Tag Archives: love

Going out on a limb… Part 2.

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If you’re back this morning it must mean you want to know how my reading with the psychic went back in 2013. Funny, eight years later and I still have to pinch myself when I think about it. Roll your eyes, scoff, write me off as a nutcase… I don’t care. I would have done the same if I hadn’t experienced it myself. You know me…I’m a pragmatic chicka. A realist. There have only been a handful of things in my life I can’t explain…. and this was one of them. So jump aboard the crazy train and thank Swinged Cat  for opening up my archive with his request for sharing weird experiences.

My evening with spirits…. **Friends only**

 January 29th 2013 at 9:47am by rivergirl

I’m not sure I know where to begin.

And if I start rambling, please forgive me…it was a very emotional experience.

The psychic was a lovely woman who made me feel completely at ease. There was no incense, no crystal ball, just a table and the prerequisite box of tissues. She instructed me at the beginning of the session not to volunteer any information. Only to acknowledge or negate what she said. So for all you skeptics, there was no way she was pulling details of my life from me since all I said for an entire hour was yes or no.

I have to say it felt surreal. The moment we started she told me there was a man, who she felt was my father, waiting for me. I won’t go into all the details since none of you knew him….suffice it to say she had him down cold. There was nothing she related that wasn’t completely accurate. She had his personality, his job, his appearance, his love for my mother, his wartime experience, his poor health, his dry sense of humor, his love of the sea. She saw him surrounded by books, artist’s brushes, animals and gardens. She spoke of his grief over the loss of his brother when he was young, of his regrets in not being able to watch me grow up, his sense of duty towards his widowed mother and awful sister.

(And let me tell you…she had her down pat also. My hateful aunt who the psychic called spoiled, entitled and bitter. Fittingly, she is as alone in death as she was in life. Nice to know you really do reap what you sow. πŸ‘)

I think the most amazing thing I came away from this experience with was the knowledge that our loved ones are always with us. My father said he was glad I had found a good man who loved me. That we were secure financially, that we were happy. He knew my husband had been in uniform and was older than I. He spoke of the big building project we had undertaken (the barn!) and how well we worked together as a team. He said he had been worried for me in my early teenage years right after he died because I, how shall we say….ran a little wild. (Which I totally did!) He said he appreciated the fact that I care for my mother… and to please have patience with her… as he had to, for she is not a strong woman.

The psychic told me of my father being there the night of the Marine Corps ball and how lovely he thought I looked in my dress. Of how proud he was of me for finding my own voice after so many years of being a shy wallflower. (Yeah….I know, hard to believe but at one time I was.) He wanted me to know that our beloved beagle Hiram was beside him now as he had been in life….which made the animal lover in me rejoice. He told me to lead the life I wanted to lead…that it is the regrets we take with us. And even though I never felt neglected as a child, his biggest regret was that he worked too hard and too long and didn’t spend enough time with my mother and me. He spoke of many little childhood memories I had all but forgotten. He spoke of the grief he carried over the loss of my brothers and sister. (My mother had multiple miscarriages early in their marriage) As I said…it was surreal.

Though I did choke up a few times….I didn’t babble. Which is surprising because even after all these years, I can’t often speak of my father without crying. I think I might have been too stunned for tears. My jaw was probably hanging open half the time because even though this was exactly what I had hoped for…part of me didn’t believe it could really happen. I’d happily crossed over into the Twilight Zone… and no one could have been more surprised. But aside from the other worldly vibe? The over all feeling of the evening was peace.

And love….above all, love.

For 35 years I have missed my father…. and wished over and over again that he could have shared my life as a teenager, as a young woman, as an adult. And now, the most remarkable thing I realized?

 He has.

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Dudley update.

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It took almost 3 weeks, but our new boy is settling in nicely and less skittish every day.

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Loud noises like the snow plow still send him under the bed … and the jury is still out on exterior wonders. He spied wild turkeys in the backyard the other day and growled from under the couch for 5 minutes straight.

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But he’s learning to trust us and coming out of his shell. Toys help, and I’ve retrieved that fuzzy ball from under the furniture enough times to require another visit to the orthopedist.

I think it’s safe to say I’m in love.

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Even my girlfriend recognized how much having a little guy around the house again means and sent a congratulations card.

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Dudley loves his squeaky mouse, but not when we wave the stick…. so I rigged up a do it yourself playground.

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I’m sure he’s grateful, though he doesn’t look it.

It should be noted that while I love dogs and all their slobbering appreciation? There’s something about the utter disdain cats show their humans which speaks to me.

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Meet Dudley.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten to be precise.

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Our new little guy still goes under the bed and shies away from loud noises…

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But when he’s out and about he’s a sweetie. And a bit of a goofball.

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With enough of the typical you were put on this planet to serve me cattitude to warrant his name.

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One minute he’s a cuddle bug, the next he runs away when we walk in the room. I have a feeling this little guy saw some trauma along the way. Patience will be required.

πŸ’•

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A purrfect day.

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I wasn’t exaggerating the last week when I said I cried after giving the stray cat back to his owners. It was strange… I knew it was the right thing. I knew I had to do it. I knew he would be loved and well cared for. But when I was at the sink washing out the cat dishes? I kind of lost it.

I’m a huge animal lover and have had a houseful of pets all my life… up until two years ago when we lost our last cat (he was 26!) and the husband said no more pets because he wanted to retire and travel freely. I understood, and I didn’t argue… but I hated the feeling of an empty house. So when that little guy wandered in? He stole my heart immediately. I was complete.

For 6 whole days, then I was bereft.

And bless my husband’s heart, even though I know he didn’t want to… he broke down and suggested we go to a shelter and rescue a kitty.

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I honestly didn’t know I could get dressed and out the door that fast…. but I broke my record and was waiting in the car before he could change his mind.

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We drove north to PALS. ( Protection for Animal Life Society ) It’s a wonderful no kill cat shelter I’d heard about but never had occasion to visit.

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It was amazing. Clean, well run, with an on staff vet and room after room of lucky kitties.

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It was a veritable snuggly cat stacked warehouse.

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We were interviewed and then led into the visiting room to meet the adoptable felines. Some were friendly and outgoing, some were shy and sad. We were told some were permanent residents due to health or behavioral issues.

I would have been happy to take any one of them home… but decided to let the husband choose.

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After much deliberation, this stocky little grey and white fellow was chosen to be an official member of Casa River. ( first photo taken in moving vehicle hence the blur )

He was found wandering as a stray and was surrendered 3 weeks ago. He’s been neutered, wormed, vaccinated and been given a clean bill of health. They estimate his age at 4 years.

He’s very sweet and enjoys being petted…

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When you can find him.

For now he’s skittish and needs to learn to trust us. Lord knows what the poor little guy has been through…but he’ll be happy here.

I’ll make sure of it.

πŸ’•

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Heartbroken.

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The beautiful stray cat we fell in love with and gave a home?

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Has been returned to his rightful owners.

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I think you can guess that wasn’t my choice…. but when you receive a call from the local police department, there really isn’t any way to avoid it.

Apparently his people had been frantically searching for him but aren’t active on social media and didn’t see my original posts about finding him. A friend of theirs alerted a lost animal site…

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And there really was no doubt.

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After the police gave me their phone number, I found this on my FB messenger.

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Damn.

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They live right up the road from us.

The guilt was strong, because I really wanted to keep him.

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But look, he has a twin brother.

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Double damn. There were worried children.

I had to call.

So I called.

They came, they thanked us profusely, they took their beautiful kitty, and yes…. I cried.

Now the house seems emptier than ever.

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Welcome to the family… I think.

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Meet our new family member.

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The cat my husband swore we wouldn’t have any more of after our last one passed because he wanted to be free to travel.

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This handsome fellow has been wandering our neighborhood (in the cold Maine winter!) for weeks. A woman down the road took him in, but her dogs kept attacking.

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Our farming neighbors across the street took him in, but they have 4 cats, 2 dogs and 3 kids in a 1,000 square foot house…. so they begged us to shelter him.

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The husband said yes, temporarily while we tried to find his owners.

He’s clean, healthy, flea and ear mite free… and a genuine love bug. Someone clearly cared for this kitty. But after posting on numerous lost pet sites, numerous local Facebook pages and asking everyone I know? It looks like he’s ours.

And the husband who said no way, no more pets?

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Yeah.

He’s been charmed.

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And to think it only took three days.

Such is the power of cats.

πŸ’•

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25th is silver, so 37th must be …. platypus?

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The husband and I recently celebrated 37 blissful (read – we haven’t killed each other yet) years of marriage.

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And because he’s a sweetie, a bouquet of flowers was delivered.

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And to my most divine pleasure, it contained colors other than green.

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Required cheesy old photograph of the happy couple.

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And yes, along with the lovely flowers was a platypus.

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Because after 37 years? He gets me.

πŸ’•

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He loves me.

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And I love him.

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Which is easy to do when he has things like this delivered for my birthday a while back.

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Our local florist does lovely arrangements.

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But it’s a bit of a challenge when every time they ask my husband what colors I like, he tells them green.

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And since green flowers are rather rare, I tend to get a lot of predominantly white bouquets.

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Still pretty, and I’m not complaining.

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But.

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🀣 🀣 🀣

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