True Love

Sometimes being adopted really bugged me. People would always ask, "Do you know who your real family is?" Even going to a new doctor, as they asked about genetic history, I'd always have to put, "I don't know."

I dreamed about my natural mother at night, fantasizing about her during the day. Even as I would walk down the street I'd always wonder if she were passing me on the sidewalk without my knowing it. I'd look into people's faces and eyes, searching for the natural familiarity that seemed to exist between parents and children.

In 1984 I thought I was losing my hair. I'd go to my stylist and ask her if my hairline was receding. I wasn't finding clumps of it in the sink or on my pillow, I just truly believed I was losing my hair for some reason.

When I found my natural family in 1989, I learned that at the very same time I was convinced I was losing my hair, my natural mother was in fact losing hers from chemotherapy. She died before I could meet her, but the reality that we were still connected in our silence taught me that love knows no dimension. True love doesn't know time, distance, life, death...true love exists beyond my pedestrian experiences and comprehension. True love is energy, therefore, it can be shaped and moved.

I feel her with me all the time now, I know our unity is only a heartbeat away.

Until next time,

Peace.

The African LIon-Dog

As a refuge owner I get all kinds of calls, inquiries and accusations. Most wind up being very amusing in some sense. This particular incident took place a few years ago when the refuge was new enough not to have a track record of safety.

Nine o'clock in the morning, a knock comes on the door. I opened the door to find two cops looking serious. "Are any of your tigers missing?"

After I put my eyeballs back in their sockets, I brought the officers to the compound and counted tigers. They were all there. So, "No, every one's here...", as I go on to explain the gazillion safety measures I've taken.

One officer says that a lady down the street called the cops, saying she'd been trapped in her car by an African lion. I told him that I didn't have any lions and I hadn't heard about anyone who had them in the area. Apparently the woman had come home and an African lion was in her yard and trapped her in her car. When the lion walked off, she'd raced into the house and called the police.

The police in turn contacted the Tulsa Zoo saying there was an African lion on the loose. The Zoo told the police to be very careful and they dispatched someone to come out with a tranquilizer gun and a team to capture the animal.

The officer at my house told me the story and so I asked him if it could have been a mountain lion, one of which was rumored to be living in this area. He said he didn't know.

I knew that an African lion and a mountain lion would have very different behaviors, and knowing their behaviors would help the police. The officer drove me to the woman's house so I could interview her and possibly help in capturing the animal.

When I got there, she was almost hysterical. Lights were flashing, half a dozen cop cars, higher and higher officials coming and going; this was getting interesting.

I began to interview her. "How close was he?"

"Oh, he was only about six feet away!"

"Did you notice any markings?"

"No, I was too scared."

"Do you remember the shape of its ears?" (Mountain lions have pointed ears, African lions: round.)

"No, I didn't notice, I was too scared."

"Okay, how big was it?"

She pointed to the bottom of her kneecap.

Not an African lion, maybe a bobcat. If it had been an African lion, at that size, the poor little thing would have been terrified, not bold and aggressive, or even big enough to trap a woman in a car.

I called out into the woods, "Boys, put the 9 mils away, it's probably a bobcat!" I felt their relief, their beehive had been seriously rattled with this.

I continued to interview the woman.

I asked her what happened and she told me the whole story, barely able to hold it together.

To help her, I walked her outside so she could get some fresh air as she talked. As we were talking out there, she looked up to the road and her eyes became big and terrified. She pointed and said, "That's it! That's the African lion that trapped me!"

I looked up to the road and saw the animal sitting in the road, staring at us.

"Are you sure ma'am?"

Still pointing, "Yes! That's the African lion!"

"Um, ma'am, that's a dog."

Nobody so much as snickered, we all felt sorry for her.

The dog, although dun colored, was just sitting there wagging its tail, watching all the commotion from the side of the road.

Mystery solved.

Until next time,

Peace.

A Bit About Skydiving

Trust me when I tell you that skydiving is not for everyone. Especially for me, I was bad at it. But I loved it for the ridiculous smile it gave me and the sense of raw fun. Nothing like the smell of jet fuel and hurtling to the earth (unmotorized) at 187 mph to start one's day.
Personally I was going through a very tough time and knew I had to do something that would wake up my sense of fun and wonder; something totally outrageous. So, I learned how to skydive.
Since a bad skydiver equals a dead skydiver, I had to quit jumping. I really miss it though; I look at planes flying overhead and wonder where the exit door is and whether or not I've ever jumped from one.
I have lots of precious memories of my friends, of the fun we'd have in freefall as well as on the ground. Skydiving is a whole lifestyle, not just a sport.
One particularly sweet memory comes to mind today:
I was in freefall and noticed I was several hundred feet above a hawk circling her pastures. As I came toward her, I dipped my shoulder to follow her spirals. For a moment there was just the two of us in the whole world, me and a hawk.
She flew off to continue hunting and I opened canopy to float home.

An African Black-Maned Lion Named Zeus

The first time I met the lions I knew I was home. Looking into their golden-green eyes, I saw the beauty and nobility of my own simple soul. I knew the adult male would fight to the death to protect me, I had become a member of the pride.
In the mornings, I'd go around the compound saying hi to the various animals and check on their well-being.
At first Zeus gave me his shoulder to scratch. After a few weeks of that he'd lie down next to the fence so I could scratch his back and neck.
I slowly made my way through his mane, getting closer and closer to his ears and eyes (his survival gear), earning his trust.
Then one day I saw he had sleepy feathers in his eyes and I went to brush them away. Zeus snorted and snapped at my hand. It wasn't an aggressive snap, it was just letting me know he wasn't ready yet.
Some time went by and he began to let me rub his eyes.
After these trials of trust, in the mornings, Zeus would come out of his den and lie down in front of the fence; on his back, all fours askew in the air. He'd put his head up against the fence and I'd massage his forehead. After just a few minutes he'd fall soundly asleep.

I wear a gold crown of thorns on my right index finger. I wear it to remind me of the deep spirituality that comes with conscious living. I also love being barefoot in nature; it keeps me grounded broadening and solidifying the spiritual lessons I learn. Today I was lying next to the pond and took off the crown of thorns and placed it on a few leaves of grass. The metaphor really struck home. My own evolution and its growing pains, the evolution of sentient life; a crown of thorns and a blade of grass. I was so excited I came into the house to get the camera so I could share it...I forgot the ring and now, it's soaking up the sunshine and earth down somewhere near the pond. I'll get the metal detector and find it later.

Building the Tigers A Home

There's a lot to consider when building a tiger compound. 1. Safety for the neighbors. 2. Safety for the tigers. 3. Ventilation 4. Noise 5. Odors 6. Comfort for the Tigers 7. Exercising 8. Resting 9. Weather (in all climates~~cold/hot/rain/snow) 10. Ease of Maintenance 11. Ease of Cleaning 12. Safety in Feeding/watering 13. Ease of Feeding/watering and 14. Veterinary Care.
Since I'd worked in three refuges, I took a little from each in building my compound. The outer fence is 16 feet high with barbed wire tops. The inner fence is 16 feet high with barbed wire tops. The poles supporting the fence are sunk into over a foot and a half of concrete for stability.
The compound is completely open, divided into pens (dirt runs with ponds) and dens (concrete slab with block housing). At some point I'd like to enclose the den area so I can offer them a controlled climate. But, in the meantime, I'd designed their housing so they can go inside and get out of the wind, snow and rain. They can also climb up on top of the housings. The housings also have weep holes so I can clean inside them easily.
Another point of focus was offering the tigers the choice of sun or shade throughout the course of the day as the sun moves across the sky.
In a letter to my neighbors before I began to build, I offered to plant trees to reduce any noise they may experience. I also bought 70 acres of land and plunked the compound right in the middle so I wouldn't encroach upon any neighbor's privacy or quiet.
To control odors I have gullies in the front and back of the den areas that lead to a septic system in place for the compound. I clean the dens every day.
By having so many choices in where to lie down or play, they are very comfortable. Because of the dirt and pond pen areas, they can exercise. I also let one tiger at a time have run of the perimeter compound so they can run at length. Then, they can curl up on top of their housings, or go inside them and completely get out of the wind and rain or snow.
The bottom rails are four inches above the concrete so I can easily roll their food into their dens. I also dug holes in the concrete so they can drink fresh water without worrying about the safety of small metal tins to hold the water. They also have six foot cattle troughs from which to drink.
The den areas have guillotine gates so I can shut the tigers outside in their pens while I clean their dens, or I can shut them into their dens so we can give them proper veterinary care.
Having tigers is a huge responsibility. It doesn't matter if I'm sick as an old dog, they need to be fed, watered and attended to when they need it, not when I can do it. There are huge safety considerations as well as appeasing annoyed and frightened neighbors.
Speaking of frightened neighbors, I think my next story will be The African Lion-Dog; you guys are never gonna believe this one.

Until Next Time,
Peace.
Tiger

Looking for Home

Originally I wanted to go back to Montana. I loved it there, I had good friends, but in the 6 years I was gone the land prices had skyrocketed. I'd also have to face town meetings and approvals, risking a $500,000 investment, to be told, "No." So, I started looking around.

Colorado wasn't allowing any more refuges in the state, California was out, as was Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, Oregon and Washington. I never gave Wyoming a chance, it was too desolate.

My best friend in Boulder was from Jenks, Oklahoma. She said some great things about the area, calling this part of the state 'Green Country'. I always thought of Oklahoma as a desert, with tumbleweeds blowing across lone, barren highways. Not so in the northeast corner of the state. We are actually in the southwest corner of the Ozarks.

I'd also signed up at Powwow.com so I could get notices of powwows in Colorado and noticed there were tons of them here in Oklahoma. My tribe is in Oklahoma too. So, I had several reasons to check out the state.

Land prices were fairly reasonable, it was really pretty here, I wouldn't have a ton of red tape to get through to have the sanctuary, so, I packed up, sold the beautiful home I was in, and moved.

Scared? Out of my mind. Determined? Absolutely.

Everyone should have a dream and dare to achieve it. I didn't want to be 80 years old consumed with regret. I had to do this.

Next up, finding ZenSticks.

Until next time,

Dare to Dream.