The Divine Sense of Humor…

Just witnessed Isaboe and her stud muffin mating. I wrote years ago that I know that *the divine* has a warped sense of humor and it isn’t just because of the Platypus.  I moved to a resort environment, that stays green pretty well all year long.  I have the green and trees that I need to feel *healthy* (I cannot be in a city environment too long… it gives me a headache)… and a broad variety of magnificent song birds.  I live in a paradise (for me).   Then smack dab in the middle of it, about 8 years ago, Isaboe (that’s what I call her after the movie LadyHawke) (sp?) moved in and decided to become an active and contributing member of our society and community by having very successful breedingings (UGH). We have contributed at least 16 new cooper hawks (more if all survived, 16 if only two survived per brood).  Oh wow… she just flew in for a bath…)


How am I able to write this real-time?  I’m in my home office, creating and writing some pieces for my business blog and my client’s marketing, and my desk looks out over the commons.  The window is 6′ wide so I have an unobstructed view of the commons… and the hills behind it.  There are a couple of tall liquid ambers and syacamores that the hawks favor for hunting (no surprise there) but this is the first time in 13 years I have actually seen the ritual start to finish.  This also means I will, once again, watch the little ones with the training-wheel wings and listen to their totally irritating *squeal* that affects me like nails on a chalkboard.  Every time they accomplish something new, it’s like hearing “look ma, no wings…” and they get all excited.  Then there is the distinct hysteria that surrounds feedings.  I always know when Isaboe has brought food to the table.  (sigh).  She has her favorite trees for the actual nest.  Eucalyptus.  We have some very large canopy Eucalyptus… and I can watch her with binoculars as she builds her next.

I am not one of those who settles for the “it’s nature”, when something is killed.  I hate the process.  One time (in the early days) my new husband said to me (after something that distressed me with animals) “It’s nature so you have to accept it.” and I responded ” no i don’t.  Who said?   My personal motto is muddle where possible.  If I can save a dove, or a spider, or a snake or a lizard or a canary… I will.  That’s my role.  And as for “accepting it”, I don’t.  It sucks, and when I cross over, if there is an afterlife, and whoever is in charge of wildlife and the b.s. survival of the fittest… I am going to walk up to them as said “what were you thinking?” (and a slap on the side of the head).”

When people are surprised at my level of emotion, and to the extent I will go to help animals, wildlife and domestic, for some crazy reason they feel free to let me know that they think it is wee bit obsessive, overly-emotional, and one-foot in eccentric… and that it is almost a liability in their eyes.  They don’t necessarily say it in words.  They use the facial and physical expressions to convey their opinions too.  Personally I can’t understand them at all, or anyone who doesn’t feel this way.  I’m interested and emotionally involved with everything – whether it directly affects me or not.  If I am given the chance to intervene, I will.  I do not like, approve or want to witness the predator/prey dramas on TV or in real-life. It’s downright horrifying to me; my glasses are rose-colored.  I am equally passionate about trees and plants.   I had a HOA board member say to me, after my furor over the unnecessary cutting of healthy trees (that were not doing any harm whatsoever to anyone or anything) that my response was, in her opinion, obsessive – and they are just trees  and I responded “really –  then it shouldn’t surprise you that I think you are as shallow as a thimble.  That shocked her.  Hmmmm.

My husband is no longer surprised at some of the stuff that I get *me/him/us* involved in.  (Poor sweet adorable guy).  He says “You don’t surprise me, amaze, yes, surprise, no”.  I also have said for years that if I am ever injured or killed on a roadway, you can bet your sweet ass an animal had something to do with it.  Not so long ago, we were returning home, and in the distance I saw a small black dog who appeared (to me) to be unfamiliar or confused on the side of the road.  As we were riding by, I said “stop the car” (several fast times) … and as he slowed down (much to my husband’s horror) I jumped out… ran back and just as the dog was starting to walk into the roadway … I swept her up — (and yes, cars were coming on both on amaya and water sts. and I had a window of opportunity so I took it without hesitation). Dangerous – yeah – if that dog had been aggressive, I might have been hurt – but it wasn’t and we eventually found it’s owners and yes, it had been lost from quite a distance away while it was being cared for by a family member.  But the fact is, something has guided me my whole life.

This is all part of this divine inner voice that Socrates spoke of.  He said “… and it has stopped me in the very act of doing something if it was not for my greater good.”  — likewise, for me, if I don’t listen to it, the results are almost always bad.  I have come to respect the divine inner voice.  I have spent a lifetime of being in positions of doing something or doing nothing – where I had to make a choice – and I opted on behalf of animals, plants and sometimes, even people.  So far, so good.

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