his household includes a dog, an empath. I learned to open my heart to this one and all others.

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I evolved I'm happy to say. This mutt is someone else's fur baby. However, in the short time we got to know each other, I am grateful for the time we did.

Dog Speak

He attempts to speak. I say to him,"How are you?" I hear, "Rowlllrrrruuu." He humphfs, he barks.He makes high pitch sounds. He attempts to make sounds like us. He climbs into the lap of a once independent woman, one who must rely on the support  of others and sniffs towards her face to kiss her.  He makes her laugh - long and hard! He brings her  a tremendous amount of joy, when he is allowed to. Other times, he is ushered out of her room prior to his inspections.  

He comes into the space I occupy when the others argue. He plops touching my body. I rub his coat and he may open his belly for more attention. I rub slowly and see his breathing slow down. He hardly goes out. His waste is deposited on pee pads at different places. The owner repeatedly says, "I never intended this."  It's been almost three years.  When I put on his harness, he knows what time it is. Outside on a leash, he yelps as if he's hurt.  I walk until he is tired after sniffing under all bushes, lifting to pee on every post even when there is nothing to deposit. He expresses his gratitude with kisses.

I sensed his body was dis-eased. I set to change it with energy. He laid down in receiving mode. I used to sit in a reclining chair. He'd jump onto my lap and sit with his back to me. I used to energize him.  He's leap off when he's had enough. Recently, I stroked him as I said repeatedly. I shall miss you." I noticed my hands landed on his back less gently than usual. He jumped down, nibbled at his food, shook his coat and looked back at me.He then turned and walked away.  I watched as his furry butt turned the corner.

Dog on Tortola

All dogs have the ability to sense what we feel and how well they do it depends on how they are treated. The first house my husband rented in the British Virgin Islands was adjacent to property that the renter's brother lived on. He had a gorgeous, affectionate puppy that burrowed under the fence and ran to me.  I looked into his eyes, petted him and handed him to this brother. He promptly beat him. 

My husband attached bells to the gate of a four foot high wire fence.  He did it because cows, when they want to, can jump them.  Before the bells, one did to get to the grass on the property and we didn't know it.  I heard the police car approaching and the bells rung. The police searched the property and found no one. Before the police arrived for the third time, I heard the bells. The cops searched.They found nothing.  They drove off. The engine faded into the distance. Then I heard the bells again. I knew where this creep was hiding.

The next morning was bright and warm with wonderful light sea breezes. One of the police came out to see how I was doing.  I thanked him for that and shared with him what I realized after they left. His reaction showed that neither of them thought about it.

Later the owner came by because he knew that I was alone.  

He listened to my night experience. He showed no reaction to my story.  He only said he would look into it. His coolness told me he knew who it was.The only other soul that lived that close to us, that knew the property to evade the police was his brother, the one who beat the dog. At the corner was a concrete enclosure to house the meters that was deep enough to hide in.  To get into it, one had to squeeze between the wire fence and the side of the enclosure, causing the bells to ring. We left that house and moved to an adjacent property. The dog was later used to guard the house we occupied.  I would look at the dog on the veranda as I passed, staring straight at me. No panting, no blinking with the sun making the eyes look like sharp points of light.

I did not bother him because I did nothing to save him. 

Dog in the Cloudscape

Several years later after we moved to Orangeburg, South Carolina I got into looking at clouds and capturing incredible shapes. In 2012, I photographed a dog.  His ears were vibrant as was his paws and tail.  It reminded me of "Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash" by Giacomo Balla (1912) . 

The message I received was, "I bring you boundless joy!"

I outlined the face and ears. My nephew could not see his face until I pointed out the nose to give him one clue.

PJ was heralded that day, four years before I met him.

In the 1980s, several New Yorkers whose dogs were entrusted to a funeral home were angry over the fact that their dogs' remains were not handled properly. I thought they were nuts. After all, they were just dogs.

Through the following years, there were incredible occurrences of dogs running into me from across a walkway or a street, owners apologizing but the dogs didn't. They touched me, rubbed against my leg and kept going.  I ran when a small dog barked at me. The owner said to me to never do that. I always saw teeth, barking, lunging animals, in particular, during the civil rights demonstrations.  Police used dogs to attack Black people. I was a single digit then but decades later, that was what I remembered.


I love dogs!!!

I love them!  I am excited about finding my place to get my own! Or two!

People who love dogs are not nuts. People who use dogs to hurt others out of spite or power are.

They are amazing. I'm laughing as I write this. Meditating with them, providing energy for them, is amazing.  Their trust of people is something. When I released what I thought their behavior would be, all things changed. One must discern possibilities with ones that are abused.  All dogs look like PJ. 










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Now That Your Eyes Are Open

Looking West on Drake's Highway, Tortola towards the Caribbean Sea by Allison L. Williams Hill

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