Sitting on my bed on a chilly morning, cup of tea beside me, Sasha doberman cross on my feet, Draco terrier cross under the duvet curled up on my legs, Charlie kitten sharing my lap with the pc. Joy. When I was growing up dogs were not allowed in our beds. Whiskey fox terrier knew the rule, but between us we had a pact. When he heard mum and dad come down the passage to my bedroom he would hide under the bed, and return once they had wished me good night. Little black and white protector - on one day barking madly at me while I stood on the pavement and he faced me from the road, viscious barking madly at me - till we worked out he was asking me not to step off the curb onto a puff adder that was lazing in the sun on the concrete. He will be waiting for me at the end of my time, on the other side of the light... Even though the nuns said that dogs don't go to heaven - yeah right!
I always found the concept of surrender a cop out. Something one would do if one was too weak to take on a situation. So, when I found myself in a situation where I am unable to follow my passion in the most effective manner, I experienced great discomfort. Speaking up was immediately taken as judgement. Even though it was never intended as that. The presumed judgement resulted in defence. And the drama began, and unfolded. Chasms and vindication ruled. Frustration and finger pointing. What has this to do with animals? For those of us that work with animals, they are like kids. They sense how we feel. Our moods affect them. So, when this type of angst environment is created, the disturbance affects the creatures that we love. The lesson – stop the angst. It is not worth upsetting the animals. Nothing is. So, surrender. Not sure where this will go. But I am here righ...
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