Kaetheryn Walker - The Heart That Is Loved Never Forgets: Recovering from Loss: When Humans and Animals Lose Their Companions

Acknowledgments

There are many people to thank for their participation in the writing of this book. To Nena Norton I am grateful for many forms of support, for her inspiration, her love, her lessons about the wonders of manifestation. I will miss her companions James, General, Pickles, and Frisky. Without her I would not have come to know Tushwa, who understands that I am perfect in my imperfection.

Because of Tom Prescott, Cat came into my life. She is a great joy to me. I know that Ernest keeps an eye on both of us, and I hope he is pleased with my efforts on her behalf.

In the early days, Bitsa Turner was my beacon on a dark horizon, presenting a third option I had not dared hope was possible. A turning point, she and the old gang at Drop-In made everything that followed within my reach.

Lisa Hawkins is due an award for friendship and caring well above and beyond the call of duty. She helped keep my household going, supplied boxes of tissues, and never let me give up. She helped me get home again to my beloved ocean, and mothered the motherless child in me.

Like her human companion, Wendy Kochenthal, I will miss Muffin. I am deeply inspired that Wendy lives the message I hope to impart in this book.

My thanks to my brother-in-law, Bill Collins, for keeping my car going, his sense of humor, and tires! And my sister, Karen, for loving me, praising me, and being my family.

I thank Cher Jones, Ed Barker, Kyle Aveni, and Cecil Gary for putting up with me on days when I wasnt fit company for man or paintbrush. (Kyle, I forgive you for leaving me stranded on the porch roof.)

The heart of whats in this book is exemplified by the life of my best true-blue friend, Kathleen Kravik. She puts her heart, love, soul, and endless tenderness into helping the strays of Waldo County, Maine. She has shared my joys and victories, and showed up at my house with lists of things for me to do, when things werent going so smoothly. The only difficulty I ever have with her is that shes always right.

I am grateful to Bev and Albert Poliquin for giving Bruno the life he so much deserves, and for loving him (and putting up with him).

Jeannine Anns artwork compliments this book. It was a joy to see her blossom as an artist and a human filled with Christ consciousness as she completed her contribution. Because of her efforts, I can share with you, dear reader, the lovely faces of these four-footed friends of mine.

Since our Goddard days, Diana Gould has stood beside me. As friend, advisor, and contemporary she has walked many paths with me. May she always walk in beauty.

Charlie Vellieux has walked The Good Red Road with me. To gatherings and teachings, he has been a protective and caring companion. His drumming keeps my spirit nourished as I write.

During the early drafts of this book Chris Sumner shared the story of her loss, gave encouragement, and extended a hand in friendship.

Many thanks and gratitude go to all the folks at Inner Traditions International. It all began with Jon Graham, who read the first draft and accepted the manuscript for publication. During the initial stages Deborah Kimbell was straightforward in a manner that made it possible for me to proceed with clarity and purpose. Rowan Jacobsen, my editor, slaved through my bad grammar, horrendous punctuation, poor sentence structure, and never once complained. If there is a patience award, he deserves it. I thank Peri Champine for her work on the cover design, Rachel Goldenberg for her lovely text design, and I owe a debt of gratitude to Jeff Euber and Kristi Tate for putting me and my work into the public arena. There are, of course, others who worked on different elements of the book who I also thank for bringing this beautiful book together so that I could share it with you.

Grieve not,

nor speak of me with tears,

but laugh and talk of me

as if I were beside you...

I loved you so

twas Heaven here with you.

Isla Paschal Richardson

Old Friends

In winter, when the cold winds blow to rattle the

barn doors, There is calm within, a quiet munching of hay as

Snowflakes beat themselves against windowpanes.

Adjusting blankets, I find that soft, velvety place high

on the inside of a hind leg,

Its warmth thawing numbed fingers.

At dawn, when the light strikes the top of the old pine

tree, I am greeted by soft nickers, anticipation of breakfast.

On venturing into the stillness of morning and the warming sunlight,

Hooves crunch through newly drifted snow. One

stands immobile, a statue, watching,

Listening, breath rising in crystalline clouds that drift

away to snow somewhere else.

In spring, when the snows have gone and the ground given up its frost,

They lie stretched out, bones warmed by strengthening sun,

Reminiscent of beached whales.

I move quietly among them, checking for signs of life,

humbled by the trust that lets me

Touch a face cradled by warm earth.

On soft, summer nights, they become different creatures,

No longer the friends I know by day. More wary, less trusting, they melt silently into

Woods, if approached too boldly, surfacing once more in unexpected places.

I keep my distance, and watch as they graze in a

Mist lit by fireflies and moonlight.

With the first cool winds that mark the beginning of the end of summer,

There is a quickening of blood. They run in exultation,

great strides that shake the earth,

Giving expression to that fire still burning inside.

I shout with joy, honored to be witness to the

Beauty of their movement.

In fall, we walk through woods where once we galloped, as

Shards of sunlight filter through trees, the path a

kaleidoscope of fallen leaves,

Red, yellow, green and gold. Listening and watching,

We drink in the fullness of life around us.

Companions at peace with one another.

There are only three now, one black, one brown, one with stars on his sides.

They know the best of me, the worst of me, and love me nonetheless.

I cherish each moment, wrinkled nostrils as they drink,

The clean smell of their breath, the rub of a head on my shoulder.

I would not trade these quiet joys. They mark the rhythm of my life.

Each evening, before I leave the barn,

I speak my incantation for protection till the dawn.

Good night. Sleep well. Be well.

I love you.

Old friends.

Nena Norton

PREFACE

A Brief Introduction to Homeopathy

While this book mentions how we, as humans, grieve the loss of our animal companions and can heal from our emotional losses, it primarily addresses these topics in relation to our animal companions. It often goes on to discuss using homeopathic remedies as aids to emotional healing for these animals.

In the United States the use of homeopathy as a complementary aid for healing physical illness in both humans and animals is gaining widespread recognition. In 1982 Veterinarian Richard Pitcairn first published his book Natural Health for Dogs and Cats, a revised edition of which has been subsequently published by Rodale Press. Dr. Pitcairn was among the first to address such topics as feeding animals a natural diet, grieving the loss of an animal companion, and using herbs, nutrition, and homeopathic remedies to aid animal healing. He was also an early voice of concern about the possible harmful effects of vaccinations on animals immune systems.