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The Luminous Child

Fierce Loyalty to the Luminous Child

“You are mistaken, blind one. There is an immortal Child of Light who came into this realm before you and who will appear among your duplicate forms, in your simulated world. . . . Humanity exists, the root anthropos, and the offspring of the human strain exists. . . And in the consummation of all your works, its entire deficiency of truth will be revealed and dissolved by this luminous Child.”

John Lash metahistory.org quoting from the Nag Hammadi

Riley was supremely loyal, more so than any other dog we ever had.  Her recall was pitch perfect; even if she was chasing something and we called her, she would reel around and come straight back.  People used to admire this quality in London on the common, as though we had trained her so well.  We hadn’t, this was simply her expression of what was important to her.  Without the guiding framework of the Sophianic Narrative, Riley’s loyalty is just the ordinary loyalty of a dog to her pack and that is beautiful enough in itself.  The Story allows me to put the pieces together in such a way that it reveals the greater Beauty of her life and strengthens the canine-human bond, which is one of my aims in writing this blog.  In fact, it is due to living in the Story that I was able to experience a dew-drop sweet moment of shared awareness with Riley the day before she died, on the first anniversary of Dexter’s death.

A little background here:  I had always found it more difficult to ‘read’ Riley than our other dogs.  Dexter could always tell me what he wanted really clearly and I knew that I was helping him right up to the day he died.  (There were two phases in which he refused my help, one in London when a psychic helped us through and then again on the day he died.)  With Riley I was never that sure that I was helping her, or whether she was just pleasing me.  She always said she was fine.

On the 6th of August, Riley came with me when I went to the woods to talk with Dexter.  I still miss him, but the pain over his passing has gone and I now feel immense gratitude for having known him and especially for bringing us here, where we finally came to know the Wisdom Goddess.  I had an unresolved issue at the time of Dexter’s death and that issue was unconditional love.  People say that dogs are here to teach us unconditional love, but that never rang true to me.  I couldn’t get to what the issue was in the weeks and months after Dexter died and gradually forgot about it.  As I thought about it again, my unspoken question was answered in an unfolding of awareness that moved through me and Riley in split-second synchronicity.  Almost before I could hold the thought and with the closest shared mind connection we had ever had up to that moment, Riley got up, nuzzled me and walked away.  I felt as though I had finally grasped something important from her perspective.  Looking back, I realise that is when she knew she could leave.

This is what I heard in that moment:

“I give you dogs to always reflect your Beauty, even when you cannot see it yourselves.”

This was a message from the Aeon Sophia, transmitted via the love that burned between Riley and me.  Riley loved me and Dean because of her love for the luminous child that Sophia endowed in all dogs.

In the Gaia Mythos the luminous child is the pre-existent, pre-terrestrial emanation of the anthropos, the human animal, that is the seed for all our potential.  Our dogs always see and love this potential glowing in us.  To describe this as unconditional love is a failure to recognise love, because all love is unconditional, or else it’s not love at all.

Riley embodied a fierce love and loyalty to the luminous child she saw in us and she reflected that Beauty back at us, to her least breath.  She never faltered in her mission to ensure that we never forget that we are the Luminous Children of the Wisdom Goddess.  When your dog greets you with enthusiasm after a long day and wants to play, remember that this is not just because he/she loves you; she also sees all your potential in every moment.

Be the person

Goodbye Grandma

Tulku took Riley’s death hard too.  He tried to get her to play and pawed at her as she lay in her grave before we buried her.  He spent the whole of that day and most of the next sitting by her grave – heartbreaking.  He didn’t understand what had happened to Grandma and he was grieving.

He thought she had left because of something he had done or not done. He asked me: why didn’t she love him enough to stay?  Was he not big and strong enough?    Riley taught Tulku how to play without going for the jugular, which is his natural instinct.  He was a little shit winding her up so that she would growl and snap at him when she wanted to rest, and for him it was a great game.  He thought of her as a mate and for her he was a little whippersnapper to be knocked into shape if he was going to be Dexter’s successor, but they played hard together and loved it.

He is still confused and, just like Dexter was after Kiss died, reluctant to take on his new responsibilities.  He sat in the woods and watched us working in the food forest, ready to run down if needed, just like Riley taught him.  Then today, izzy took him off to play.  He is still just a year old and he will bounce back quickly.

The Death of Riley

Today, the day after the first anniversary of Dexter’s death, we lost Riley.  It was sudden and unexpected.  When I look back I can see that she seemed a little tired and that she wanted to lay outside on the earth, but I had no idea she was ready to go.  She got up easily this morning as she always did – she always seemed to want to go out for the morning walk so that she could get her breakfast after.  She loved her food.  This morning she ran and played, rough and tumbled with Izzy and Tulku as usual.  She deflected Tulku from bundling Izzy, as she always does and then they heard something and all three took off through the woods.

Tulku lost Izzy and Riley and came back to us and then went running off to find them.  About 10 minutes later Izzy and Riley came back and we sat in the woods for a bit and then headed back to the cabin.  Riley sat in front of the door on the verandah and felt a bit shaky. I asked her if she was OK and she said yes, as she always did and I went inside.  But she wasn’t alright.  Jon saw her keel over and called me out.  I held her as she tried to sit up again and soothed her and she died in my arms.  I tried to give her mouth to mouth for a few minutes as I felt her last gasps, but I knew it was her moment to go.

Riley was the most loyal dog we ever had; the most dedicated to reflecting our beauty back, as the Aeon Sophia told me in the woods yesterday.  She nuzzled me in that moment and left, looking back over her shoulder so poignantly, after I received that message.  It was as though her work was done.

She had also trained Tulku thoroughly; taught him how to play without having to win and how to be a bit gentle with Izzy.  Riley saw that we now have a pack, with Jon and Dorota, that we are safe and loved.  I think she wanted to join Dexter, who was the love of her life.

The timing of her passing is uncanny.  This is the signature of the love story that held these two beautiful creatures together.  Riley grieved for at least five weeks after Dexter died.  I think she would have gone there and then if we hadn’t got Tulku, although she wasn’t keen on him at first and we called her Grumpy Grandma.  He learned very quickly that it was easy to rile her up, but that she would never hurt him.  (More of that in Tulku’s Story.)   There was enough of Dexter’s thread in Tulku for her to keep a hold on her life at that time and her sense of responsibility kicked in; he needed to be trained to be Dexter’s successor and nobody could do it but her.  Ultimately, it was not enough to keep her here.  Her sense of longing for her mate grew stronger and she gently let go of the threads that kept her here.  I felt Dexter’s name on my lips with her last breath.

NB: I also got stung by wasps a couple of weeks ago, just like I did a couple of weeks before Dexter died.  So much still to learn.

 

Anniversary

Today is the first year anniversary of Dexter’s death.  I still miss him, but with a sense of gratitude for his life, rather than grieving for his death.

I went into the woods he loved and where I still felt his presence.  As the memories welled up with great tenderness, Riley comforted me, licked me and then left.  Tulku stayed next to me as I laid on the ground under the pine trees.  In that moment I learned that the loyalty of dogs, their unconditional love is not just to their owners, but to the idea of the Anthropos.  The Aeon Sophia dreams dogs into the world as an enduring reminder of Her love for us.

The Tulku Test

The Tulku tradition comes from Tibetan Buddhism.  The Tulku, most often a young child, is considered to be the reincarnation of a previously self-actualised and revered person – a ‘holy man’ within the Buddhist tradition. The logic behind the system is that an accomplished being reincarnates as a Tulku to continue the dissemination of knowledge from his previous lives.  As an accomplished being he is able to access experiences from previous lives, which are retained in his ‘mindstream’

We ordinary mortals are considered to be unable to access information from past lives because we are stuck in the cycle of rebirth according to the karma of our unenlightened lives.  Hindus get multiple rides the wheel of birth, death and rebirth too. But if you are a Christian, Jew or Muslim you only get one go, before getting ‘judged’ and summarily dispatched to eternal heaven or hell.  All religions have nicely constructed control mechanisms to make us follow a set of rules with the promise of reward or retribution after death. If there was no ‘after life’ of any kind they would have had to invent it, because there is no evidence of a consistent reward system for good behaviour or punishment for the horrors that many humans inflict on each other and other living creatures every day.

However, the tulku test provides some evidence of reincarnation. This is one description of how a tulku is identified:

“The identification of a tulku was portrayed in the film Kundun, where monks disguised as peasants arrived at the future Dalai Lama’s home when he was a child of three years old. The monks were following clues provided by the thirteenth Dalai Lama — dreams, or information provided by oracles to find candidate children. Once children are identified they are examined for special marks or signs and their parents interviewed in regards to their moral character. Finally, a test is provided where the young child must identify items that belonged to his predecessor, picking them out from similar items. If he can do this correctly, he will be designated a tulku.”

The Quest for the Dalai Lama by Arnie Kozak, Ph.D.

For hundreds of years tulkus were always Tibetan, but since the 1970s they have been showing up on the west. According to Andrew Rawlinson, a former lecturer in Buddhist Studies at Lancaster University in the UK, writing in Global Buddhism  there are now about a dozen fully recognised western tulkus. One result of this expansion is that what goes on in the monastery no longer remains in the monastery and credible accounts of sexual abuse and corruption are emerging from Buddhist citadels, just as they are from other religions. See Kalu Rinpoche’s story here:

What if there are many tulkus in the world, but we just haven’t known to look for them or recognise the signs? I don’t think the Buddhists have any monopoly on tulkus or reincarnation. We are all animals on this planet after all. Our puppy Tulku, also passed the tulku test. His predecessor Dexter, an enlightened master for sure, guided us to him when he was less than three weeks old and even gave us his name. Dexter didn’t have any possessions, being a dog, but on the first day after we brought him home, when he was 6 ½ weeks old, Tulku ran straight over to Dexter’s grave, grabbed a pebble and brought it to me and dropped it at my feet. A couple of weeks ago, Izzy lost her collar playing out in the food forest. I went went out there with Izzy, Riley and Tulku to look for it and I said to Riley, “Go find Izzy’s collar.” Riley started looking around, but she didn’t know what she was looking for and barely was the though formed in my head, “If Dexter was here……..” because Dexter was the finder. He would find lost balls on the common, lost keys, even lost souls it turned out.  And then Tulku ran up with the collar in his mouth.

But I was still grappling with the issue of how could Tulku here now be Dexter reincarnated, while I am still talking to the Dexter who was here? I asked Dexter to answer this question for me and he came up with the answer, “We all have doubles.”  I’ll be exploring that issue in a later post.

 

Message from the Other Side

One early morning in late October, Dean was out on the common with Kiss and I was enjoying a lie-in with Dexter, when I felt some one take my hand and lift me out of my body. I don’t know whether I was asleep or awake, or somewhere in between, but it didn’t feel strange or frightening at the time. This being, and I knew he was a man, took me high enough to see the curvature of the Earth and there we hovered. As he held my hand I felt everything he was feeling; warm sun and rain on my face, laughter, orgasm and I thought, “Wow, is this was it is to be dead?” And for a moment I wanted to stay there, before I realised what that meant and came crashing back to me bed.

I had the frantic urge to scribble something on a scrap of paper to hand, before my eyes could even focus. Then I woke up. Oh my God. I had just wished myself dead! Why had I done that? I knew something had happened. Something had changed forever and I didn’t know what it was.

Dean came home to find me in floods of tears.  That’s not like me.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just wished myself dead. Some one visited me.”

“Who visited you?”

“I don’t know. I think it was a dream, but it wasn’t.”

Dean understood ‘bad dreams’. I’d had terrible nightmares that woke me up screaming when we first met. He held me in his arms and I calmed down. Then I remembered the piece of paper.

“I wrote something down.”

I went to get the paper and scrutinized my illegible scribble – not great at the best of times. I explained to Dean what had happened and began to decipher the paper. It was clearly a poem, but it meant nothing to me.

As we sat there bemused, the phone rang, and instantly I knew what had happened. All the pieces came together like a holographic jigsaw puzzle and my mind was clear and silent. I had no doubts about what had happened and strangely, I had never felt more certain of anything in my life. It was our close friend Mandy on the phone and we had what must have been the strangest conversation of her life.

“Yolanda, something terrible’s happened. There’s been an accident and we can’t come to    your party.”

(We were having a birthday party for Dean in a couple of days.

“Mile’s best friend Greg died in a car accident in Cape Town last night.”

“Yes, I know.”

Silence. An audible intake of breath on the line.

“What do you mean you know? How do you know?”

“He visited me.”

“Who visited you? Greg? How could he have visited you? What do you mean?”

Her voice was getting squeaky and she was on the verge of getting angry and I had to spit it out.

“I can’t explain it Mandy. I have no explanation, but I have never been more certain of anything in my life; Greg visited me early this morning and he gave me a poem for Miles.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Said Mandy. “If it was anyone else apart from you I would tell them that they were full of shit and hang up. But why you? Why did he come to you?”

The only answer I had to that question was that I was the closest person to Miles who was open-minded enough to be able to receive the message.

We agreed that I would post the poem through their door later that morning and they could decide what they wanted to do. Mandy didn’t want Miles to get more upset than he already was and I assured her that I didn’t think the poem would do that. It was a message of comfort.

Miles and Mandy came to our party and Miles flew out the following morning to Cape Town for the funeral. He read the poem at the funeral and Greg’s mother came up to him after and asked him where the poem came from. Miles reluctantly told her. “Oh,” she said. “The same thing happened to me.”

This event threw me into turmoil; I had to abandon everything I thought I knew and start again.  A person who was dead had spoken to me very clearly. I had no doubt about that, no matter what my rational mind said. That feeling of knowing something with absolute clarity, that no one had told me and that I hadn’t perceived with my normal senses became my navigator. Within a couple of months I had left my job and begun my journey of exploration.

It was years before I realised that this event took place just a day or so after Dexter came to live with us. Did he open the door to the Other Side? More importantly, where exactly is this door?

Greg’s Poem

So here we are again my friend

Once more on distant shores

Beyond the reach of wire and web

My wandering is now done

 

I am here

My toes sink in the sand as

My gaze melts the snow on distant mountains

My fingers brush through the trees in winter

And you feel me in your shiver

 

And I know you are there

My light will burn forever in the rising of the sun and

The glow of exertion on your skin

You’ll hear my voice in the siren’s wail and

Feel my love in the smell of autumn

 

And share my song

Because I am everything and everywhere

At home in Heart’s desire

Horse Spirit

Today was a non-ordinary day.  I couldn’t get to sleep at all last night; I felt tired, but when I went to bed I wasn’t and laid for hours thinking and receiving.  Not stressing, just lots going on.  This morning I looked online for information about solar flares and there were several M class and one X class flares last night and today.  I experience these as they happen, as though my senses are heightened and more reality is perceivable, not just when the radiation reaches our atmosphere.  I’m sure this is the case for many other people.

Around mid-morning I started to update this blog.  The first post I wrote was about Entities and Grief and as I wrote the word “wagtail” a robin flew in the open cabin door. That’s never happened before, a bit unusual but possibly just a coincidence.  I finished that post and as I started to write this one and put together the slideshow with the photos of Oscuria a second bird, a wren this time, flew in the cabin.  She came right up to the desk where I’m sitting and then flew out the door.  What is happening with the birds today?

I was in a slightly heightened state, but there were things to get on with.  Around 2.30pm we sat down to lunch, when a car came up the track and Oscuria’s owner, Luis, got out and asked to see me.  He wanted to know if I could help his brother who has been depressed, paranoid and weighed down with grief and sadness for the past 10 years and he thought it was some bad energy.  What are the chances of that?  Especially given the experience I’d just had with Entities and Grief.  This is how the Dog Shaman works, working with the animals (and plants)  to bring the pieces together so they can be healed.  Luis said he would bring his brother by.

This  adventure began one morning in early June of this year.  We were walking back to the cabin when Dexter went on alert and headed to the woods next to our field.  He would not come back, which was usually only the case if he’d caught a whiff of a bitch in season, but this was a different kind of alert.  I went back after him and just as I got to him a horse walked out of the woods.

Dexter had a thing about horses. We used to walk sometimes on Wimbledon Common in London and we had to stop because he thought it was the greatest fun to chase the horses, but we didn’t think their riders would find it so amusing. We’d rented a holiday cottage in Cornwall before we left the UK and there was a horse in the field next door.  Dexter and the horse had the greatest game, as the horse would come up to the fence and whinny and snort at Dexter who would then chase it and the horse would run – but there was a fence between them and that morning there was no fence!

I grabbed Dexter and Dean grabbed Riley and we headed for the cabin, across the field and through the woods, but the horse just followed us.  She was very beautiful and well looked after and she followed us all the way home and wouldn’t leave.  Dexter was beside himself was excitement, Riley was scared and Izzie just barked and barked and the horse was as calm as anything.  She waited patiently outside the gate.

Dean thought he’d better go and ask around and see if anyone had lost a horse.  We had never seen a horse in the neighbourhood before.  He drove off and suddenly I started to feel really uneasy and tried to call him back, but he didn’t hear.  I tried to phone him, but no signal.  I was worried that the horse had tried to escape because she was unhappy and Dean was going to let her owners know where she was and she might not want that.  As it happened, Dean was just having a very unsettling experience with neighbours a kilometre away who seemed to be straight out of the Texas chainsaw massacre.  They had dogs chained up by wrecked cars and piles of junk machinery and when he asked them whether they’d lost a horse the guy came up to the car and made a throat cutting sign across his neck and told Dean, “Muertos porcos, seis.”  He checked his fingers to see if he was holding up the right number and said, “Chorizo muy rico.”  Dean got out of there and came straight home, but the dogs really bothered him.  That’s the only thing we don’t like around here, the way some people treat animals and dogs in particular.

We decided to have a chat with the horse and ask her what she wanted. She told us quite clearly she wanted something, nodding her head up and down vigorously when we asked, but we couldn’t figure out what it was.  She was so careful, standing outside the fence in the vegetable patch, but she never disturbed a thing.

A couple of hours later a guy came walking up the track looking for her.  He introduced himself as Luis and said that Oscuria had run away from his brothers place in the nearest village.  He didn’t say why she ran away, but she seemed happy to see him and they went off together.  Later he came back and brought us the hugest lettuces ever from his brother’s garden.

The next day, Marcos the barman told us that Luis had sold the horse to a man in Monforte because he couldn’t afford to keep her.  We wondered whether that was why she had come to us, because she didn’t want to go to Monforte, but Goddess knows we didn’t want a horse.  I liked the idea of going for nice rides through the countryside, but fencing in a field would be a huge expense and we really don’t want to own a horse. We worried about her for a while, but she communicated telepathically that she was fine.  Somehow we knew that we would see her again.

Today Luis asked me if I rode.  I used to, but I haven’t in many years.  Apparently he didn’t sell her and she is still at his brother’s place just up the track and he said I could ride her whenever I wanted.  I like the idea, but mostly I like the idea of seeing her again and working together in the invisible world.

Unusual encounters with animals are a signal to pay attention.  It’s as though we are suddenly tripped into a different reality in which life feels like a dream.  Which it is, of course!

 

Entities and Illness

By the beginning of March 2013 I was questioning everything.  Dexter was not getting better.  We kept looking for signs of recovery and focusing on any positive aspect of his health that we could find; that he still had a healthy appetite, that the sore lump on his wrist was healing and that his other lumps had mostly gone.  I focused continually on creating the reality of health and wellness for him and it was using all my energy – I was exhausted.

(I did not know at this time how to co-create with the Wisdom Goddess.)

A week into March Dexter went into steep decline.  Suddenly he couldn’t walk unassisted.  When we helped him up he collapsed after just a few steps.  He didn’t even want to go for a walk, for the first time ever, and the light had gone from his eyes.  He was in terrible pain and I couldn’t bear to hear the crunching of his hips when he tried to walk.  He wasn’t eating and hadn’t gone to the loo in days.  The constipation was a real concern.  We increased his pain medication (Previcox) to one a day and we were beginning to wonder whether it was the beginning of the end.  This was something we dared not speak of.  We shared the burden of that thought through worried glances – we didn’t want to say it out loud.

I still felt that I was missing something, but what?  How do you search for the unknown?

One sunny day, I called my friend Liz back in London.  I remember hearing a hawk calling over the ridge, but I couldn’t see it when I looked outside.

Liz always asked after Dexter’s health and her words are burned into my memory forever, “Are you sure it’s not an entity?”

Time stood still in that moment.  I hadn’t had much experience with entities, but I was aware they existed and I knew people I trusted who had encountered them.  Liz went onto say, “When Sparky’s spine sagged, it was always because of entities.  The animals take them on for us you know.”

I knew with absolute clarity that Dexter had entities and they needed to be cleared. I can’t explain how I knew, but I had experienced the clarity of knowing something that had not been acquired through my normal senses and I knew what it felt like.  I didn’t know what to do, or how to prepare, but I also knew in that instant that preparation was irrelevant.

Dexter was lying in the garden.  I went out to him and asked for help.  AA Raphael and Baba Ji showed up.  I addressed the entity and told it to leave and go to the Light, that it did not belong here.  Nothing happened and I kept on telling it to leave, doing the shouty-command thing with arms outstretched. Then Dexter started shaking and thrashing around and I told him that it was OK to let it go, but it wasn’t budging.  This carried on for five minutes or more and I didn’t know what to do and felt desperate.  Without thinking I just happened to glance up at the roof and there was a small white bird, the size of a sparrow but completely white, on the apex of the roof.  On seeing the bird I felt a wave of compassion for the entity and I knew it didn’t now where to go.  With great tenderness I told the entity that the bird would show it the way.  At that the bird flew off, Dexter laid down and the dogs next door stopped howling.  Then he got up on his own and walked around the garden and had a great big dump – four days worth!

Dean came home to find Dexter wandering round the garden and I told him what had happened.  I’m never sure what Dean thinks about these things, his experience of reality is so different to mine.  But he won’t deny that Dexter was clearly better and stronger.  However, he was still edgy about coming into the house and I felt in a way that I can’t explain that something wasn’t right.  It felt to me as though there was some heavy energy around the front of the house – the air felt thick and it made my head foggy.  It hasn’t been confirmed by other sources, but I described it as an energetic portal.  I felt it might be why Carlos next door was mad!

Working on instinct, I made a rattle and programmed the frequency for Forgiveness into my laser and went around all the doors and windows, corners and every room telling whatever was there to leave and commanding the portal to be moved into the sky.  When I finished I asked that it be sealed from eternity to infinity.  In that moment there was a flash of lightening and a great clap of thunder.  Dean witnessed the thunder and then Dexter was OK coming into the house.

I thought it was over, but that night Dexter would not lie down and sleep.  He kept crying and howling and wouldn’t let Dean lie down.  He would only be quiet if Dean was standing up next to him – clearly he didn’t want Dean to go to sleep.  I remembered his role as Anubis, the gatekeeper and I realised that something was attaching to Dean and Dexter was protecting him and letting us know in the only way he could that something needed to be done.  What needed to be done?

Working on some barely remembered instinct I went through a cleansing with Dean.  I told what was there to leave, but it wouldn’t go.  This energy seemed to be clinging onto him because of some flawed sense of connection, an illusion of relationship.  By acknowledging the relationship I managed to get it to move down to Dean’s feet and then I closed Dean’s chakras and broke the connection and convinced it to leave.  Immediately after, we both saw the tiniest, brightest rainbow ever, glowing in the field next door.  It wasn’t raining and the whole house felt different, lighter and cleaner.

That afternoon we met some neighbours who knew the previous owners and I asked them about the house’s history.  They told us that the son of the previous owner had committed suicide there a few years back.

After that, Dexter went from strength to strength.  His appetite and his life force returned and he enjoyed a glorious retirement after we moved to our new home in May of that year.  I think Dexter would have died in that rented house if I hadn’t been able to free him from the entity and I suspect that happens to more people than we might think.  These ‘lost’ energies are everywhere.  I think of them as memories and energetic interference that gets left behind in the trauma of death.  (The template for this was set up when the Aeon Sophia plunged from the pleroma and unintentionally created the archons.)  Some of these energies are malevolent, if the living person they had been part of was evil, while others are just lost or confused.  I suspect that when people do everything possible to recover their health when they have a chronic illness and they don’t get better, that it might be because they have an invasive energy feeding on them.  We are not meant to get sick and die from these diseases like we do.

The key symptom of entity attachment with Dexter was sudden collapse.  He would be walking along, seemingly normal, and suddenly his legs would give way and he would fall to the ground face first – it was awful to see.  It didn’t happen so much after we moved to the finca, because we are off the beaten track and we hardly see any people.  But it did happen on occasion.  It finally dawned on me that he was attracting the entities so that I could send them on their way.  Not evil entities, just lost souls.  So we carried on doing this whenever necessary for the rest of his life.

In October 2014, I thought we’d adjusted reasonably well to Dexter’s death, but I gradually became overwhelmed with tremendous grief an sadness.  Even Tulku couldn’t cheer me up.  Yesterday we saw a white bird on the roof here and I suddenly questioned whether I had attracted and entity.  How could I clear it without Dexter?

 

doggiesingardenxmas2012Dex, Riley, Izzy Pousadela