Dear God/ess, Today I am thinking of the Joy of Old Dogs. Puppies are delightful, too, but often cause chaos and havoc in their rambunctious wake.

Then, if they live to be 3 years old, you have a wise sage just waiting to awaken. Ulysses was more of a quiet soul through his life, except when on a lead. I remember well the lead pulling and the resultant tear of the rotator cuff ala left shoulder.

I will always remember Mukunda  chasing 4 sheep up our lane and I feared, into the eye of fast oncoming traffic. Instead they veered left and ran along the grass to the golf course a mile away.

I was able to coax he sheep back to the house with a bowl of corn, but Mukunda was no where to be found.

When he returned an hour later, with a soulful guilt laden expression, I hugged him, welcoming him back to the herd, for that is what all of us were to this part Australian Shepard, part Golden Retriever.

Now that Ulysses is in his senior wisdom years, I love being in his quiet presence. The whisper of a breeze, the caw of the Crow, the dark clouds before a storm--all of these and more are noticed clearly with an old dog around.

Life is real in his etheric aura.

Om Peace Amen

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Kate Loving And The Collective Wisdom
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