Separating the Flock.



Sunday’s are about inclusion and acceptance not division, if you hear about partisan talking points from the pulpit, remind your pastor he’s lost touch and fire him.



Intense slumber, not a single movement,

face deeply impressed in the pillow.

Sleep too deep for dreams,

transported to blackened nothingness.

A safe and tranquil place.

An unnatural sound, too loud to excuse,

bursting forth outside my door.

Sleeping dogs spring forth to alarm and protect,

my Zen now over.

Illuminating the night, a dark figure appears,

a fiend tossing my garbage can about.

Undisturbed by my arrival he looks at me,

holding an immaculately clean jar of jam.

So this is the way of life,

we agree to not change a thing.

Letting me see such a noble creature up close,

I gladly accept cleaning his mess in the morning sun.



By her killing tiny Bailey her doom was sealed,

I’m certain no malice was felt towards her.

A terrible ending to a negative encounter,

together they’ve resided for many years.

All avenues led to one choice, most humane but also most final.

Morning arrangement made,

watching the hands move slowly round the clock.

This last day made special with snacks and brushing,

extra loving keeping anxiety at bay.

Beside me she sat knowing today would be unlike any other,

whimpering cries leaking hidden fear.

As the hour approached the leash was grabbed,

walking sadly into the darkened room.

She sat there alone, bolt upright, ready for what awaited her.

One last car ride, staring out the window deep in thought,

unwilling to exit, she backed away to the far side of the car.

Starring at me in the bright room she’d known for healing,

sadness gave way to acceptance.

The pink fluid slowly released into her body, her eyes narrowed.

I tell her of my love and wish her peaceful rest,

petting her furry head those once vibrant eyes began to close.

I stare helplessly as the shades are drawn,

and light is no more.

My hope is her last memory is of someone she loved.

Goodbye Beautiful Raven.

Late Night Snack…

Deer in the headlights

The beasts were stirred up and not willing to relent.  Shouts of “be quiet” and “no” had zero effect whatsoever.  Unable to cease their expression of concern I put them in the room without a view of the yard allowing them to stare at our neighbors garage.  Even behind closed doors I could hear the low rumblings of discontent coming from the dogs, yet my efforts to quiet them were met with greater resistance.

The sky seemed empty that evening except for the glow of the moon which cast an eerie haze upon objects in the horizon, a dark night resembling a sixties horror movie.  Now all that was required was something sinister.

The beasts continued their warnings without any break in sincerity.  Whatever was out there certainly had captured their attention.  Trying to slowly sneak off to bed and enjoy  a restful nights sleep I glanced one last time out the front window.  Something unusual caught my attention.  Misshapen images appeared in my yard.  The night’s hazy view limited a clear understanding of what I was seeing.

I stood transfixed allowing my eyes to adjust and like turning the focus knob on a microscope, soon I understood what caused my beasts such alarm.  There before me stood half a dozen deer of various sizes taking in a late night snack on my newly seeded winter grass.  It must have been tasty as they seemed to dine in peace without a care in the world.  Rigidly I stood viewing this wondrous sight trying to not make a sound thereby sending my guests fleeing into the night.

About that time my daughter came bounding down the stairs needing my immediate attention as it was now way past tucking in time and she couldn’t go to sleep without our nightly ritual.  As I turned to tell her to be still I feared what I would see when I turned back around to look again at my evenings entertainment.  Sure enough they had gone.  Left for another quick bite maybe this time without any interruptions.

Thanks for stopping by.




The fur unnaturally misshapen, the tail still pointing skyward

an occasional twitch, eyes slowly close.

Dashes across the street a mindless activity,

the tire an unforgiving foe.

Alone with whatever thoughts pass at the end,

friends scamper nearby unconcerned.

Sleep comes quickly, the pain too much,

Remembrances of happier days with mom and the family.



Squirrel Nuts…

Zen comes to us when we choose to not seek it out.  At times when we are simply just being people of love and compassion, opportunities to encounter oneness and generosity find an easier path to our door.

Yesterday while returning from a twilight round of golf I happened upon a young deer enjoying a private dining experience near my backyard.  As is my pattern, I stopped fast so as to not interrupt this deer while eating.  My thinking being, I choose to not be disturbed when I eat, why shouldn’t this deer be afforded the same privilege?

I sat still in my golf cart probably around twenty yards from my new friend trying to be quiet and non-eventful as possible I noticed something a little out of the ordinary.  As I looked up towards the top of the tree the deer stood beneath, a rustling took place up high.

It was then I noticed the movement was from a squirrel who was having some type of experience with this deer.  This squirrel was busily dislodging or throwing or somehow making acorns come loose from this tree and rain down in the vicinity of the awaiting deer.  Every now and then the squirrel would come down the tree and look at the deer, as if to say “everything ok?” and then run hastily back to the treetop to resume his service.

These two beautiful creatures allowed me to watch this shared meal for twenty minutes without even giving me a consideration.  Suddenly the deer stood bolt upright, ears at full attention, and his tail began to hastily swat in communication.  A firm glance to his right and then off he ran as a child called home after a long day at play.  He was out of sight in a flash.

God gives us moments like this to remind us of the provision, care, and compassion  available to even the most vulnerable among us.  When we see scenes like this played out, how can we not be equally caring and compassionate?


It was a brief journey we shared,

one filled with wonder and unity.

You brought us together to enjoy your company,

caring for one so fragile and sweet.

You followed us around and did the cutest things,

your energy never abated.

I can still hear your thumps and feel the nibbling kisses,

black eyes bestowing extreme trust for your care.

Those same eyes now forever closed, the hopping ceased,

memories permanently imprinted by your fleeting visit.

Too short was our time together.


My daughter told me the other day of a strange sight she witnessed.  After getting out of her car she started to walk towards the house.  Her eye was attracted to a movement towards her right side.  She paused, then looked only to see the family cat stand up and stretch from its many slumbers in the back yard.  She was shocked to then see another animal bolt upright next to the cat seemingly alarmed to have been caught.  When my daughter was able to make out what she witnessed, she just stood still in disbelief.  As the family pet meowed and moved towards her, the cats new friend, the deer scampered away into the woods.

It’s not everyday one sees a cat and a deer lying beside each other taking a nap and enjoying the warmth of a summer afternoon.  Maybe its best no camera was available as the image in my mind is so much more spectacular than what film could have ever captured.

Who says who we are supposed to be friendly towards?  Why can’t we all get along even if we are glaringly dissimilar?  Apparently nature works differently than humans.


On the way home today from the Post Office, I noticed a turtle sunning himself in the middle of the road.  He didn’t seem to mind the peril that faced him as traffic barreled by in both directions.  I admit, laying in the sun is a relaxing encounter and provides plenty of peaceful calm.

However, this dude would be dead in a short period of time unless he was removed from the road quickly.  I pulled my car to a stop in the road and got out and picked up my placid friend.  He seemed rather disturbed to have his mellow harshed but I picked him up none the less.  After carrying him to the edge of the woods he seemed to look back with gratitude, maybe that part was just in my head, but one never knows.

Life is valuable, all life.  Until we can see the worth of all life, no matter how small and insignificant one can never fully appreciate the meaning of any life.  To do for those who cannot benefit us raises our awareness with the universe that surrounds us.




His stare intimidating, his thoughts unknown,

he seems angry.

It’s an annual event, the shaving of the dog,

a new breed created by the buzz of a razor.

Once so majestic and regal,

the look of a bear, a visual unique.

He must have noticed as he walked past the mirror,

something just not the same.

The focus unnerving, plotting revenge maybe?

Best to watch my back until the hair grows full again.

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