Part 2

Jesse Ann continues from The Bridge:

We animals have it good here.  We have fun, we have treats, we drink from rainbow colored waters.  Angels, like my Auntie Kaya touch us, hold us, cuddle us, pet us as we will.  I have friends who are cats, horses, dogs, rabbits, birds….

Sometimes we feel a pull to go to the bridge, to help another animal who was pulled from their earthly body by murder, cruelty, starvation, neglect.  The Presence helps us to tell these animals, “Here you are safe, here you are loved.”  Sometimes one of my horse friends goes beyond the bridge to carry a weary human, whose soul just can’t seem to make the journey or one too young to know the way.  Sometimes my dog friends run over the bridge, in two or threes, in whole packs, to welcome a human they knew in earthly form, tails wagging furiously, dog-voices singing.

“Welcome! Welcome home!  Here we are!  We love you!”  (The cats, being cats, wait, purring, for their human to arrive.)

One day, one moment, one eternity (for time has no meaning here and it’s all good), Winger says to me, “I’m worried about Mom and Dad.  They have Elke, of course and That Cat and Mom goes to That Place and comes back smelling of Other dogs and cats but they don’t have one of US!”  I look at Winger like he’s crazy (nothing’s changed).

“What ARE you yapping about NOW?” I grumble into his face.

“You know, a cattledog!” says Winger.  “I went to see Mom in that place the humans call a hospital. her body was so still. I sat there and watched her.  I told her to come with me, that I’d show her the way.  It was before you came here to the bridge. I know she saw me. She told me it wasn’t her time to come here. I heard her say it.  But…..she needs one of us, she needs a cattledog!”

“Oh, come ON,” I say scornfully. “We have lots of dog friends here.  You know doggy love comes in many shapes and sizes!  Why look at all those square headed dogs, the ones the humans call “pit bulls.” The ones that came from that awful human place in the mountains; the ones we had to help cross over the bridge?  Just the other day?  Remember?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I KNOW,” says Winger, “But I think they need one of us, a cattledog!”

“Do I have to do EVERYTHING?   Fine, there is a cattledog who needs a foster home, will that do you?  Quit bugging me.”  That’s when Buddy came for a week to live with Mom and Dad.  He went to a good home; thank doG.  But, if you know Winger and I do, he can be the most noisy, annoying pest.  So sometimes a dog has to take things into her own paws.

I went before The Presence, head bowed.  “Divine Love, my brother Winger and my Older Siblings who came here before, The Cattledogs Hart and True, are bugging me also.  They think my humans need a cattledog.  A young annoying one like Winger, but smart and trainable like Hart….Wingie is kind of a dope, you know and I, well I….was admittedly a little pig-headed.  Oh and one that will grow into a solid, smart dog like True. One who loves walks in the woods and rides in the car and swimming and chasing balls!”  I had to stop myself.  I was getting a bit excited, so beneath my dignity.  I bowed my head again, “We humbly ask you, Divine One, if this would be possible?”

The Presence called Winger, True and Hart.  “Dog-Children, purest of souls, Love who existed in earthly form, Our “Dog-ter”, Jesse Ann has asked that one of your type be put into the path of your humans.  Do you all concur?”

“We do,” said Hart and True.

“IdoIdoIdoIdo!” barked Winger.  I barked in his face, “SHUT UP!”.  (Nothing has changed.)

“Are you willing to give a part of your Spirit to do this?  This is a great request and not often granted.  We think that dog souls find their way to have an earthly experience and to teach humans lessons, in whatever form they may take.  Your cat sisters seem to understand this.”

“Yes, but they ARE cats.  You know how cats are.”

“Very well but this shall be a test of your humans and those whose paths they cross.  Do you agree to each give something of yourselves?”

“Yes, Divine One, for we love our humans still and feel they need, well, HERDING!”

“There is a cattledog litter in utero in the state in the country where you lived your earthly form.  There is one embryo, a male, whom no soul has chosen in reside in yet.  This one may have a hazardous journey on the earthly plain without human help.  Are you willing?”  We all agreed and I felt the Presence within me.  If I had a body still, some of my essence would be missing.  I still FEEL like me, but yet now part of my heart is a part of something else.  I believe that True and Hart felt this as well. Winger, being Winger, I’m not so sure!

I watch over the embryo from my home at the beautiful bridge.

One night in the month of September 2011 a little male cattledog pup, all white, is born.  Because we all gave of our essence, because we blended ourselves, he won’t have eye patches as we did. He’s breathing, he’s suckling.

Now look, quite frankly, he is in the earthly world and I have things to do here! The Divine has said that human things will fall into place. But, Winger is worried. (Nothing has changed.)  “Will he find our humans? How? When?”

“Oh, DO shut up!  I’m playing ball!  You asked, we all gave, it’s out of our paws.”

“But LOOK,” Winger barks, “He’s in a crate!  He’s just a little guy, no one is paying any attention to him! That’s not a happy place! Not like our home was!!”

“Look, you bozo, you slept in crates you whole life!  We traveled in crates.  We ate in crates so you wouldn’t eat all my food. What’s the big crate deal?  You know what The Presence said.  We got to let it unfold.”

But Winger barked and barked.  He yapped, yipped and barked!  He barked and carried on so much that the angels thought the stars would collide. Earplugs were used.  The sound of his frantic barking crossed the bridge and spread through time and space and dimension until it was filtered and honed into a sliver of thought. It traveled like radio waves, zapped here and there like a laser beam, filtered through to the human world like smoke signals, anything trying to get the message through to just the right human.  The band of white noise was widespread, seeking a human who would receive the message.

Maybe it was the way Humane Officer S. woke up that morning.  Maybe it was the flicker of thought, the impulse to turn down a certain street. Maybe it was suddenly on her List of Things To Do. Go To This Place.  However it happened, the message arrived whether consciously or in a dream or a decision. She saw the young plain-face cattledog boy and she had to bring him some place safe.  Safer than where he was, that’s for sure!

I looked over at Winger who had finally shut up, for a moment. “See there, you knucklehead, the little guy is in a safe place.  It’s the same place Mom goes to where she got all the Other Smells, how about that? Why look there?  There’s a nice lady, Miss Jen, she helps teach doggies, she says she’s going to foster him.  She looks nice. So can you chill out now? Please?” Some of our angel friends, hoping Winger would be quiet now, dared to take the earplugs out.

“But how will Mom and Dad find him?” Winger whined.

“You’ll see,” The Presence spoke in our hearts, “Hush now, Our Dog-Son, the human wheels are in motion.  Rest, wait, go play ball and chase squirrels.  Until it is your Mom or Dad’s time to go to the bridge, your job is done.  You and Jesse Ann and Hart and True have placed the paw prints of your hearts into a new dog heart on earth.  Let Me help the humans should they ask.  And they will.”

My spirit was there on earth the day Miss Jen brought the puppy over to meet Elke.  A silly angel in a dog suit named Shae brought Elke the message that it’s OK to play and it’s even more OK to to play with the plain-face cattledog puppy.  My spirit soared for this little guy. He’ll be a trial just like some of us were.  Not me of course.  I was perfect. But he’ll be a good dog just like we all became. Our hearts and spirits are with him and we bless the human footsteps that brought them all together.  Our humans have a cattledog now. Winger can relax and I can get some sleep.  But we’ll occasionally check out how it’s going.  Winger wouldn’t have it any other way.

And many, many human years from now, when it’s time for the new guy’s spirit to soar out of his earthly body, we’ll be there to greet him.

“Welcome Home, Little Brother!  You are a part of all of us, the cattledogs who went before! Welcome Home, Artie Bloo!’

To Read Part One, it’s here at WordPress or go here:
http://miaharted.blogspot.com/2012/07/a-cattledogs-gift-part-one.html