Hudson Valley Astrologer

“Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.”

Dauphin in Henry V, Act 2, Scene 4, Shakespeare

People who have pets, have soulfulness. There can be a profound connection, an understanding, unconscious or otherwise, that sometimes recognizes soul through it form.

On a previous post I wrote about being a “dog person.” This is true! I think what I would most like my dog to understand is that I am aware of her form, her soul. That I see her, and by doing seeing her, I better see myself.

But the funny thing is that I think she already “knows” this, according to her nature, and sees our relationship in a way that honors our connection. In fact, the entire purpose for owning a pet , at least for me, might simply be “to catch up” to her, in a sense, which is to say that, according to my nature, I need to learn to honor my role in the relationship: seeing the form of her soulfulness.

Each creature belongs on this earth to thrive, according to their nature. Dogs are not people but they can bring out in us a greater capacity to be human. Pets can be a lot of work, dogs in particular, and there is much more for us, as humans, to learn about ourselves in caring for a dog than there is for them to learn or come to understand about us.

A dog, or at least my dog, is wrapped tight in her nature and therefore will only understand the world from her Labrador perspective. Granted, our black Labrador is of a much different nature than the black walnut tree guarding the corner of the yard, where we buried our previous pet, also a black Labrador. But notice, if you will, how our dogs are of a different nature say from birds, cardinals in particular come to mind at the moment, sightings which have been in abundance since my sister passed this time last year. The black walnut and cardinal, sometimes sit together soulfully in the yard, precisely because they are unavoidably and always in their own nature. The tree and the bird are exactly who they are, and who they are supposed to be. So is my Labrador. People on the other hand are as distinct from their dogs as a bird is distinct from a tree, and for that matter as distinct as a dog is from a bird. “You can’t put wings on a pig,” my high school coach would say, somewhat ignorantly about a player without athletic ability. Although he meant it in a derogatory way, there is also some truth to his lament. Each of us acts within our own nature, and as much as we try, it cannot be otherwise.

People, however, contrary to their nature, are not always who they are supposed to be. We can get our wires crossed, get off track, and struggle internally, even when everything is fine. But sometimes the internal struggle is in response to external situations, or stimulus: Divorce, death of a loved one, unemployment, or God forbid being involved in war (like many who share our planet, even though many of us woke up today in a quieter and safe place).

Dogs are not people! But as companions they draw out and satiate personal emotional needs in us, to feel needed, lovable, and worthy. It is interesting how people often think, “oh, I really love my dog.” But it is the act of loving that works itself around, and makes us feel lovable; which is the point of loving.

The black walnut is rooted by her nature to mark the boundary of our yard, between here and there, demarcating where we live from the outside. But she also demarcates what is below from what is above. She stands strong above it all, but clings to the soil beneath her, much in the way the stars cling to the firmament above. She holds our other dog, the past, in her lap. She is immovable, except for the season when she lets go of her leaves and her hardened, heavy fruit, the black walnuts.

Suddenly, my dog’s head and ears perk up, she instinctively looks over toward the sound, black walnuts intermittently hit the ground with a loud thump! thump! thump!But in a syncopated way that doesn’t follow the beat. Like some school aged kid is playing a prank, and throwing them over at us from some hidden place on the school yard. She stares, and growls in a low concentrated voice as if to say, “who’s there?”

Simultaneously, a cardinal lands on a limb, according to her nature, bringing a message. Her song is on an altogether different level from the best of the tree. My dog, “a bird dog,” doesn’t even notice.

As it happened, I was talking about my sister who passed and just as I mentioned her name, the big beautiful cardinal came in for a landing, out of nowhere, to pay me a visit. Our eyes met. A ghostly spirit shine from behind two flames of light or what appeared to me to be two avian portholes through which she spoke volumes without saying one word. Somehow this sentient creature spoke to me, in a synchronistic way. She knew. She came to confirm that this was a good conversation we were having just now about my sister. Even the parts of the conversation left unsaid were important and meaningful. “Yes!” She said, lowering the crown of her head. She, according to her nature, affirmed heartfelt emotions, for being and belonging, that coalesced and organized into a candle vigil in my sister’s honor, on the first anniversary of her death. The cardinal alighted from the branch and swooped down past the me and the dog in an aerial display of joyful existence as the discussion about our plans for a vigil concluded. Just like that, as in life, ‘she’ was gone again.

My dog will likely leave this world before I do, like the 5 other dogs before her. After her death, the one under the black walnut tree came back to me in a dream. Her fur was blacker and shiner than obsidian, regally posing on the white comforter as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. She came back for a visit. Her eyes were intense, like the cardinal’s eyes, and had this to say, “THANK YOU!”

“What?” I asked, “For what?” It honestly wasn’t easy putting her down. This after a year of carrying her in and out of the house, all 90 pounds of her dogness, up and down the stoop, numerous times a day, so that she could take care of business. When I finally woke up from the dream I thought, “huh! That was beautiful !!” She was letting me know that it was okay, not that I took care of her, but that I let something matter in this world! That is mattered so much that I could care. After all is said and done any expression of caring is an expression of self-care, a way of showing the universe that we too are lovable.

This is what I hope my dog understands, that she has helped see her, and by seeing her, she has helped me care.

HVA

💚🍀