12.4.14 The Little Lost Dog

12.3.14
 Please say a little prayer- for an abandoned young dog. Looked in my kitchen window today- all ribs and injured leg, so skittish could not get near . Is eating the food I put out for the stray cat- tiny like a tan and white Beagle- old collar , no tags. 
Called police and Mitch's Marina- turns out everyone in the neighborhood has tried to approach this small young one. He thought it was a hunter's dog, abandoned. 
I told him I'll make a little shelter from the elements, and put out dog food during the day, when the Coywolves aren't around. 
If the young dog eats enough before it gets freezing, at least they may survive the elements. 
So yeah, poor sweet thing- say a good fat prayer for the very best, which, in life, who are we to know what that is ?

12.4.14 


Re:; the little lost dog- 
Nice that it's warm-ish and has stopped raining today.
 After the little dog ate all the food last night, I put another big bowl out this morning, with water, before driving my beloved to work. When I got back? Gone. Great!
 As I walked around behind my house, out in the field, was the little dog, limping across.
 I called to them, and they stopped for a moment, and looked at me, before limping along.
 So at least they 're associating my smell and my voice and what I look like, with their new food source.
I went to the store and bought a large plastic container to put outside, upside down, and cut a doorway in it. Put a blanket in it. 
Sure, it would be nice if they decided to take shelter in there if it got cold, but the coyotes to go by here. The real purpose is to slowly move it toward their new food source, desensitizing them to it behaviorally. Having them come back over and over and over again, fattening up, while I look around for a place that will loan me a dog cage that traps them. 
Then I'll have the food next to the cage, then in the cage a little bit, then all the way in the cage, and then after that, I'll set the trap.
I'll check craigslist today, to see if anyone has reported a lost dog, but no one called the police or animal control. There are no tags. 
I have someone lined up who wants the dog, A really nice young guy who works at Dave's Soda and Pet Food City. 
I went down to Mitch's Marina, to the guy spoke to on the phone yesterday , to help me cut the doorway in the plastic container, as it was thicker than I anticipated.
 And I wanted to meet him. We had a great time talking. 
He helps the guy who started the food bank farm deliver vegetables on their bicycles, even in the winter. Just because of believing in that. Runs the marina now.
 He said that the whole neighborhood was rooting for me managing to save this dog. 
He said the world has a lot of suffering, but if you can do one small thing, that's a good thing. 
The Dakin no kill shelter is considering lettingme borrow their very expensive one dog trap cage that they don't lend out. Looking good for it. 
And the warmer weather should hold for this week .
 Sure was nice to see that little one crossing the field this morning, and chowing down so well.
 Thanks for your prayers.

12.3.14 A beautiful quiet grey day

 A layer of freezing rain 

glistening on every grass, 

every branch. 

Overcast and subdued.

12.3.14 As I watch her, and the snow turns to rain, and the silent night stretches out far beyond

Outside, the snow that pattered all through the forest hours ago; that Shiva and I stood outside to feel or hear- quite musical and loud; John Cage would have heard the chorale - now is slowly turning to rain, as once again the old girl and I stand, drinking in the sounds and smells of the night. 
The banging and bashing of Chicopee and never-resting industry, over across the river, and down wind- but audible now that most trees stand disrobed, the sound flees across this land, and right up to us.
You can hear the trains whistling, come winter, as if they were pounding through the back yard.
And the city lights of Northampton, just across the Connecticut, shine , this time of year , and wink through the forest.
 


In fact, now come December ,we see distant hills in three directions, a compensation for the loss of temperate seasons, as the hard cold times approach.

There are too many hunters, bang banging all day long ; so the deer hide carefully, and the Coywolves stay quiet, til December has come and gone - then semi automatics can kill Coywolves for fun , but only come daylight. And the deer and turkey and small birds can wander about once again .
I hear my far next door neighbor's ATV stuck far off in the outwaters, and I can't deny I feel some delight. As he has often illegally barreled through conservation lands through the night, snowmobiles whining come snowfall, bashing about lands and alarming wildlife. But it is what it is , here, as it is other places, humans making these choices.

Still, the Coywolves come by each night, up to the compost, not necessary now, but come deep frigid winter, a necessity . 

And now I know the snow reveals one surviving small pup, and so far, one huge parent- but who knows- I may not have noticed the tracks of the others.

Driving home in the darkness, we pull in to see the homeless cat perched, beautiful, beneath the picnic table that holds the bird feeders. 

I received a coupon in the mail, and quietly used it for a big bag of Dave's natural cat food. Uncertain whether the beautiful black with white underbelly hungry one eats it each night , or a possum or the young Coywolf; but now I know the cat who comes for cooked squash out of the compost- prefers late afternoon, so I'll put out their daily allotment then, before they are a better meal for the canines.
In the meantime, still with the huge Sassafras branch lying by the feeders, there is happy mayhem among the winged ones all day long ; who knew a complex limb of so many small little branches would be the reason for such avian happiness? 

As Shiva and I stand out once more, she feeling the cool icy snow turn to rain as it sinks into her beautiful old fur. 

As I breathe deep the fresh cold air, leaning in the doorway, making the pup stay inside and be second, always, to teach him that respect for his elder. 

As I know Kevin is tucking into the warm bed and the cats competing for hip perch, and the chance to curl under his arm, for a heavenly chest massage, before the lot of them fall and fall asleep, hard. 

As Shiva and I remain near the field boundary , she lifting her head to smell of things far away and indeterminate to us mere humans. 

As she struggles with the hard bits of being old, and completely delights in every delicious moment that remains hers to relish. 

As I watch her, and the snow turns to rain, and the silent night stretches out far beyond, from this moment's darkness.

12.13.14 Everywhere We Go

Everywhere we go is a neighborhood.

 Everywhere we go , 
so many species have been living there,
 for so very very long. 

We are the newcomers - 
the new kids on the block.

12.3.14 My true love-I confess- the muted colors of winter

12.3.14 Oh, Come ON!

"Just love these new meet ups, don't you?"
"Yeah, me too. Seems so familiar!"
"Oh, whoops. Here we go, we're all taking a lap. 
Come on!"

12.3.14 A Murmur Of Our Starlings (Be Still My Heart)

A local dairy farm and farm store; one with plenty of space for cows to wander about , which is not always the case. 

And the year-round flocks of Starlings, with new young ones year after year, 
flourishing with a steady food and water supply. 

Lovely.

12.3.14 All But A Memory and Gone

Come winter, there is no
need for gardens here; not their
riotous profusion, nor their
endless, tender care

Instead, the beds lie
barren now, forgotten
Their dew slicked leaves
limp from frost ; those heavy

Blossoms fallen
The bustling insects
that sang so sweetly
through endless summer evenings
all but a memory, and gone

11.30.14 My Pup and I

Down by the river, 

the wind stirred; 

slipped cold up my sleeves,

 as the whitecaps flew 

atop the powerful current, 

while far on the horizon blossomed 

an orange surprise; 

as we strolled through the evening's mud, 

my pup and I.

12.1.14 The Inner Lives Of Others

On this 44• day, the birds are CRAZY for the Sassafras limb I found broken 
after the microburst went through a few weeks ago. 

Thought I'd put it to good use, and pulled it up to the bird feeding table. 

They're so excited! 
Acting like it's an amusement park or something, 
jumping on and off and from one branch to another . 
Ah, the inner lives of others .

12.1.14 Just To Cozy Up To Each Other

Bright and early, this morning, out of one bird house climbed several sparrows, blinking, stretching their wings, ready to go visit the birdfeeders. Their parents had laid their clutch in this bird House, after modifying the nest that the Carolina wrens raised a clutch in before them. The babies just returned to the family home. For the night. Just to cozy up to each other.

12.2.14 And a morning where hope reigns, to you.

11.30.14 "Yes To Dance Beneath The Diamond Sky..."

"Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky 
with one hand waving free
Let me forget about today 
until tomorrow."
                                                                        Bob Dylan

11.30.24 How Often Do We Find Ourselves

How often do we find ourselves

 hustling our lives along, 

troubled by a longing for the future, 

fear of or yearning for the past, 

and weariness of the present? 

When clarity ,and profound ease, 

is here, in this moment.

11.30.14 One of my favorite things about cold winter? Hot soup or stew.

11.30.14 Long Ago, A Life

Long ago (27 years) I worked as a Caseworker at a Home Care, visiting older people in their homes, and evaluating them for receiving free services to help them remain in their homes . One of my clients was an elegant, remarkable woman in her 90's.

I would visit her in her beautiful big worn farmhouse, spare and yet lovely and worn. It was evident she had not had much money for some time, but what she did have was 7 dogs! 

She was bedridden, and recently had become blind. Her nephew had built a gorgeous woodworking shop on her land, and came by to help her in the morning and evening, and check in and let the dogs in and out. He was a kind young man, with a young family, and very fond of her.

She lay in a single bed , her bedroom off the living room and kitchen. Her long long white hair was in a single braid, and as her various dogs came in to kiss her and wag their helloes, she simply lit up, embracing them and delighting in them all. 

She described the books on tape the aide had begin kicking up for her at the library down the road, while shopping for her. And described for me how she had decided to learn to play violin. 

I never saw her for moment concerned or unhappy . I'm certain she was human , and experienced all those human moments . 

But the thing is, what she wanted more than anything was to go ahead and wear depends, live all alone in her chilly drafty old house with her Lifeline around her neck, have the aides come to clean dishes and house a bit and laundry and cook up simple stews that lasted for 8 lunches and dinners, and be in her home, with her passel of wiggling loving canines . 

Not simple, but today on this dark winter day, I am just remembering the intelligent, definitive glow of her face , well loved in her life.

11.30.14 Both Hurrying and Delaying

Both hurrying ,and delaying ,

are habits we acquire ,

 that enable us to avoid 

simply being 

in this present moment.

11.29.14 My own motivation to focus and face aging ,

My own motivation to focus and face aging , 

possible challenges and isolation ,

and the absolute of dying,

 is strongly influenced both 

by the very real fear and misery

 I would experience , 

should I arrive unprepared

 and grown and ripened 

into acceptance and understanding; 

and the irrevocable revelation 

of the experience I am now having - 

spending more and more time 

in this present moment.