A story about dogs and a poem about dicks

My hubby and I strolled with the dog down by the lake. I peered into the water to see if a muskrat might be nearby, but none was seen today. Our dog, whose nick name is “Rin,” sniffed at the rewilded area around the natural playground with logs and a little wooden bridge, a swingset and a bench. She also found nothing for her trouble, though our intentions, had we found a critter may have been slightly off kilter from one another. In reality, I couldn’t have taken a photo even if I saw a muskrat, since I didn’t bring a device. My dog couldn’t have gotten the critter she seemed to sniff was under there, hiding, because my husband had her firmly on a leash. The reason I don’t bring my device everywhere is because it is also a form of a leash. And since my intentions are for a free and peaceful humanity, where sovereignty and harmony go together, I really don’t need a leash. I need, specifically, to be off leash. Well anyway, there we were strolling, sniffing, gazing, and my gaze perused the Lakeview and then, as we walked up the path that lends itself to both pedestrians and bikers along the waterside, and facing a neighborhood near downtown on the other side of it, I noticed a woman and several furry friends, one of whom looked a little like Rin. I felt a kinship and smiled. It took her a moment to realize I am smiling at her because I know, intuitively we have a dog connection that will also lead to and foster a human one.

Soon she picks up the thread I’ve lovingly thrown across the street and smiles back. I wave. She asks me a question about the age of my dog. I answer and send the reciprocal question. If you put my dog’s age with the combined average of her dogs, they are the same age, I offer. And soon we are talking about the deeper aspects things related to dogs:

She shares how one of hers loves to make friends but is terrible at it. She shares she had a brain tumor and when she was recovering, she couldn’t socialize him properly when he was a puppy. Then covid hit. He gets over excited, then freaks himself out and runs away.

I listen and empathize. I mention how sometimes it’s the same with people: sometimes we want to connect - we really, really want to connect - but we aren’t always skillful.

She shares how originally one of her dogs was a foster that she adopted, and the the mom, who was also a foster had a whole litter. One of those dogs got adopted by this guy, and later the two of them got together. Now they are together and have a whole family of dogs that are, in various ways, related to one another! AMAZING! She also shared that, although the other dog of hers isn’t always skillful at meeting new friends, if it does per chance go well, a friend is a friend for life.

I am reflecting now on how sacred and precious it is when you meet people who, for all your flopping around trying figure out etiquette while still being who you truly are, recognize you, love you, and appreciate you. None of us is skillful at everything. But we all have something truly wonderful to offer others, especially if we are willing to work at becoming more skillful. It is also wonderful when we find people who don’t need us to be any more skillful in order to love us and want to be our friend just as we are. There is no judgment. For those of us whose harmonies and dissonances are different than the collective, it will be rare. And that is why it is such a treat. Sometimes its something we grow into with those around us, as we learn to soften our edges or sharpen our clarity - or both - and those around us learn to trust our heart even if our conclusions about things are very different. from the mainstream, or even from various versions of “alt” that often try, in their own ways to be divisive, because usually they are fed by the same polarized interests that pivot to infiltrate various angles of alt.

It takes huge amounts of discernment and love to see this and come back to simplicity.

Dogs. Human connection. Love. The miraculous nature of how interconnected everything and everyone truly is!

I told the woman, our dog is half puppy, half old man. She completely got it. Years ago, I never would have had this conversation, because I am not a born dog person. I learned to speak dog, out of love for my daughter, who came in preferring animals over people. Now, I can never go back. Although I hope someday my relationship with my daughter is healed, in the mean time, she has given me the great gift of speaking dog. There are so many dogs I know and love, and new ones I get to meet often. I never would have paid them attention if it had not been for trying to learn to speak the love language of my daughter. Dogs are also a way I talk to their humans about issues related to things we need greater awareness around.

POEM

If a dog smelled out all the higher ups

Who pretend the rules and articulation of how things are or should go

Is all about protecting the pups

I think they’d smell

Something aint good

Something’s up

Wrinkle your nose

Friends were turned into foes

And the ones at the tippety top

They know

They know

But the ones in the middle

They just try to mind their business

Not step on toes

Stay in line

Cover your face

Cover your nose

Say yes when you deep down ought to at least ask

If your Higher Self would have you say no

Say no when your Truth is

Actually

YES

The ones in the middle, even the higher middle

They are afraid, trying not to go piddle

Or they simply know so little

If dog is God spelled backward

Could a dog smell the inversion

Could they smell the ones who crave false light

Instead of God

Falsettos

In Stelletos

Costellos

And the Mob

Kissinger

And Klaus Schwab

Co-opted psychedelics

By the same people betting on Morgans

With JP

Can we stop investing

In blackened hearts

Hard as rock?

Can we stop allowing the elite to rape children with cult rituals, while they pillage the massages through manipulating the stocks?