The Coat
Animal Story, Blog, Cats, Seen Thru New Eyes | January 12, 2010
I always wanted a lynx coat until I met a lynx! Mr. Pinkerton, the Earthfire Institute lynx and Philbin, an advisory circle member.
A Two-Wolf New Year’s Eve
Animal Story, Blog, Wolves | January 7, 2010
Pathetic Cucumber
Little White Girl had been in the house two days. Because of space (our cabin living room/dining room/office/infirmary is 12 by 18 feet) that meant Cucumber had to be ousted as we weren’t sure if the two would be aggressive and Little White Girl needed peace for recovery. We at least brought Cucumber in for her dinner and breakfast so she wouldn’t feel totally abandoned. The first morning she was not her usual self — instead of bounding into the cabin and wolfing down her food, she walked in haltingly, eating with lack-luster. The second morning she barely dragged herself into the cabin with tiny little halting steps, her back legs almost collapsing beneath her. Her eyes were bleary and she looked as if she had aged 20 years. Because of her history I called the vet, worrying that something had gone wrong with her stomach again — perhaps she had a twisted bowel? She looked awful. Words simply cannot convey how pathetic she was.
The vet was unavailable until the morning so we rearranged the living room, brought in a second cage, blocked the two cages from sight of one another, and brought Cucumber in for the night, for warmth and observation. We didn’t get much sleep with all the worrying and tumult. Little White Girl couldn’t make it through the night and had to be walked past Cucumber to get to the door for a 3 AM walk. Cucumber, knowing exactly what was happening even though she couldn’t see it, got agitated, which meant she too had to go out. Talkeetna, our malamute, locked in the bedroom, carried on mightily when she heard the two intruders in the living room getting special attention, and demanded to go out — but we had to wait until first Little White Girl, then Cucumber were finished, locked back in their cages, blocked from each other, and then Little White Girl blocked from sight as we had to take Talkeetna within inches of her cage to get to the cabin door.
In the morning we staggered up wearily to check on Cucumber. She looked up at us with bright eyes and danced on her back legs with impatience for her breakfast which she wolfed down. She looked 20 years younger, all signs of pain and trauma and gone. We were beaten once again. And what was a two-wolf New Year’s Eve, is now turning into a two-wolf January.
Sharing Animal Love
Blog, Wellness & Spirtuality | January 6, 2010
At an informal retreat, we were discussing how profoundly animals we love have reached us deep inside, changed us, opened us. One woman talked about how devastating the impending loss of her dog was going to be for her. At age 50 she had for the first time allowed herself to unfreeze, to love. Because of this gift she was able to move on to satisfying human relationships and even more so, to a relationship with her self. Others with families and children who also deeply loved their pets voiced the same sentiment — of how much their pets gave them, how wrenching the goodbye. We wondered together just what it was that made what an animal gives so rich and deep and readily accepted; what is it, that an animal has the capacity to unlock fearful and frozen hearts. We know it happens but how — I have yet to find any really satisfying answers. Maybe it can’t be explained or understood except by the heart. Please share your thoughts and comments.
Never Trust a Lonely Wolf
Blog, Wolves | December 29, 2009
The day before Christmas we did an urgent operation on Little White Girl (a Large white wolf but when we got her she was little). She had been rapidly losing weight. It was supposed to be 10 below the next few days. It was major surgery, her abdomen was shaved and she had 20 metal staples in her belly, so we brought her in the warm cabin to heal. We spent a reasonably peaceful couple of days and nights. She sucked up all the love and attention and homemade chicken soup made just for her, fed every two hours. She emanated contentment. She lay quietly next to us during our eggnog and Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners, enjoying the companionship and the warmth. She adjusted so easily to the house life that we let our guard down. The third morning we went to visit some friends for an hour, bringing our dogs with us, leaving her alone to rest, we thought. We returned and opened the door upon wolf devastation. She was still in her large cage but in her attempt to get out of it had somehow maneuvered it across the living room floor, completely pushed out the sliding bottom insert upon which she had been standing, pulled up all the metal framing underneath it, pulled off the table cloth that we had laid across the top of the cage over a large piece of plywood to serve as our Christmas area, pulled off the Christmas tree; scattered the 750 pieces of a puzzle we had been assembling all over the cabin (how I don’t know, as she was still in fact in the cage). Fortunately Jean, wise in wolfly ways, had double chained it with big clips in addition to the locks that came with it. Water had been widely splashed across the room As we entered she put her ears down and whined and wagged and greeted us with several minutes of pure ecstasy. Pure happiness. We petted and she pushed hard against our hands, eyes closed. She circled a few times, gave a grunt of satisfaction, and lay down to relax. We were back. Wolves are creatures of very intense family feelings and a good deal of vitality and ingenuity with which to express them. Never abandon a wolf.
The Importance of the Y2Y Wildlife Cooridor
Blog, Deep Ecology, Ethics & Whole Community | December 29, 2009
Yukon biologist and professor discusses the importance of preserving the Yellowstone to Yukon Wildlife Corridor with Susan Eirich of Earthfire Institute.
Speedy the Paragliding Snail
Blog, Seen Thru New Eyes | December 21, 2009
For a short while I took a job in a cubicle with only a small high window I couldn’t see out of. Nothing alive or natural around me. It drove me crazy. So I got a goldfish. I got a plant for the goldfish and with the plant, unexpectedly, came a small brown snail. As I watched the goldfish I began to notice the snail. Up he would glide; up the side of the bowl. Then he would lengthen his foot and launch himself across the water upside down just under the water line, moving smoothly, with grace. Once in the middle of the bowl he would suddenly pull in his foot and glide gently down to the bottom like a version of a paraglider under water. Back over the gravel he went, to the side of the bowl, up, across the water, and do it again. And again. And again. And again. He would rest for a while, begin another series. I called him Speedy, he was so very fast and active. I quite fell in love with a snail. When I called people on the phone I would describe what he was doing- he was an important part of the conversation. People would even ask me about him. He had personality. Of course I don’t know for sure, but it certainly seemed that he was just expressing the joy of being alive, of movement. There was something about the way he let go and glided to the bottom that just seemed to emanate snail joy. Buffalo glide on ice. Bears and wolves slide down snowfields for the fun of it. Why not snails doing the equivalent in their environment? Being alive is a joy.
A Peaceful Passing
Animal Story, Blog, Wolves | December 18, 2009
The chance to die peacefully, in our own time, is not granted to every being.
Stardance stayed with us for five days, lying quietly on the living room floor, moving only to reach water. She seemed at peace. Every now and then she would look up, fully alert and intelligent, then sink back down to rest position. We offered her food, treats, homemade chicken soup. She would take some a few laps of the soup but actively sought the water, drinking with some vigor. It reminded me of a story I read of an old grandfather in Appalachia who one day decided he was ready to die. He lay in his bed attended by his loving family, refusing all food, drinking only water, as he slowly, peacefully, slipped away. Most of the time she did not seem to be with us but every now and then, right to the end, she would look up, eyes bright with intelligence.
The evening of the fifth day I caressed her and lay down next to her to sleep. She had still had those moments of alertness all day. I awoke four hours later to find she had left her body, probably just after I had fallen asleep. She had been such a strong presence in our living room, it somehow did not feel right to bury her immediately, as if part of her had not yet gone. We honored her body and buried her the next day in our graveyard, where all the Earthfire animals are buried. Whatever one makes of it, to all appearances she her face looked as if she were laughing for joy.
While I personally am on the conservative side on these things, I know there is more going on than I understand, so I consulted with Penelope Smith, the founder of the interspecies communication movement. She has dealt with thousands of animal passings. She wrote “Stardance went peacefully. She is grateful for the expansion of her passage allowed by the natural death. She tells me that she spent two days before her departure with the Great Wolf Council, going over her life and all the wisdom she encompassed. When it was her time to go she was embraced by the Elder Spirits and went in grace, peace and light.”
For those to whom it may bring peace, she has written a book called Animals in Spirit, Our faithful companions’ transition to the afterlife.
A Sense of the Important
Blog, Deep Ecology, Ethics & Whole Community | December 17, 2009
Arianna Huffington says she started because the mainstream media wasn’t picking up on the really important stories — they didn’t seem to have a sense of the important. Often overlooked are the less flashy, less immediate, but critical underpinnings of all we do, such as values and world view. These drive all our actions. Not very sexy or fundable but it is absolutely vital that those things be examined and taught consciously in our society. Our often unexamined, fundamental beliefs lead to many of the very specific problems we deal with such a deforestation, pollution, desertification, etc. One of these fundamentals is how we look at ourselves in relation to other living beings — if animals were considered as living beings in their own right, part of the fabric of life, sentient beings; we would not have factory farms unhealthy for us as well as cruel to the animals; we would not grab habitat for huge second homes and developments wasteful of the land; we would think twice before building yet another road in the forest or blacktop more living land for malls and parking lots – we would stop the mindless drive for expansion. Our entire societal structure would be different. We are starting to realize the necessity of this as the current administration tries to move to a green economy for practical reasons – very worthwhile. But it would be more sustainable, would happen sooner, and be easier and more pleasurable if we did it from a sense of our job as stewards of the earth and from a sense of the sacred. Earthfire works to contribute to the sense of the sacredness of all life and the sense that we are truly one community. What we do to any living being, either good or bad, in some way affects us all.
- Untrammeled Wilderness in the Yellowstone to Yukon Wildlife Cooridor
Fur Farm Fox Ages Well
Animal Story, Blog, Foxes | December 16, 2009
Feather; rescued fur-farm fox, is nearly 11 years old. She is a loving, squiggling vibrant bundle of luscious red fur, bright eyes, mischief, intense emotions, curiosity, intelligence and acrobatic grace, one of the miracles of life on this earth. The average life-span for a fox in a fur farm is 1-2 years. She is a single living testament to the lives of all the foxes who were not rescued – what they might have been. Lives they might have lived. Eleven years of loving and living and the joy of being in an astounding body that is a fox. To bring them into this world to live in a tiny mesh cage; never to get out; vitality constrained and unexpressed, forced to bring life into this world only to have their babies taken away year after year to be killed for some person’s luxury – what that must do to our collective human soul!
A Wolf That Chose Her Time To Die
Animal Story, Blog, Wellness & Spirtuality, Wolves | December 15, 2009
Are human and animal passings the same process? When you think about it, is there a reason they wouldn’t be? Life, regardless of form, passing into formlessness; embodied and then gone. I was talking with a friend about Stardance’s last few days on earth, and how Penelope mentioned that Star was grateful for the extra time – that she was in and out, spending some time on this side, some time on the other side, making the transition. My friend exclaimed “That’s just how I experienced my father’s death!” In a book authored by a hospice nurse she reported instance after instance of the same sense for nurses attending to those passing; those who because they were in hospice had the luxury of time instead of being torn away by some sort of violence or sudden death. That they moved back and forth, partly on this side of the veil, partly on the other. That was my experience of Stardance’s transition.
Josie the Buffalo Goat
Self Healing with Wolves
