Thursday, October 27, 2016

The writing on the wall

I'm intellectually against rescue because of the poor results and distress. The old age home for dogs proved to me that they'll just pine away for home until they die.

But my guides are adamantly against it. They won't let me touch an animal to move it. Something to do with place or energies.(1)

I've asked the guides a dozen times if I could move the Parsi dog home because I loved her so but the answer was always "no, treat her here". I asked them 3 times if I could move the bakery black home to keep him safe, but they still said no. Really galls, but I get why. Transporting is a strain on the animal (it may gave killed bakery black), displacement is heart wrenching for them even temporarily. There's no way to get them to understand it's for their good. Even starving and dying where they are is preferable to them. Bakery black was unconscious on route and dead before they offloaded him into their shelter. It could have happened to anyone, even me with him onroute home.

I'm not really angry anymore with all of it. Syndrome X is a familiar, terminal cascade even in humans - I may not have saved him anyway.

It hurts to know that he ate meat from me at 6 am, walked on noodly legs with dizziness at 9 am, drank the milk I gave him at 9:30 am and they say he was too far gone to save at 10 am? It insults my intelligence.

His body was relieving his blood pressure by bursting veins in his toes naturally. That's what docs do for stokes in humans. There was a G3 storm predicted for the evening, and kp5 at that time ... but he was surviving it. I felt the degree of his intense, life-sucking vertigo twice at about 2 feet away, but I could prana breathe it away for him. Up close his energy was clear and healing well.

If only they'd left him alone! *sigh*

No more about this - my heart and left arm had hurt when I heard he was taken away last evening - I think that's my guides showing me he'd had a natural heart attack.

I'm not going to accuse anyone involved of anything but the best of intentions from this point on. He's always only known love - everyone on that street loved him - kids, moms, shopkeepers, bakeries, chai drinkers, hoboes. The end was swift and he never really left.

It was meant to be.

1. Maybe that's why they want me to bury even rats (which I haven't done so far *shudders* but I should). Even the street sweepers tell me to "mannumadi, amma"/bury them in the earth. But if they're small kittens or rats or birds, I put them in a shroud and give them to the garbage guys like a coward. Can't bear to handle the dead.

Must be all the death-worship that I did as an Egyptian - funerals and burials appear nostalgic nonsense to me with just a broken down body. (I need to get over this block).

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