(Thursday, August 16, 2018, Deloris Sheehan funeral)
Strength is the tarot card I pull in the morning.
Dream 1: Dogs
Traveling on Highway 61, along the bluff edge between Lake City and Wabasha, I spy two large, spindly-legged creatures crossing the road ahead of my car. At first I think they are deer. One is brown, but the other is black. They are Great Danes! The Fastenal truck that has been behind me since Hastings pulls to the shoulder, and I do too. When I get out of my car I see a third dog struggling to keep up with the Danes. It’s a Bassett Hound! Now I am terrified. No driver will see that ground-hugging canine.
All of the vehicles stop when the truck driver and I run out onto the highway, in spite of the blind curve along Lake Pepin. The young man grabs the two dogs that have collars, the Bassett and the brown Great Dane. I coax the uncollared black dog: “Come here honey, c’mon sweetie.” And he does. A woman creeps past us on the other side of the road, yelling out the window about where the dogs live. Then she drives off. I ask the trucker if we can put the dogs inside his van. He agrees and tells me to open the rear door. The friendly, freaked-out dogs jump inside.
Both of us humans are so panicked we don’t register clearly the instructions about where to take the dogs. All I remember is “second driveway.” Trucker wants to trust my instincts, though, so I hop in my Ford and he follows me.
My distorted memory says that the driveway we are looking for is on the left, but all of the driveways are on my right. Now I realize they were to the snappy woman’s left.
I turn into the second driveway, up the steep dirt road. I see a house to my left. There is a dog inside of a gate on the deck, which makes me think that place cannot be where the escapees come from. I drive to the top of the hill, to a second property. It is obvious no one is home.
The two of us get out of our vehicles. The young man says he was surprised his truck made it up the bluff. I feel bad about that. We decide to to go back to the first house to find out if the residents know where the three amigos dwell.
When we pull up, the old dog behind the gate barks. We stand looking at him, and notice that his collar matches the other two collars. Aha! Then we see a flimsy second gate that is trampled, cracked open wide enough for doggies to slip through. Our eyes meet in relief.
We schmooze with the grey-haired pooch for a bit and he lets us in the gate. I knock on the door. Ring the bell. Eventually a man answers. He is indeed the negligent papa of the roaming pups: thank god! The young man and I smile at each other. I honor him with namaste prayer hands then climb into my car, heading back to Highway 61.
Dream 2: Eagles
I leave work Wednesday afternoon, focusing on my time to come with family at my aunt’s funeral in Kellogg on Thursday. Deloris worked for many years at Wabasha-Kellogg High School. The National Eagle Center is in Wabasha. As I cross the 494 bridge over the Minnesota River, I see a huge bald eagle perched on a lone dead tree, high over the valley. Truly an omen, a blessing from the spirit realm. I recognize it as such immediately.
The closing funeral hymn on Thursday at the St. Agnes Catholic Church in Kellogg is about eagles “soaring high.” As my father, mother, sister and I step out of the church, an eagle circles overhead. No one but me sees it. Why?
On the drive home, as I pass by the town of Wabasha, I reminisce on the post-ceremony conversation with my girl cousins at my aunt’s farmhouse on a bluff above Snake Creek. We want to get together and begin recording family stories. I don’t know why, but I muse on confessing to them about my mystic side. I feel Charlene would enjoy that disclosure, and possibly share that aspect of herself. Another eagle sails across the sky, above my windshield. Confirmation!
Dream 3: Cat
Most of Deloris’ great grandkids are under the age of four. At the farmhouse they keep scooping up a huge tom named Jerry. They drag him around the yard, his long body hanging from their arms, sometimes upside down. He never hisses, yells, scratches or bites any of the babies. Surrealistically serene.
Dream 4: Horses
I park by a barn at my aunt’s and pat the nose of a gorgeous tan horse who is standing at the open door.
Day notes:
The Strength tarot card often has an image of a lion and a woman coexisting peacefully.
A memorable time at Glastonbury was when I worked on my “Love For The Animals” theme. A graceful brown dog walked into the ceremony as I shared my wish, my passion, with our mandala. The second dog at Earth Spirit Centre was black. Interesting that the uncollared Great Dane is black, like Black Wolf Romeo, whom I first dreamt of in England. After Deloris’ interment, we visited the graves of my godmother and my uncle, Marguerite and Richard Wolfe, at St. Mary’s Cemetary in Minneiska.
I opened my Wisdom Ways fall catalog to find there is a presentation on October 11 called “Celtic Saints and Animal Stories: a Spirituality of Holiness.”
”But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the air, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you.” — Job 12
Lovely, lovely. How nice of you and the young man to get the dogs home. I love the visits from the eagle. You see the eagle because the eagle sees you. A funeral of an old matriarch/patriarch seems more like a time of celebration. A focus on what is important: family especially.