The Dog-gie Pad Project – Inspiration

Photo by Katherine Adams (I think)

The day I found the doggie pad page on facebook, I had looked at a lot of shelter dog images and seen some of the dogs lying on little pieces of cloth or blankets on their otherwise bare kennel floors and thought…wow, nice that they do this for the dogs. Not everywhere, just some, and it was a good thing for the dogs. That night I found doggie pad  page and project – a lady got inspired one day and started making blankets for other dogs elsewhere … – so inspiring, I decided to make a page here just to show you that if you are open to it and willing …you’ll see a need where you are and start acting.  Here is her  facebook page: The-Doggie-Pad-Project. Read how it all came about (copies from the page on facebook, in case you don’t have a facebook account) – or scroll for more images at the bottom of this page 🙂

How the “doggie pad project” began …

by Kat

I was looking at the pictures of the dogs at MCACC eastside that were posted on
Craigslist by one of the gals that take pictures of them, in hopes of finding them a home. I noticed they all look so sad and were laying on the bare concrete. I emailed the photographer Kathy and inquired if the dogs ever have anything to sleep on … Kathy responded that when there are materials to put in the kennels, they do …

This was heartbreaking to me. As I looked at my dog Bowie, who was adopted from that facility, I wondered how many cold lonely nights he spent there. I just knew I had to try to do something to help the shelter dogs! For a few days Kathy and I emailed back and forth about the situation. I shared my plan that “Every dog in the shelter would have something to sleep on every night” Kathy was wonderful and supportive! As I don’t drive, she offered to come and pick me up the nights she takes the pictures!

I posted on Craigslist asking people to donate any comforters, blankets, bedspreads that they don’t need for the shelter dogs. Many like myself, did not know that there was a need for the bedding and I started getting responses.

The first pink comforter showed up and I looked at it and thought that this could give one dog a bed, or I could cut it into smaller pieces and help more than one … and the sewing began …

In the first couple days, I had made 35 doggie pads from donations. I was so excited and Kathy came to get me to go to the shelter to place them. We were there after hours, so the kennels would be unlocked so we could gain access. I was introduced to Janet and told her about our plan and showed her the 35 pads. Janet thought it was wonderful, but there were 357 kennels! She advised to try to give the adoptable dogs the bedding to help us narrow down deciding which dog would be off the concrete that night. note : Bowie was located at PetSmart by MCACC, so I had never been to the shelter before …

I realized that our efforts that night were only a drop in the bucket, so much more needed to be done. There was one mamma dog in there with her new litter of puppies, she looked so sad trying keep her puppies warm and fed. We placed a doggie pad in her kennel and watched her arrange all her puppies on it. Then she looked up at us and in her eyes I could see that she was so grateful. Kathy and I both had tears in our eyes and knew we were about to start an amazing journey together.

I stepped up my postings on Craigslist, thanked all that donated and told them about our first night at the shelter and having to choose which dog would get something to sleep on and the mamma dog with her puppies. I promised that I would keep on sewing as long as I had the donated materials to work with. The emails and donations came pouring in! So many wonderful people stepped up to help! I was sewing at least 40 hours a week and Kathy and I were placing them at night when she was taking pictures …

I began wondering where all the pads were going, as I didn’t see the last ones we brought. It was then I learned that they were all picked up in the morning and bagged to be washed. Then at night, if there were any to put down, more bedding would be placed. We were shown the huge pile of soiled bedding in plastic bags and MCACC did not have the facilities to keep it up.

Kathy and I talked about it and decided the only way to keep the doggie pads in use, was to ask for help with laundry. There went another huge plea for help on Craigslist to help … again we had another great response from kind folks. LuAnn’s office raised money to pay for a huge laundry day at the laundromat, where a gal name Jessica spent 8 hours washing and folding with me. Many others, that I never got to meet, went on their own and picked up 3 or 5 bags and washed it with their own money. Others offered to bring some home and get them cleaned up and returned.

It was an uphill battle, despite our efforts we couldn’t supply the demand needed … I am not sure how it happened, but once in a while a laundry service was used and caught us up … thank goodness!

The donations kept coming and I kept sewing as I promised. I started taking pictures to show all that were helping and what their donations were actually helping! Then I burned out both of my sewing machines and ran out of thread. We didn’t have the money to buy a new machine or supplies and I was so sad, so much more needed to be done!

My husband Bob went on Craigslist and contacted everyone that had a sewing machine for sale (I didn’t know about this at the time) and told them what my friends and I were trying to do for the shelter dogs. An amazing lady said she would just give me, her sewing machine so we could continue on … A lady that works with LuAnn donated a box full of threads which LuAnn brought to me! We were back in business! I said many prayers of thanks for all these wonderful people that have come together to help the shelter dogs!

I have met some of the most beautiful people in this world by working together on this project! There is this one senior that has really touched my heart. She is not in good health, but likes to go to yard sales on the weekends. She spreads the word about the shelter dogs sleeping on concrete and asks if they would donate any bedding they have in their sale … every sunday that she was able to get donations, I find them by my front door, waiting to be sewn into doggie pads … even to this day!

I lost track of the total amount of doggie pads made after 4,000. Aside from MCACC east and west, some also went to Circle L, Circle M, Helping Orphaned Hounds, Lost Paws, Rockstar Rescue and Second Chance Ranch rescues … Just to name a few!

Now that the nights are cooling down, I have started asking for more donations and help with placing the doggie pads in the kennels at night. Many from last years effort have responded that they will try to help and a few new ones too! I try to educate that its best to make the doggie pads from a donated comforter rather than just placing the whole thing in one kennel. The doggie pads helps more than one dog at a time and reduces the amount of laundry! Also, by giving them bedding and getting them off the cold concrete, it may help their chances of getting adopted and not getting sick. For those that will not get out of there, maybe just give them a little love/comfort in their end of days …

I pray we can achieve our dream of “Every dog, has something to sleep on, every night in the shelter”.

There are so many people involved in this project and projects of their own, maybe, just maybe …

Kat

A case for spay and neutering

With millions of animals killed in US shelter every year, with millions of dogs and cats brutally poisoned and clubbed to death all over the world, here is a case for managing the natural procreative drive of animals. Rip sweet ones & mommies with puppies – you are not forgotten play free at the bridge.

A PRAYER FOR DOGS

A PRAYER FOR DOGS

Dear Lord as we start each day
There’s just one gift for which I pray
Please watch over all dogs everywhere
And Bless them with someone to care.

Watch over the pups with plenty to eat
and hungry strays out on the street
Those getting treats each time they yap
and those that struggle for every scrap.

Those that sleep on a nice soft bed
Those with hard ground under their head
Those who play with girls and boys
And those that never had any toys.

Those kept clipped and brushed and clean
And scruffy ones that don’t smell too keen
Those who get to ride in cars
And those that sit behind a cage bars.

Those that flunk obedience school
Dig up the yard snore and drool
Chew up your stuff, chase the cat
And still they’re loved in spite of that.

And those that are as good as gold
But left out to shiver in the cold
Chained up and forgotten there
They long for a warm home to share.

Please God as we end each night
Help more people do what’s right
For each dog they meet, to do their best
And send your comfort to all the rest.

~Janice Wolf

Janice - Rocky Ridge Refuge

“Maybe I can’t make a difference for all animals.
But, I can make all the difference for some of them.
If you don’t yet know of Rocky Ridge Rescue …it is worth spending a little browsing time – the calendars look good too – here is a link to the about page http://rockyridgerefuge.com/about/
I LOVE what she does ♥ – and check out the facebook page 🙂

and the “pet therapy” program

The Gift – A Case for Education

Page and information links for the life of “Koani” assembled here for all of you who love canines, domestic or wild,  and want their lives with us humans to be one of responsible, joyous coexistence.
The beautiful story “The Gift” below is taken from the Wild Sentry Newsletter #53 Spring/Summer 2007, the one titled: Koani’s Last Days. Link to the website: wildsentry.org

Koani - Image from facebook - click to go there

I am touched by the story and live of this wolf, Koani, ambassador to her species, and the way Pat Tucker and Bruce Weide changed their lives to do her justice, if such a thing was possible, to give her life meaning, her, who could never be free, and allowed themselves to be transformed in the process. Years after Koani’s death, it looks as if a movie about her live will finally be finished. Anyone loving canines and wolves, this is a story to investigate.

I am sharing the story – The Gift, by Bruce Weide –  because I think it makes a case for education. I say this in light of the issues facing all canines sharing this planet with us. You never know the effect something seen or heard will have on a young person’s live – and working in schools and with children must become commonplace for the sake of compassionate respectful and responsibly managed coexistence for canines and men.

The Gift

by Bruce Weide
I grew up knowing wolves were bad, it was part of my
family folklore, I’d seen it in movies, read it in books, and
confidently reported that “Wolves eat people” in a 4th
grade science assignment. Something changed my mind
and it happened only days before I held the life of a wolf
in the crosshairs. Before I read Leopold’s Thinking Like a
Mountain, or Lopez’s Of Wolves and Men, or Mowat’s Never
Cry Wolf, I saw a documentary, Death of a Legend. This
would’ve been 1968 and the program was ahead of its
time. I was 15 and, like Leopold, full of trigger itch. This
essay first appeared in Wild Sentry #38, Dec. 2002. I
wanted to reprint it because, as I see it, this was the first
step that led to my involvement with wolves and my time
with Koani. In addition, this is my testimonial to the
transformative power of education.

MY FINGER TIGHTENED AGAINST THE TRIGGER, and with a
bit more pressure, less than that exerted by the breath
of a hummingbird, it would’ve been a shot clean
through her heart.

I lived in Alaska shortly after the earthquake and prior to
the pipeline, in 1966. My best friend, Derek, and I knew we
could make our bloody fortunes killing wolves. The way we
saw it, we would perform a service for our country and get
rich on the $50 bounty paid for each dead wolf. I was thirteen
at the time and didn’t pay attention to wolf politics. Wolf politics didn’t exist at the time. Most people knew that wolves were bad and should be killed.

True, Adolph Murie had published his seminal monograph,
The Wolves of Mount McKinley in 1944—but, except for other
wildlife biologists, not many people read wildlife research studies. Farley Mowat’s Never Cry Wolf, published in 1963, told a new story and provided a catalyst that would help change people’s attitudes towards the wolf. But I, and many others, had yet to read the book. Most people still didn’t question the evil of wolves.

One’s point-of-view is acquired from stories that provide
the foundation for how one interprets reality. Mythologist Joseph Campbell captured the essential importance of stories when he pointed out that myths, and therefore stories, are the protective nest that humans instinctively build to protect our young. We can’t help but tell stories and from them we learn the values with which we perceive the world around us. Here’s a personal example from my family folklore.

The story tells how Grandpa escaped being eaten by a wolf.
As the story goes, one day my Grandpa, who as a boy lived on the open plains of Nebraska, was kept after school. (For being naughty? No one ever brought that up, but being
devoured by a wolf is a penalty for fairytale disobedience.) In those days, of course, everyone walked many miles to school, be it through rain, sleet, or snow. As Grandpa started his long trek home in the fading light, he noticed a wolf following him. The wolf pursued him the entire way. Only through the grace of God did Grandpa make it to the back porch door—the wolf hot on his heels with only one intention: to make Grandpa its next meal. Or so the story was told. No one ever thought about the fact that a wolf, able to run forty miles-per-hour, could’ve slaughtered Grandpa anywhere along the route home—had it truly wanted to dine on him. From what I know now, but never would’ve stopped to consider 45 years ago, is that the wolf’s behavior exhibited more curiosity than hunger.

In the fourth grade, I wrote a report about wolves in which I listed the main items in a wolf’s diet: elk, deer, cattle, sheep, and people. I possessed a firm belief that wolves presented a clear and present danger to humans.

In the fall of 1966, Derek and I and our fathers boarded the
train out of Anchorage and rode the rails north to hunt moose.
The train stopped to let people off anywhere along the route.
When you wanted to go home, you stood by the track, the train
stopped, and you climbed aboard. We disembarked at Honolulu,
an abandoned train station. We set up camp and hunted.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, as Derek and I
searched for moose, I noticed a wolf on a low ridge top, a
hundred to two hundred yards away. Actually, I don’t remember
how close the wolf was to us—this happened 36 years ago and
elements of the hunting trip have gone fuzzy or been forgotten
entirely. But the broad strokes of the story, the important details,I recall as if this pivotal event in my life occurred yesterday.

The air held the light and clarity of a brisk autumn
afternoon. I saw the wolf but said nothing to Derek. The wolf
remained on the ridge as it followed and watched us. After five minutes—maybe it was less, maybe it was more—I motioned
Derek to stop, put a finger to my lips, and pointed.
Derek’s eyes grew large and he nodded enthusiastically.
“He’s yours,” Derek whispered.

I raised the 30.06 to my shoulder. The rifle stock felt cool
against my cheek as I sighted-in through the scope. The wolf stood, its legs close together and its narrow chest fully exposed. In the chilled air the wolf’s breath floated like thin fog in the yellow light of afternoon. I set the cross hairs over the wolf’s heart. A slight breeze stirred the tawny gray fur around the wolf’s neck. I slowly exhaled and released the safety, holding a finger over the mechanism
to muffle the sound. The wolf must’ve heard the dull click because its ears perked up and its head cocked to the side. I formed my finger around the cold metal of the trigger and began to squeeze.
Through the scope, the wolf’s amber-green eyes stared at me. But the wolf’s eyes did more—and I know this will sound farfetched, especially coming from the memory of a boy only thirteen with little appreciation for wolves.
I felt as if the wolf’s eyes peered into my soul and then on
through me. I felt exposed and naked before a primal and enduring force, as if I were an inconsequential ghost that only partially obscured what really mattered.
“Take him, he’s yours,” Derek whispered, his voice tense
and urgent. “Shoot!”

The wolf stared into me. The eyes reflected intelligence
and a maturity that, at the time, I couldn’t come close to
comprehending. Much later, I would understand that the eyes,
honed by millions of years, were those of a supreme predator.
I questioned what I was about to do. My finger around
the trigger relaxed. And then tightened. And relaxed.
Why?

On a Sunday afternoon, a couple weeks earlier, I’d
watched Death of a Legend, a documentary that told a new
story about wolves and didn’t portray the animal as evil. The
program examined the wolf’s natural history and explained how
stories, fairy tales, folklore, and legends influenced our perception of the animal. But a particular scene from the documentary replayed itself in my mind’s eye that autumn afternoon as I stood with rifle poised and cross hairs targeted on the wolf’s heart.

In black and white footage, a dark wolf runs across the
snow. A group of men line up like a firing squad and open fire. Patches of snow explode around the wolf. A bullet slams into the animal and she falls. The rifles continue to fire. The wolf struggles to stand as another bullet hits her and another and another. The wolf slumps to the snow. The men continue firing. The wolf doesn’t move except when bullets cause the body to jerk in epileptic spasms. Tufts of fur burst into the air. Finally the rifles cease. The men run to the wolf. One of the men lifts the wolf ’s head for the camera. The wolf’s tongue hangs from her mouth and her eyes glaze as the men smile and congratulate each other.

I peered through the tunnel of a riflescope into the eyes of the wolf, seeing neither malevolence nor good. I saw ancient memory so deep that, like a well, the bottom remained obscured by mystery.

From the documentary "True Wolf"

I slid my finger from the trigger and lowered the rifle. “What’re you doing?” Derek hissed.
“Nothing,” I said. “You just threw away fifty dollars,” Derek hissed in a tone that clearly implied I must be crazy.
Derek raised his rifle. I held out my hand to stop him.
“He’s mine,” I said.

Thirteen-year-old males aren’t the best at articulating their
feelings. Years would pass before I found words to describe
what I felt when the wolf looked into my soul. In fact, for
many years I never spoke of the incident because, on one level, I felt foolish. But on that autumn afternoon, as the heat of the wolf’s eyes burned into my memory, I felt, as irrational as it seemed, that I’d done the only thing I could do.

Please don’t make the mistake of viewing me as someone
who thought he’d done the right thing. At the moment, I felt
guilty of committing a grave wrong. As an adolescent boy I
strived hard to display manliness and I felt as if… no, I knew
I’d compromised my manhood. Nevertheless, something led
me to the enigmatic knowledge that inaction was the only action I could take. In some unspoken manner, I must’ve communicated this to Derek. And good friend that Derek was, he didn’t question me any further.

There’s no denying that looking into the eyes of a wolf
affected me. But the real question remains, without having seen the documentary, would gazing into the wolf’s eyes have stopped my finger? So many years later, it’s a point open to debate. I believe that environmental education in the form of a wildlife documentary presented me with a gift in the form of a new story that allowed the wolf’s eyes to speak to me. I do know that the eyes of the wolf acted like a mirror that reflected my soul. Right or wrong, I didn’t want to see myself as one of those men in the firing squad. That was not the role I wished to play in the story of my life.

Click here for a summery article about how it all came about

Excellent excellent info for anyone considering owning a wolf hybrid

Video: There is a Wolf in the Classroom (original trailer ?)


Video: True Wolf – Trailer

TRUE WOLF OFFICIAL TRAILER from Rob Whitehair on Vimeo.

For the Love of Canines – Wolf Awareness Week 2011

This land belongs to you and me

To love your dog is to love wolves, for in every dog beats the heart of canis lupus.

A few days ago I found out it is National Wolf Awareness Week in the US of A. (every 3rd week in October). Not all the wolf news this year is good – though progress has been made in the last 25 years to prevent total extinction of the wild wolf.

Video I made for the ♥ of canines and wolf awareness week – fun till the end, imho 🙂

Below 2 videos showing how wolves hunt.

good sites to check www.defenders.org

http://www.wolf.org/wolves/learn/wow/

Wolves hunting

No Charge for Love

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups. And set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the

eyes of a little boy. “Mister,” he said, “I want to buy one of your puppies.”

“Well,” said the farmer, as he rubbed the

sweat of the back of  his neck, “These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money.” The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket,

he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. “I’ve got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?” “Sure,” said the farmer, and with that he let out a whistle.

Here, Dolly!” he called. Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence,the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others,doing its best to catch up….

“I want that one,” the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy’s side and said, “Son, you don’t want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would. ” With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.

Looking back up at the farmer, he said, “You see sir, I don’t run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands. ” With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy.

“How much?” asked the little boy. “No charge,” answered the farmer, “There’s no charge for love.”

— Author Unknown —

Die vierte Welt – the fourth world

Verhasst sind sie auf dieser Welt,
allein und ganz auf sich gestellt,
sind ständig wachsam auf der Hut
und leiden täglich bittere Not.

Sie finden selten Ruheplätzchen,
sind ausgehungert, krank – die Kätzchen.
Der Schlafplatz hart, ist aus Asphalt,
sie zittern, ihnen ist so kalt.

Kein friedlich Ort hier weit und breit,
ihr Blick voll Hoffnungslosigkeit.
Die Menschen sie brutal vertreiben,
kein Plätzchen, wo sie können bleiben.

Sind Wind und Wetter ausgesetzt,
sind krank und schwach, sind oft verletzt.
Die armen Tiere sich vermehren,
im Dreck sie Jungtiere gebären.

Im Winter, wenn die Kälte klirrt,
manch’ Kätzchen auf der Straße irrt.
Es hätte gern ein warmes Heim,
wär’ gern geborgen, nicht allein.

Der Duft von Braten zieht es an,
es durch die Fenster sehen kann,
wie Menschen sich am Essen laben,
ein Scheibchen für es übrig haben.

Was geht dann vor in seinem Köpfchen?
Hätt’ gerne auch ein volles Töpfchen.
Die Menschen es brutal verjagen,
es hungert sehr, ihm knurrt der Magen.

Wir Menschen sollten uns sehr schämen,
dass Tiere sich trotz Wohlstand grämen.
Wir Menschen haben volle Bäuche,
die Katzen sterben an der Seuche.

Man bettelt stets um Spendengeld
für Menschen aus der dritten Welt.
Doch wer sieht vor der eigenen Türe –
die vierte Welt – die Welt der Tiere?

Invisible Dogs to point to -> Invisible dogs

There are many ways to help – invisible dogs is one way. They did a very nice campaign October 8. You got any ideas of how to help?
Invisible dogs – supercute video

Did you see me today?

As you rushed past to the kennel with the five darling little pups –

seven people already there, rescues lined up to save –
Did you see me today?

Did you see my eyes filled with hurt and torture –
ten years of neglect and pain

from my life in the back yard, on a chain…
Did you see me today?

Did you hear the cries my heart made?

Three days ago was my tenth birthday and almost ten years ago

I was in that same kennel you rushed to today.

I was a darling little puppy that everyone wanted…

that got too big, too fast…and was sent to live on a chain in the backyard –

too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer,
barely a kind word spoken…

I begged for attention that never came,got tossed food most days,

begged for just a drink of water on too hot days,
my throat parched and hurting.

My dirty matted coat my only protection from the heat and cold, rain and snow
ALWAYS NEEDING
No one saw me then either.

Then I got too messy, my cries for attention too loud …

I just got too damn old.
No one saw me, and they brought me here to die.

That kennel you rushed to had six puppies then…

They dropped me off and took one from there

to fill my spot on that rusty chain in the backyard,

And I wonder… who is worse off – me or him?

I still have so much love in my heart, so much to share…
Did you see me today?

For a brief moment you stopped, and I thought our eyes met.

Was the smell of helpless death too strong for you,
my pleas for help too loud?

Did you see me today?
Will you go home, close your eyes in slumber

and recall the haunting look I gave…
Will you recall what was not seen today?

With the sunrise will you rush back to see?
I will not be here then.

Today, when the doors are locked
I will never be seen again…

Did you see me today?
(Written By: Beth McDuffie)

Homer, 10 y old GSD mix - PTS RIP or better - run free

Invisible dogs campaign

Becoming an activist? Is that what it is called?

You can’t push a river.  You can’t change anyone else. The Earth is being driven to it’s knees, and all it’s living things with them – by what? Are you supposed to do anything? We invite you to invite the answer into your life.

DARE TO FEEL

Knowing something in your head – that’s a start – You can even have opinions, agree or disagree with something. Once you are feelingly awake to a certain reality – including that of suffering of sentient beings all around you – you start acting – not necessarily out of want, but just because something needs to be done, just because it is the right thing to do…not because someone says so or because the rules dictate. There comes a time when denial is no longer an option – when you dare to look long enough that you feel it all.

It takes your soul’s agreement for your heart to be broken open. It takes courage.

When your heart is open, you don’t just feel the good stuff…. ….. but when it is closed, you don’t feel at all. All you can do is mechanics,  obey a law, decide with your head. Many hearts are closed because of pain experienced that was too much to bear for the baby or young child. Defenses protect against overwhelming pain. When hearts don’t feel, people can be cruel, sometimes beyond reach. Sometimes it is cultural numbness. When you are angry beyond belief at injustice and cruelty done to innocent beings – to the point you just want to kill someone – try imagining the perpetrators as little children – never getting the chance to learn any different.  Your anger is fuel, is energy to act on behalf of those who suffer….and might be wasted directed at a person who does not know any better. The stronger force is deeper – even deeper than pain – and I don’t really have words for it —- after you are all broken down in the face of such unspeakable suffering …. there is a core of softness, love, tenderness humble offering of help and you realize what needs to be done and you start doing it. And when action wants to happen – allow it….

When you have the capacity to feel more – and more – and stay present ….. then you might  start doing things that look like activism….and for all practical purposes, it may be so….it just happens. For you – it might look like something else.

So it looks like I am becoming an activist….after all these years.

It looks like there is a lot of extra work to do and things to learn. This might have to include learning new skills, like social skills 🙂  – but for the sake of the dogs of this world, for the sake of alleviating suffering of the animals of this planet, I am willing to give it my best.

I invite you to feel a little more of the suffering of animals, to not turn your eyes away and allow empathy do do it’s job, because it accurately lets you perceive something important – stay present with it – be aware of what wants to happen inside you, like watering eyes, knot in stomach, aching in the chest, fidgeting as if you want to turn away….things like that. You will grow beyond your self, your friends and family, your own little life. You won’t become militant or violent, but soft and strong – and action will flow from you. It will be practical, fueled by necessity greater than yourself.

It is not that you cannot do good without feeling it all …..it is the compassion for all sentient beings – universal love that goes beyond …..

Give Love a chance.

What is your calling? What is your answer? What will YOU do in YOUR life?

What is your answer

Can you hear the call? The one for you?

It matters not what it is…but in these desperate times on Earth, it won’t be vegetating on the couch watching TV, or meditating in a remote cave for the rest of your life.

So there is the Great Void, the Clear Light, Heaven and G-d – and then there is – this here … wherever you are in the manifested Universe. And there is does matter, everything matters, everything has an effect. …and who’s to say the great void does not evolve after all – but if nothing else, if more of us wake up to feel it all, there need not be so much unconscious suffering.

Dare to feel, dare to allow your nervous system to do it’s job – and through empathy realize you are not separate from those out there – you might just realize for yourself that it is true – that what you have done to the least of my breathen, you have done to….yourself.

JUST SAY NO TO APATHY – gxxaxx

 

All dogs deserve a home, all wild K9s to be free