Talking to animals

Kittens from yesterday's clinic

A deer who communed with me as I left for yesterday's clinic

A critter that spoke with me this week

White rabbit on my hillside.

The bird who talks to me.  Its nest is under that eave.

One of our recent conversations.

I love animals.  I always have.  I am blessed to be able to try and help critters with some of what I do in my daily life.

I am not an animal whisperer.  Hell, I cannot even communicate successfully with most humans, much less other living creatures.  But every day, I am in contact with all kinds of critters, and the contact I have with species outside of my own is very special.

Along the road I drive to get to my home in a tiny rural town, there are feathered critters I call "Surfing birds."  I am not a birder, and know nothing about identifying specific kinds of birds.  But since moving here in '92, my kids and I discovered that every spring, a weird thing starts to occur.  A certain kind of bird would swoop down in front of our vehicle and fly in front of it for awhile, then fly away.  This occurs throughout spring and summer.  The birds seem to have a Swallow-type shape, but are smaller than the Swallows I can identify.  After about three years of witnessing this strange behavior, I recognized something familiar about what they were doing:  they were catching, and then gliding on, the wind currents that sweep up the front of cars.  These birds were riding wind waves.  I have ever since called them "Surfing birds," and I truly believe they behave this way for the simple pleasure of it, as it serves no other purpose I can see.  I have never found proof of this in literature or online, but because I have witnessed this phenomenon faithfully for the past 24 years, I am quite sure it exists.  Some birds know how to use the creation of cars to hang ten.  I love it when they choose to surf my car.

A couple of days ago, a praying mantis spent time on my hand, looking at me whenever I spoke, and joining in with me as I surveyed the fields and trees around us.  We spent about 6 minutes together. 

Two herons used to fly over my home, back in the early '90's when I first moved here.  They flew over our place often, specifically on some days that were especially hard for me, and this brought me some comfort.  A few years later, the female of this pair was shot by someone on the river walkway in town.  After that, the male would sometimes fly over my home, on his own, in heartbreaking solitude.  His flights became a kind of prayer for me, a prayer for my children, and a prayer for him.  I do not know exactly what he was feeling as he flew over alone, but I'm quite sure he grieved the loss of the one who once flew beside him.

Two birds built a nest under my back eave this spring.  One of them started to "talk" to me on a regular basis.  This continued throughout the incubation and raising of the birds' offspring.  I would step outside, and this bird would whistle, and wait for my response.  Then we would talk.  I recorded some of our "conversations" on my phone.  Now that this bird's babies are raised and gone, the nest has been vacated, and we no longer have daily conversations, but the bird does come back once in awhile, and speaks with me. 

A couple of weeks ago, I was present for the last moments on earth of a cat who has meant the world to me the past few years.  I spent time with this cat often, and talked to her a lot, even though she was deaf.  I knew her eyes heard me.  She was a beloved member of a beautiful family, and it was a simple quirk of fate that brought us together as she passed on.  There was a moment, soon before her passing, where she and I awaited the test results that would decide her fate, and her head suddenly leaned against my arm, and rested.  That moment will forever remain in my mind, a connection that surpasses words.  

Early this past Sunday morning, a white rabbit appeared on my hillside.  I wanted to get close enough for a good picture, but I did not.  The rabbit was back that evening.  I wish this rabbit luck, as it survives the rural area where we live. There are plenty of coyotes who would find this rabbit easy to spot at night in our terrain, and make a quick meal of such a critter. 

I am blessed to drive transports of cats to a spay/neuter clinic in a nearby state.  During the loading of the van, I do not get a chance to meet every cat, but once on the road, there are often certain cats who start to vocalize.  I respond to each of them, and get to know their voices.  Once we arrive and unload, I start to get to know the many furry souls who just spent time with me on the road.  I also get to connect the various voices I had communed with to the faces that go with the specific voices I just spent road-time talking to.  I love these trips, and the talks I am blessed to experience.  I cherish getting to know these beings, in both pre- and post-op.  I just finished one of these trips a few hours ago.

My communication with creatures thought of as "animals" means more to me than I can put into words.  I am thankful, every day, for these beings.  I would give anything to see humans learn to communicate with each other as well as some animals have communicated with me.  The world would experience much less violence.