Animals

My horse had her own kitten. The kitten was black and white. Her name was Megan. I only called her Megan when I was mad at her. I used to call her Morgan Mule. I called her Meg for short.

She had her own black and white kitten, and she got skunked. She must have thought it was her kitten.

She was running to me, because I had whistled for her. And she stopped dead in her tracks and wouldn’t move.

I walked down. I thought something had happened. And then I smelled her.

I guess I’ll start from the beginning. I always loved horses growing up.

When I was 17, I got a job. I saved my money and I bought one. She was 11 months old.

She didn’t know how to be a horse, and I didn’t know how to be a rider – we changed though.

Well, 15 years later, my mom was very sick. I worked 2 jobs trying to keep the horse, and keep the family together, because I had to cook and clean.

It broke my heart to have to sell that 15 years old, but I had no problem selling her.

I got $3000 for her and I paid $150.

Did you ever go outside and feel that all the birds were singing?

Every single one. So many different songs. That there was a kind of happiness in the air. An exuberance at this moment. As if anything was possible.

Strange, isn’t it - the thought “As if anything was possible?” Most of us rarely think of this.

Suppose, just for a moment that it really is true – that it can be true - that anything is possible right now, just because I tune into and play with “anything is possible.”

What would you do? Really, what would you do?

It seemed like it would be our ordinary 30 minute walk around our neighborhood, the same route, like every other day – but far from it this day.

First, as we approached a corner, we suddenly noticed a huge turkey vulture sitting on top of a telephone pole with its back away from us.

It was completely unfazed as we stood there for a few minutes admiring this unusual, beautiful sight.

But nothing prepared us for what we were about to come upon in the next few minutes.

When I was little, every year a turtle would slowly wander into our yard. She was a big turtle, maybe about 12 inches across her hard, patterned shell. She was various shades of green, and her legs came out to the sides, showing her little claws when she walked. You could also see her little tail poking out of the back of her shell.

It was interesting to see her long, green neck, and how she could pull her head into her shell. She was such an intriguing creature!

When my cat heard about the number of dogs featured on Heart Speak, he demanded equal time.
My cat, Ollie, is 19 years old. In cat years, that puts him well into contention with Warren Buffett. Ollie is at least as wise as Buffett, too.
My cat and I talk to each other a lot. Although I'm not very fluent in cat language, he seems to understand me very well. And I certainly understand him. Whenever he's feeling hungry or lonely, I know exactly what to do.

I just read something that I wanted to share with you that I think is a really important message
It was something written from a veterinary of his thoughts from his practice thru out the years
How many pet owners go to his office when it is time for their pets to exit and depart earth and go on to heaven
They do not want to be there when they leave and bring their pet into the office
He was saying and I am saying
Your pet is your family and is part of your family

As I woke up this morning
I stumbled into my kitchen to do my dishes
I was half groggy and half asleep
As I was doing my dishes and looked out the kitchen window
I saw this beautiful blue bird, it was like a violet blue, and it was rust colored
It wasn’t a blue bird
I wasn’t sure what kind of bird it was
It was sitting on top of my patios table closed umbrella just perched
Looking all around just like taking in the scene, the scenery around him

I am drawn to where the past lingers on, like Sturbridge Village Museum in Massachusetts, where people dress up in yesteryear clothes and character. It is truly amazing how these people fit their parts so well, as if being transported back 300 years.

Seeing the farmer in a long coat shepherding a flock of sheep thru the village green.

Seeing the potter casually spinning a clay pot.

Seeing the tinker making a lantern of tin or a candleholder of pewter.

Seeing how they cook in a hearth with an open fragrant log fire.

It was the end of fall, and we put out a pumpkin on the front steps for the squirrels to enjoy.

A large chubby squirrel came up and started eating it. He was not shy, or perhaps he was too awestruck by such a wonderful feast appearing for him out of the blue.

In any case, we slowly opened the front door so only the storm door, a full pane of glass, stood between us and him. We were one foot away as he continued to chew his way thru the pumpkin – to the point at which he was able to sit inside it and eat all around himself.