How I know Mom is the “real deal”
At one of our Denver speaking gigs recently, Mom and I were presenting eco-solutions for a pet’s daily life; someone asked how I chose Mom as my transcriber. I thought I would share our answer and how I know she is the "real deal."
Being a canine and wanting to pen a book is one-big job. When we published books in 2008 and 2009, I needed help; I knew I wanted Mom to set down my experiences, dreams, and thoughts, as she and I are “zealous about our work.” We practice green actions together, visit and investigate new ways and ideas, ask tough questions, bark-out about them daily, and advocate for others to do the same. We do a lot of chin-wagging.
Mom had stirred my curiosity some years earlier when she shared that growing up on the farm she communicated with the animals and with nature. I told her “I have images in myself” and she told me she could “see those” as well as “hear my feelings.” Believe me; I tested her, as I did not want some flap-mouth thinking she was talking for me, even if it was my Mom. Here is the rest of the story.
As many of you know, I do pet therapy weekly. After my pal, Joe passed away at the elderly facility in 2007; Mom and I walked and talked a couple of days later. Our journey, at first light was quite unlike any walks we had taken before. After all, I had visited Joe every Tuesday around 2 pm for some years; he was an “old and dear friend;” I knew him well. I was grieving and more than that celebrating the specialness of the human, I had come to know.
It was on that Sunday when I knew Mom was for “real.” I let her know I wanted her and me to give Joe’s eulogy later that day. As we walked, I told her what I wanted others to know about Joe, about our time together; what our visits were like and what dreams we shared. You see what you do not know is everyone else saw (and I might add experienced, unpleasantly so), the crusty-side of my friend; I saw an “old and wise man who never failed to speak his love for me.” When I walked in his room and his eyes caught a glimpse of me, Joe would light up, smile, and greet me with all he had that day. He would have a bag of cheerios waiting for me from breakfast because he would ask for extras on Tuesday and stow them away for my visit. Joe told me his “big dreams,” and shared things he wanted to do with me. He never forgot to thank me for visiting and being his “best friend.”
I wrote in my book; “The day of Joe's services I walked with Mom to the front of the chapel; I sat ever so still and looked in each person’s eyes as she spoke my feelings. There was not a dry eye in the chapel. Those moments changed our life forever.” Seven months later, we published our first book and a year later Ernie (my little bro) and I co-authored our second book, the one for children.
Just last week I heard Mom tell someone “when you truly love animals you are communicating with them.” She explained, “You just have to nurture the gift.” Mom is matchless and instinctive. She is in touch with all of the animals in our house, the felines, Miller man, Hillary and Stubby and my canine brother Ernie, all stories for another day. Every day I sit back (sometimes with a big canine grin) and watch my 4-legged family share with her. I am so grateful we have an amazing “forever home,” and that I found a Mom who I am incredibly proud to call my transcriber. For a dog, like me, who was beaten, abused, and put out for rescue, I am one lucky four-legged.