I'm Sorry, Spider

I wept today.

I am learning to meditate. I suck at it. I suppose I will for a while. But in some other-worldy way I think I made progress. I was in a guided meditation group this evening. I was as relaxed as I could be. I was taken to a point where my loved ones are supposed to meet me. And just like last time... there were only animals. I'm not clear on how this is supposed to work... well, I have an idea. But I'm pretty fuzzy. The last time I got to this point the animlas that greeted me were my loyal compadres, Tibet, Pete, & Talbot. Today, they were there again, but also Katie showed up. Katie is the cat I had until a few years ago. Talbot never knew Katie, but Tibet & Pete did. During this visit something occured to me.

I asked myself, why are there no people? I started looking around for my grandparents. I kind of felt like my grandfather was around, or at least his influence. And suddenly I became very sad. I felt alone. I shouldn't have, but I did. My friends were there. My dogs, my last cat. My current cat, Goliath, must still be out chasing birds or something. He hasn't been around yet.
So I was wondering why I had living and dead animals there.

But then, my brain working the way it does, started analyzing. That's what I do. I analyze. They say half of analysis is anal anyway. :-)

I wasn't alone, but I felt it. Then I realized people were missing and that means something. And I think I know. So I became sad and wept.

Then came the point where my "guide" takes me to another place to meet my teacher while my loved ones waited for me at the safe place. Hmm, trouble was, there was no guide. It was my intuition telling me to go over there. So I went. I don't know if I was in the right place, but I didn't perceive any other paths. There was no teacher. There was a pool of water. I peered into the pool. I thought of the scene in LOTR where Frodo looks into the well and sees the past, present, and what has not yet come to pass. No, I didn't see Frodo or Sauron or orcs ravaging the countryside. I saw the shimmering surface of a pool that didn't reflect anything, nor did it reveal anything beneath the surface.

What was I supposed to think. I was really alone. So there goes my brain.... I'm alone because I don't let anyone in or I'm alone because there is still something I'm supposed to figure out before my guide and teacher are revealed. Or I'm alone b/c I am my own teacher (is that arrogant or what?). Hey, I can't control these ideas any more than I can control my emotions.

I was so consumed with these thoughts I lost contact w/ the group facilitator. I came out of my state to find tears pooled in my eyes and as I blinked they were squeezed out. I glanced around (I know, I cheated) and saw the others still in their places. I tried to get back and managed to find myself leaving the pool. But still alone and I felt a pang of sadness that excited my ducts again and more elixer of salty sadness dripped out onto my cheek.

My sinuses followed and for a brief moment I had to breath through my mouth. I lost focus.
I tried to get back to my safe place right about the same time the facilitator brought us back there. But this time there was something different. A totem was there with my loved ones. I was surprised, for this was new to me. What appeared actually made me feel a little better, but in the same instant I grew sad again, even more than before. This (what I'm assuming to be one of my totems) was a spider. What made me sad is the flash of memory that came to me where I mistreated a spider once as a kid. I remember it so vividly. This is one of those haunting memories that I never escape. I don't think I am meant to escape it. I actually want to keep it b/c it reminds me of what "humanity" has done our mother Earth and her children....

I remember what I did.....

I was living in El Paso. I was about 7 or 8 years old. I spent a lot of time outside as a kid. There is this mountain range running through El Paso, the Franklin Mountains. We lived close to the foothills. I would roam around these hills quite a bit and explore. This one particular day another boy & I were doing just that. We were crossing this fairly wide drainage ditch and half way across we enountered a tarantula. We freaked and bolted to the other side. So this kid and I started throwing rocks at it from a distance. This is when I regret having a good aim. We must have hurled about 30 rocks at this spider. Poor thing, it was so exposed in the middle of the concrete ditch and it was getting pelted by stones whichever direction it tried to run. First it would tumble once or twice when we hit it. Soon a leg fell off, then another and before too long it was motionless with only 2 or 3 of its legs attached. The others were scattered. A couple of the legs were torn in two. The other boy and I celebrated. We were real heroes. We vanquished the evil master of terror! I was just a kid. A stupid, pudgy little kid with a good arm.

That event is a conerstone in my memory bank as a life changing event. It didn 't change my life then. But it did later. If that was supposed to be some sacrifice for me to learn the value of life and all Earth's creatures (except mosquitos... hey, gotta draw the line somewhere) then its a crappy lesson. It hurts me still. I still weep when I think of that spider.

So is this why the spider appeared to me? Is this a message? Is this the spider telling me that "Hey, kid. You were young and stupid, but you are the better for it now." I don't know but I sure hope so. Because, truthfully, I'm an advocate for spiders now. I have been for many years. I think they, like snakes, have endured despite being so wrongfully maligned for so many centuries. Some lessons hurt.

I'm sorry Spider. I won't do it again. I promise.

Sorry about the delay :-)

Hey all.  I finally got around to finishing Talbot's Tale.  I'm sorry it took so long.  It was more than a week ago that I presented the third installment.  I had family come in from out of town, and I spent the weekend at the beach.  More on that next time.  But for now... check out the last chapter of Talbot's Tale.  Thanks again for visiting!  It means a lot to me!

Have a great day!

Be well

Stephan

Talbot's Tale: Family

You have seen the improvement thus far.  He has come quite along quite nicely, wouldn't you say?  He was actually looking forward to meals now.  He was excited to see me or the other dogs, although he wasn't able to socialize until around mid December.  Looking back at previous posts, I realized that I said Talbot was quarantined until January.  Well, to be more precise... he was still in the crate until January, but already socializing.  Sorry about the mix up.

It was at this point that I started to look for a home for Talbot.  I spread the word.  My search began in earnest once Talbot had no more bald patches.  He walked around with a perpetual smile.  He was crate trained and potty trained and (to this day) had no "accidents" in the house.  He was ready to go to a good home.

Here, take a look... would you be interested?

Irresistible, huh!  I mean come on!

Who wouldn't want to take this guy home.

His tail was a virtual perpetual motion machine when people were around.  He got along great with other dogs.  Get him now while he is young, I said.  

I brought the crate inside, but not before giving it a thorough scrubbing, thrice!

I thought about burning a box of incense in there, but as it turned out it wasn't necessary.  If you ever need to get the smell of mange out of a crate, use bleach... lots of bleach.  And be sure to be in a well ventilated area outside.  And please wear goggles and a respirator.  I figured that out the hard way.  So in cleaning the crate, I looked something like this....

Ok, so I didn't actually wear the hat, but I thought it would be cool for effect!  And that towel thingy on my scalp... yeah, I didn't actually wear that either.  :-)

But I digress.

So I get the crate all cleaned up.  After much deliberation I put it in the living room.  I was expecting a real yelp-fest that first night.  

It started right on cue.... 90 seconds after "lights out".  The scratching of the wall, the high pitched yelping which in human translates to "Hey moron, you forgot about me in here!  Hey you.... yeah you I don't wanna be in here!."  After a few stanzas of the canine lament, he changes strategy.  He goes from the "I'm a pathetic wretch"  whimpering, to the "Calling all Canines" to the rescue approach.  Something between a bark and short howl in a pitch just high enough to let all dogs from here to Toronto know that a puppy is desperately needing aid.

So here I am, in my bed, listening to this.  Despite expecting this to happen, I'm still annoyed. Tibet & Pete didn't budge.  Pete slept.  How the hell he could sleep through this racket I will never know, but he slept.  You won't be seeing Pete on the cover of "Rescue Dogs Today" anytime soon.  Tibet, on the other hand, lay there with her jaw on her front paws and her eyes fixed on me.  Uh-huh... yeah you know the look.  Its the same look a dog gives you right before he goes to pee on the rug... the "If you don 't do something about this..." look.

I told her to be expecting this.  She finally sighed and rolled to her side and tried to sleep, but just couldn't.  Pete, on the other hand, was probably chasing rabbits or something.  He was gone.  His paws would twitch every so often, but he didn't wake up.

Too bad, Talbot.  No dogs are coming to your rescue tonight.  I'm not sure how long it took for Talbot to give up, but it really wasn't so bad.  He quit after about 15 minutes.  Seriously, all that drama was in a short amount of time.  (Thankfully!)  So I was impressed. (still annoyed)

Talbot continued the routine the next night, but by the 3rd night, he was quiet after about 15 seconds of pawing at the gate.  I thought he would be mad at me in the mornings, but he wasn't.  He was Talbot.  He was happy to see me. His tail was wagging and he was smiling.  He greeted me first then went to Pete & Tibet.  They all went outside and did their business.  That in itself was kind of amusing.  Maybe one day I'll tell you guys about Brazos, the "Crap eater" as I called him.  Yeah, he was a character... but that's another story.  Back to Talbot...

So he was getting along with Pete & Tibet.  I started taking them on walks.  I was thinking about how easy it would be to find this guy a home.  He's potty trained, gets along well with others, leash trained.  Not to mention he was cute as hell.  Just look above again... see what I mean?  Who wouldn't?  Right...? Well..... not so fast, Speed Racer!

The first time I had friends come over while Talbot was in he house he freaked.  I was not ready for this.  My mother made regular visits.  Remember that she was there from day one... well, two actually... but you get the point.  So he was cool with her.  But not so cool with new people.

Oh boy.  Problem.

Damn! I thought.  He was doing so well.  And he was.  There was a hitch, though.  Call it the fine print.  He was horribly afraid of new people or dogs.  I thought of what he looked like when I found him and rapidly came to the conclusion that he was that way b/c of people in the first place.  Now what?  

So begins the slow process of socializing.  This created a problem when it came to finding a home for him.  I'm cynical by nature.  I half expect things to go wrong.  And unless I'm totally convinced that someone could provide the right home environment for this guy, I wasn't handing him over.  I had to be sure. Especially after all we endured and what he's been through.  Poor guy.  He needed structure and love.  It didn't really strike me at the time... but he was getting that at my house.  That is why he was doing well at home.  Hindsight is always 20/20.

I did what I could to take him out and have more friends come over.  He did improve.  In fact, just recently, when I went to the VHPA reunion,  I had a friend help me out by feeding my critters in my absence.  Chris had never been to my house before.  So a few days before my trip, Chris came by to meet the kids and learn where everything is.  Of course Talbot was nervous, but even to my surprise, he had his head on Chris's lap inside of 20 minutes.  Progress!

Of course Talbot is 3 years old now and has been exposed to numerous animals and people.  He still requires caution, but he is soooooo much better.  Much less nervous around strangers.   Some new dogs he hardly notices.

Well, in case you haven't noticed the obvious here, I kept him.   Yeah, yeah, people who know me say they saw it coming.  Despite my efforts, I kept the rascal.  My mother put a flyer up at the athletic club, I placed an ad in the paper.  I send out emails with pictures at the office to about 200 people.  I really tried.  But for those who believe in fate or providence, here is a story that supports your belief.  :-)  It isn't a bad thing.  He is a good dog.

So, my friends.  Once again I come to the end of a tale... Talbot's Tale.  And now I bid you a fond adieu with some parting shots.... here you go, folks....

Presenting Talbot: Family