by a Student
PART I.— Altair.
After retiring from a stressful job, I thought it was time to enrich my life with a companion dog. While driving home one evening, the word “Altair” suddenly came to mind. “That will be the name of the dog,” I thought to myself. I stopped to visit a friend and asked if the name “Altair” sounded familiar. My friend handed me an astronomy book and told me to look it up. There it was, “Altair”, the brightest star in the constellation Aquila, the eagle.
The next day I called a dog breeder in the Midwest and enquired of puppies were available. The puppies had been born on September 1, 1998, and would be ready to leave in about eight weeks. Was it a coincidence that the constellation Aquila was visible in the later summer sky, the time when the puppies were born and the star “Altair”, unknown to me, came to mind? It was something to think about.
When the eight weeks had passed, two friends accompanied me to the airport to receive the puppy. The little fellow was withdrawn but very attentive. A three hour flight had taken almost eight hours and I was sure he was anxious and hungry.
I arrived home and over the next couple of days I observed his behavior. I was visiting friends and we decided to go for a walk. Halfway to our destination the puppy collapsed. I picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. A medical evaluation at a specialist hospital was arranged. Test results showed several internal birth defects and abnormal blood work. I was given a report that the prognosis was guarded and he may not live beyond a year.
People tried to convince me to return the puppy or put him down. I had thought about it but the bond had already developed. To me, he was a living being that deserved a chance. I had asked myself, “Does one return a sick or deformed child?”
I decided to take one day at a time, continuing with daily observations, monitoring medications, treatments, special meals, and caution with environmental allergens. He received routine physicals and blood work. Adjustments were made when necessary.
We were inseparable. Altair accompanied me wherever I traveled by car. He was observant of the smallest detail—watching the geese fly in formation, the seagulls gliding over the harbor, the boats coming and going, observing people sitting or driving in their cars and even attentive to new pictures on the wall of the vet’s exam room, much to the staff’s amazement.
He was a great observer and a great healer. He showed me how to see and during our time together I had created over 60 paintings, the most at any time. He had helped me to open my heart center and to truly feel. My cardiac evaluation which had shown major damage had completely healed with no further evidence of abnormality to the amazement of the cardiologist.
Altair was highly intelligent, extremely sensitive, extraordinarily alert to his surroundings, calm, aloof but devoted and protective. He would never allow anyone to treat him without my “ok”. There was a complete trust in our relationship. I would think and he responded to my thoughts.
To the amazement of the veterinarians, Altair remained with me for almost ten years, nine days short of his tenth birthday. I knew it was time to say farewell. I was distressed at having to make a decision, but to hold on to him would have been selfish. The vet agreed that it was time and preparations were made.
The private room was prepared and Altair was placed on a comfortable mat. Again, he would not allow anyone to touch him without my “ok”. He raised his head and looked at me. I told him he was going home. At that moment I called out for my two dear friends on the inner side of life to meet my angel dog. No sooner did I think the thought when a huge burst of white light flooded the area. I told Altair it was “ok”. He lowered his head and accepted the needle. Within two seconds he was gone.
I went home sad at not seeing him. His aura had always permeated the car, the house and grounds and it seemed empty. That evening I sat down and closed my eyes. A screen appeared and on the screen I saw Altair running as if trying to find me, perhaps not aware that he was out of the body. However, during the night I saw him again. Workers on the inner side had helped him adjust. He turned to watch me leave knowing he could not follow me as I returned to the physical body. I know without question that there is no separation. There is no “there” and no “here.” There is only one “now.” The work continues unceasingly between the inner and the outer world.
The following morning I was sitting quietly on the edge of my bed and noted distinct paw indentations on the blanket as if something was circling me. I knew Altair had returned to visit. I always visualized him as a gift of love and an expression of a soul in form. Perhaps he was the brightest star from the constellation of the eagle. He had flown high above the form that would have kept him down. His life had reflected the joy of living in the NOW. With unconditional love, mutual respect, honesty and trust, healing had taken place. He SERVED well and nothing more could have been asked of him.
PART II — Human-Animal Relations.
A tape arrived in my mail from a friend in Nevada. Recorded was a segment that was of interest to me—a message indicated that there were two-legged and four-legged humans. I thought about the statement and then clarification came to mind. Some animals have demonstrated many human qualities and are awaiting the door for individualization to be opened.
According to DK:“The relation between the human and the animal kingdoms will become increasingly close. The service of the animal to man is well recognized and of ceaseless expression. The service of man to the animals is not yet understood though some steps in the right direction are being taken. There must eventually be a close synthesis and sympathetic coordination between them and when this is the case some very extraordinary occurrences of animal mediumship under human inspiration will take place. By means of this, the intelligent factor in the animal (of which instinct is the embryonic manifestation) will be rapidly developed and this is one of the outstanding results of the intended human-animal relationship.” (Destiny of Nations 125)
“The animal kingdom has the quality of growing instinctual purpose which—in its highest form—works out as the domesticity of the more evolved animals, and their devotion to man. Behind the appearance of the animals is to be found a steady orientation towards understanding, and a consequent gravitation towards the forms of life which evidence that which they desire. Hence the influence of the fifth Ray of Concrete Knowledge, which pours through the human family upon the third kingdom in nature. Man is the initiating factor here, and to man is committed the task of leading the animal kingdom towards liberation—a liberation into the fourth kingdom, for that is the sphere of its next activity.” (EP I 198)
The Healing Power of the PURR
by Carol Ann Deans
It was the fault of toothache and chance. Chance, being in the form of the only parking space available near the dental surgery, which meant that I had to walk past the pet shop. I try never to look in pet shop windows as I hate to see little creatures caged, or on show and want to take them all home with me. I hurried past. Oh no! I made a mistake. I looked! And, looking right back at me was a gorgeous little black and white kitten. I staunchly ignored the pangs and walked briskly on to deal with more painful pangs at the dentist.
I couldn’t help it. When a girl falls in love, she falls in love, so back I went to the pet shop and home I went with a happily vibrating cardboard box. I’ve brought cats home before in cardboard boxes and they have furiously punched their way out, but not this one. She was happy, happy, happy. Out she came and claimed the teapot cosy as her new home.
I reasoned with myself that it was a good idea and a sensible thing to have a cat as we were having a bit of a mouse problem at the time. Recently the river that flowed along at the bottom of the garden had burst it’s banks and flowed through the lower apartments causing a terrible mess and making lots of little homeless creatures climb upwards.
The kitten was named Dusty as she found every little nook and cranny that had not seen a broom for a while and emerged covered in dust and fluff. She quickly took control and one morning I found her in the kitchen bursting with pride, sitting next to a very dead and very large rodent, which I realised was not a mouse, but a black rat! Her little furry white chest was puffed out as if waiting for a medal to be pinned there. She was such a character. My son and I were completely enthralled by her.
A few months later, Dusty was still a little scrap of a thing. The weather had been very strange. Heavy and hot and thundery. I didn’t feel so good. My chest felt tight and I was quite breath-less and tired and headachey. My flat felt airless but I didn’t want to open the windows too wide in case Dusty went walkabout. A good storm would have cleared the air and it became more and more difficult to get a good breath. I was alone in my flat and I lay on top of the bed hoping for a breeze but the night became heavier and heavier.
I started to get a little concerned as my airways felt on fire, as if they were closing altogether. Dusty was beside me. I felt very lightheaded and must have passed out as when I came to, Dusty was on the pillow, pressing down on the crown of my head and purring like a little dynamo. It quickly crossed my mind that this was no time for silly game, but I blacked out again, found myself at the window, then at the front door, trying to suck air from under the door. I was flapping about on the floor like a newly landed fish, losing consciousness, then finding myself in a different part of the flat, but always with Dusty either sitting on my head, or my upper chest, purring, purring, purring.
I was unable to seek help. I was not afraid, but survival instinct had taken over. I strained and flapped and flailed. I clawed at the air trying to grasp what I needed in my hands. One more breath, just one more breath. I didn’t expect to see the morning. I remember feeling sorrow for my son and my mother, and so grateful for the loving presence of my little cat.
When the dawn broke and I was still alive, it really was a new day. How to explain that shiny, other worldly, peaceful gratitude? How to explain Dusty?
Many years later when I started to learn about chakras and energy fields, I knew. Dusty understood these things and I believe kept my life force active through my crown chakra and my heart with the power of her own purring, dynamic life force.
I have also learned that if there is a cat around when any healing energy is being shared, the cat is there in a flash demanding to take part. And, boy do they purr.
Hunt Every Day for Beauty
and find out Where Dogs Go When They Die
by Carol Ann Deans
I note that day after day I write about the Beauty I find in my little garden, the birds that sing there, a new flower that opens, the friends or family I speak to on the phone and I realise I am writing a diary of gratitude. Gratitude is not what I should be writing about, I say to myself, and then of course realise that it is the same thing. I also think, how small my world is when my daily writings on beauty seem to consist of my day at home and in the garden and then, again a realisation, that my world is not small, it is immense. A smiling waitress at a beach restaurant, an inspirational film, clear views over to the next island where the white sand shimmers in the bright light. All beautiful. When I go to Glasgow for a visit, the light, I note, is not bright as it is raining constantly, but the green is SO green and gentle, and the light so forgiving that I am bathed in peace. In this gentle light one can overlook frailties. There is kindness in the damp, fecund green, the lushness of the grass, and the fine mist of colour on the budding trees. It reminds me that in the North of Scotland when it is a drizzly wet, the local people say “Aye, it’s a soft day”.
One day, back in Lanzarote, I did not have to search for beauty. It came in the form of a whirlwind, named Abi. Her Dad was coming to fix our computer and he arrived, full of apologies that he had to bring Abi with him. No problem, we assured him. Phew! Abi is a 5 and a half year old, beautiful African girl who had been adopted by Ned and his wife, who were both English but had lived here in Lanzarote for years. Abi is a force of nature. She started rushing around, being a dog, socks and shoes removed, she barked and ran around on all fours under the bushes until an injury stopped her. Then, she came into the kitchen, lay on the floor, legs up the wall, and upside down. She chatted to me about all sorts of things—who she loved, who she hated and why, absolutely open and trusting. I told her a story about two dogs I used to have and she laughed. “Where are they now” she wanted to know. Oh oh! We were about to enter the “they are dead now” conversation but as she was only 5 years old I had no idea if this was a concept she had encountered before. She wouldn’t let me off the hook so, we discussed heaven and she was most impressed that dogs went there too. How did they get there, did they have to go from planet to planet, where was heaven anyway, what did it look like, were typical questions that arose. I managed to deflect answers by asking her what she thought. And, just so you know, heaven is high above the planets, the sky there is black and the angels are silver and can fly about with their eyes closed. And, the tooth fairy wears her pyjamas when she visits because she comes late at night! Now, I didn’t know that. Exhausted by all this philosophy we watched a Tom and Jerry cartoon and at the end of it, at the credits, there was the mouse, dressed as a silver angel, complete with halo, sitting on a cushion of cloud, floating up to heaven! We both gasped and grabbed each other’s hands and said “see”. Now, that was beautiful!! Every time I think of that child I am struck by her open, loving and huge heart and I laugh with sheer joy.
THE GOD GIVEN RIGHT
by Kurt Abraham
The Cat meowed its way into the Master’s room and said: “I have a right to be a cat!”
“Indeed you do,” said the Master, “that is your God given right.”
A few days later the Cat sauntered into the Master’s room, displaying a bit of an attitude. “I have the right,” asserted the Cat, “to be a horse.”
“Why would a smart cat like you, having the run of the house, want to be a horse that stays in the barn much of the time? Besides, have you ever seen a horse catch a mouse?”
“Hmmmph,” responded the Cat and swooshed out of the room.
A few days later the Cat returned with something very serious on its mind. “I have a right to be human!” meowed the Cat in no uncertain terms, while standing very tall.
“Well,” replied the Master after some thought, “Let’s see. You keep yourself well groomed most of the time. You lounge around much of the time. When the Master beckons, sometimes you come and sometimes you don’t. You’re fussy at meal time. You often stay out too late, particularly at the time of the full moon. You get into cat fights in the middle of the night with your friendly-unfriendly neighbors. Therefore, I’d say you’re already human.”
“Hmmmph,” replied the Cat with an air of superiority, and jumped onto the Master’s favorite chair, curled up, purred, and fell asleep.