When we are confronted with that which is amazing and wonderous and profound, too often our first response is to reduce that experience with mundane explanations, even if in doing so, we are compelled to distort and forget that which we knew, if even for a brief moment, to be true.

These are the wonderous stories of the Heart Family.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Finding Home

One thing I have learned over the years is that the animals know where they are supposed to be, they know where their home is and usually come into this life already focused on the intention of getting to their home and family, when the time is right. When friends tell me that they are thinking about acquiring a companion animal and wonder where to go to find them, I smile and tell them to just announce their intention to the universe, and the animal(s) will find them.

My family found their way home in their own unique ways. What I was unaware of at the time, was that a family member had made his way to his family (our home) and I had adopted him out to another family. The foster kitten who had left to live with the young couple then had to double his efforts to get back home to me. He did this by destroying everything he could in the home he was in, including destroying books, creating serious deep scratches into wooden bookcases, scratches I would not believe a cat could make, and by incessantly harassing the other cat in the home. After five months of tornadic activity, the nice young couple felt they had no choice and returned him to me.

He was bigger now, quiet a handsome fellow, full of more energy than any other cat I had met. I had always liked him and had kept tabs on him after he was adopted away. Now that he had returned again, I felt quite bad that in his first nine months of life, he had changed homes five time. Clearly we hadn't done right by this guy and my heart went out to him, trying to image the world from his point of view.

He spent his evening chasing my two boys (he didn't bother my girl) but when the chaos finally did end, he would not sleep with the rest of us, choosing instead to find a place alone in another room. Like a child in foster care, he didn't have the feeling of belonging.

Sitting with the desperate feeling that we needed to do better than we had done for this young guy, I dug up the name and phone number of the communicator given to me many months earlier, to consider a consultation - something I still had great doubts about. I read again the name and thought it seemed familiar.

It suddenly dawned on me - I had just read her book on animal communication.

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