thursday 12 november 2009

Page Thirty-nine


Wandering. If anyone’s  interested in getting a sense of how much I’ve wandered (physically, emotionally, psychologically) over the 20 months since my whole world was taken from me, you’d need to do a little wandering of your own in my other journals. You can click here to page one of the website, where there are links to the other blogs.

And I’m still wandering, but in a much narrower way. I don’t move from town to town anymore, and I don’t pay much attention to the present moment anymore. I wander through the past, because it’s all that holds any magic for me, any of my former self.

With a bit of an exception: Shiloh-Chailin. She’s almost two weeks with me now, almost seven weeks old, and in that short time I have been very sick twice. She’s getting a trial by fire. All of my animals for many years had to learn about mommy and sickness. I am often sick, and it’s usually severe, because of the anomalous immune system I was born with. Well, they learned about mommy and sickness: dogs, cats, birds, rabbits, guinea pigs, they learned. They were instinctively patient and kind when I was sick, and almost always on their best behavior. So little Shiloh-Chailin is learning now too. I have to come into the present moment from time to time for her. It is wonderful having an animal again: living without any was too selfish, too meaningless, too joyless and loveless. But it’s terrible too: after 20 months being animal-less for the first time in my life, and in shock, and frozen, and devastated, she is melting all that frozenness and bringing back the sight and sound and feel of all my other animals, and the things we did together. And that pain, that huge pain over the 14 who were stolen, is coming over me in a flood.

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