Puppy Dogs and Angels

“Your tears show that you care, under any circumstance, and to hold back your tears is to hold back your love from life.”
~ Spirit Guide Dr. Peebles, channeled by Summer Bacon, 2009

A few years ago not long after my husband Don Pendleton had passed away, I decided I needed to have a dog. I took a couple of trips to the Sedona Humane Society but did not find a dog I wanted to take home. Then I saw an ad for Australian Shepard puppies.

You know how are puppies are. You fall in love with them even if it might not be an ideal breed. But I fell for her and she was eight weeks old when I brought her home. I named her Misty, bought toys for her, and a good sized carrier for nighttime or when I had to leave the house.

I soon found a trainer--actually three trainers all together. The first one, who primarily dealt with training German Shepards, I did not care for her roughness and attitude. Then the second trainer dealt in “touch training” (sounded more New Age LOL ) and she gave up working with Misty after only about three lessons. So the third trainer was excellent and she had worked with animals and birds at San Diego Animal Park. She and Misty got along just great. But give me the leash and it was a different matter. Misty was very smart and would have made an excellent obedience show dog, but not with me. She wanted to herd, constantly, and it was usually me she herded, nipping at my legs and feet every move I made. So in a few short months, I had to find her a new home. She found a happy home on a cattle ranch in Tucson and last I heard she was thrilled to be able to herd cattle all day long.

When I decided I had to give her up, I cried, and it stirred my grief issues, which were still raw and painful at times. One evening just before I gave her away, I was out in the backyard with her. We had a rock area and I was standing near it looking at the rocks on the ground.

Then I heard these words, “you need to paint angels on the rocks.” I was reminded of the pet rock craze in the 1960s when you’d see the funny faces or bugs, etc, on small rocks. So I found the best rocks I could, cleaned them up, and after saying goodbye to Misty the next day, I got out my oil paints and began painting angels. Not long after I sold a few at one of our local art shows.

The angels were exactly what I need to heal the sadness I was feeling, not only about Misty, but about Don. And in a small way, I found joy and a sense of purpose.

I always love dancing with the angels.

~Linda