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Monday, August 1, 2022






 Pirate Francy

When Francy almost needed emergency surgery at the age of 18 I decided to have an animal communication session with/about her. I called someone because I couldn’t talk about her being sick. Everything that happened to Francy I was a ball of hysterical crying. (I let go of a few pet sitters due to that response from Francy). 

I couldn’t function that way when she was sick and dying. I love death, I love the process of it but for some reason none of that applied to Francy and was just shocking to me. The feelings I had were so disproportional to what was actually happening. I’ve lost so many animals but just the concept of losing Francy; I told a friend “I would trade them all for her.” what is that? Again, It seemed a little disproportionate. And not very kind to my other animals but they all knew, they understood. 

During the session I said one of the things I know is that some of this has got to be from a past life with her.  The animal communicator read some other things but then she said, “let’s look at a past life.” 

And here is where it all begins; she said it seems that you guys might have been pirates. I said yeah, we were pirates, there is no question about that, we were pirates. 

She said “Francy was the ship cat, and the ship was yours, so she was yours. You were both male. She was a big orange boy cat in that lifetime. You had same communication; it was very much intuitive.”

 Francy was always my intuition. if I got a hit of don’t do something that’s Francy saying yeah, don’t do that, give it another thought. As pirates, we had the same thing. 

The animal communicator continued “She would give information like ‘this is how you attack this ship; this is how you approach these people’. there was a lot of strategy that was going on with that cat and with the pirate and that cat.”

“the other part is that you’re a pirate and you’re out on the ocean; there isn’t a whole lot to do. So, there was a lot of down time. At some point there was an accident, and that big orange cat lost his leg. And so, being a pirate sailing the open ocean, full of free time, you fashioned a leg for the cat.”

“it’s not just as if you fashioned a leg, you wanted to, you had to make a working leg. You created all these prototypes. All of these different mechanisms, to figure out how to make it so it would seem to the cat he didn’t lose a leg. Fashioning it so he could still jump, he could still rat, he could still do his job. there was a lot of bonding in that. A lot of touching and figuring out how every muscle worked and moved, learning his full anatomy. Through all of that study there was tremendous bonding. But after a time, the cat died.”

“You know that’s what happens, that is the order of things. But since you’re a pirate grief is not something high on your list of abilities. the other part is at the time the relationship is between a person and an animal was very different. We have a reverence now for our animals, it just wasn’t there in that time. That cat was a domesticated beast with a job, not a companion.”

“there was just such tremendous grief and I think quite a bit of drinking as well. that is one of the ways a pirate handles his grief. Without ever admitting it, that was the demise of that pirate. He lost his best friend and confidant. He lost his chief strategist”




So fast forward 500 years or so, and I am at an adoption event in downtown Chicago meeting Francy and her bonded pair friend Ralfie. Now Ralfie had one eye, and everyone called her a pirate forever. Someone gave me an eye patch for her, you know because she was the pirate. Her chiropractor always said “argggh, Ralfie says arrgh.” It was hilarious. So that would make sense but that was not Francy. No one called Francy a pirate.

On that day I had set out on a journey to find a specific cat. I couldn’t decide if these two were the ones, so I went to urban outfitters to find a magic 8 ball, because obvi that’s the only place you get a true answer. 

(this was before I did any energy work, ever.)

I asked the magic 8 ball am I ever going to that specific cat I was looking for, and it said “Definity Yes”. at the moment I saw “Definity Yes” I knew that that had everything to do with those two cats. I resigned myself to not finding the specific cat I was looking for. 

I told the animal communicator, when she finished the reading, “I just want you to know, that was what I was looking for that day, the day that I met Francy; I was looking for a big three-legged orange boy cat.

It took eighteen years to learn that it was true. It was true that I had found my three-legged orange boy. It was Francy coming back in a whole new way; a way that we could cherish and relish each other.

I tell this story now and it doesn’t choke me up, instead it gives me goosebumps. Before I would never have been able to get that story out without being on the floor crying. 95% of the grief that I had for her was from this unresolved past life. The rest is mine in present time and it makes sense and feels proportional and manageable.

I wasn’t to share this as a great example of “you’re never making it up”. You may not know why you’ve seen it that way or why it doesn’t make any sense, that is totally cool. Why the hell would that have made any sense? And again, I hadn’t done any energy work I didn’t know anything about working energy. I did know that a magic 8 ball was where you find your answers, I don’t know how I knew that, but I did and as crazy as it was it got me to my answer. Following my intuition brought me to my greatest love; Francy.




Monday, May 23, 2022


 

 ODIE’S EYES 


 

11 years ago today, Odie and I began our journey together. He came to my home broken, shut down and fear aggressive. Odie would go from 0 to 100 with no warning. His body would slightly stiffen just before he’d freak out. I was able to communicate with him using a leash. He would immediately stop once I touched his leash.  

After our first year together, Odie had his eyes removed and we continued to learn to trust each other. When people would visit, they couldn’t even look at him without him having a tantrum. That’s how sensitive he was! 

 

Odie was always an amazing traveler and very well behaved outside of the house, but at home he was a beast. If I got out of bed or off the couch he wouldn’t let me back without a tantrum. To be honest, I tried (unsuccessfully) to return him. Odie is my first dog (ever) and I had no idea how to manage his unpredictable behavior. We had couple of trainers that helped a little bit but day to day it was a hard time. When I found that the @anticruelty accepted surrenders 24/7/365, we began the conversation of “not today”. Knowing I had an out actually helped me commit and stay in present time with him.  

 



 

After our move to Nevada almost 5 years later Odie relaxed beyond my wildest expectations. Each year he made amazing breakthroughs. 3 years later, he finally laid on his side, a year after that he taught himself to go up and down the stairs, and the piece de resistance he let me hold him on his back! People who met Odie later in his life can’t imagine he was ever such a beast and people who knew Odie from the beginning can’t believe how far he’s come. Odie became a certified therapy dog. 

 

When I adopted him, they said he was 10 years old, when he had his eyes removed the vet said he was much closer to 5. In the end 8-10 is probably closer to his age.  

Odie’s story is a testament to what can blossom with patience and time. It was clear that Odie knew love before he met me but clearly something horrible happened and he became so isolated and afraid. I am honored to have been a part of his healing and treasured every moment we spent together, even when we argued over his desire for cat food.  

 

One of the most amazing serendipitous parts of my story with Odie is that I met him before I met him.  

In November of 2010 I was picking up a guinea pig from @cacc_adoptable_dogs to transfer to a Guinea pig rescue and decided to check out the adoptable dog room. It was a cacophonous space. The dogs barking reverberated through me. The small dogs were along a wall of cages. One had a sign I found intriguing, it said “blind”. I started to approach the cage thinking “hey, I have a blind cat, how different could a blind dog be?” (I soon learned how wholly and completely) and caught myself again thinking “that dog is a hot mess!” 

 

It must have been within a week that the pet shop in Evanston IL, where I lived, pulled him. He stayed at that pet shop for six months before I realized he wasn’t the shop dog and he shouldn’t live there. And it wasn’t until after I adopted him, and he was in my house that I realized that he was the same dog I saw six months earlier. Clearly when I saw a “hot mess”, he saw “momma!”  

 

Just before I moved from Evanston, I brought Odie to say goodbye to the people who saved him at the pet shop. I had a chance to talk to the owner who physically took him from CACC. She told me when she opened his cage Odie put his paws around her neck and wouldn’t let go. She also said everyone who worked at the shelter told her “you don’t want that dog”. She told them she didn’t have any choice because he wouldn’t let go... Odie knew exactly who he had to hold on to get his freedom ride to where I lived.  

If you ever wonder if animals choose us, Odie is a great example of the magical lengths they will go through to find their person.  

 

 lymphoma/limˈfōmə/noun:; plural noun: lymphomata; plural noun: lymphomas 1) cancer of the lymph nodes. 

This is what bodies do. We can say it sucks and tell it to fuck off or launch the fight of our lives, but this is what bodies do. They breakdown. Maybe from being broken open to all the love.  

As devastated as I am at Odie’s diagnosis, I will not let this cloud my vision or knowledge of the amazing spirit I have had the honor to spend eight years, and will never lose.  

 

Odie doesn’t belong to me and as much as he’s become a part of me, and much as my heart breaks for the breaking down of this tiny body I can see the strength of his spirit coming to fruition. He was so broken, and he is now returning to wholeness. Whatever the amount of time we had will never be enough.  

What I do know was Odie is happier than he’s ever been in his life. I continued supporting this happiness for as long as possible. He always referred to his lymphoma as his “bubbles of love”. Odie told me that his body was taking in so much love that made these bubbles. 

 

Please know that you are a huge part of that happiness. Instagram has changed both of our lives and built our relationship on a foundation of love and joy and fun. Thank you for being here and continuing this journey with us as we begin a new journey as Odie's Healing Habitat.

 

Odie passed August 17, 2019 

Rest in Love