and explore the town? Whatever her plan, I was NOT having it and I scolded her sternly in my most authoritative voice. I held her gaze with unflinching eye contact for about 45 seconds, telling her with my eyes that she would NOT be escaping our yard. I felt my communication of dominance reverberate through her and I KNEW I could walk back inside without any worry that she would return to her task of disobedience. And I was right. Despite Inga's daily escapes and Luna's loneliness without her, she stays without question. And THIS was that moment Shane had predicted many moons ago. I do not feel that this is a supernatural ability. It is available within us all, should we choose to use it.

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