Devi as Bast
Well, for a hot minute I thought I had my first transgendered cat, but alas no ... Devi is now officially a boy.
What with the vet and all the techs scratching their collective heads, no one was sure what Devi was gender-wise. I chuckled to myself thinking of all those gender bending aspects of the Hindi gods.
But finally the vet lifted s/he up and declared, "Uh, no ... that there is a penis!" It was very funny and troubling all at once. It seems most of Devi's equipment is still tucked up in his abdomen and .. on top of it all ... is very very small.
I will pause for the irony to affect those closest to me .... and send them to the bathroom ... better now? Okay, now back to our story.
Devi, however, was no shirker in giving the vet a run for his money .. ur, I mean MY money. Between the Calico Diety and the aforementioned drag queen, Devi Bast, not one but two techs had to be called in to give them their meds.
I feel a lot less incompetent now. If it was hard for them, I am none to shabby having to deal with them on my own.
I forget sometimes how this illness can make a person feel feeble.
So shots all around, a good ear cleaning for the s/he devil and off we go to get mama a donut.
I decided I deserved something for all the tussling I endure just getting them both into the car.
Then an uneventful drive home. This is good considering the black helicopters hovering overhead with sirens blaring all over Maryland's campus as I drove past on the way to the vet.
A quiet sip of tea, a favorite incense and some quiet music ... ahh!
blessings to you all,
K
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sweet! :-)
You are usually able to annunciate what I do not have words for. Thank you!
Much love,
-Eridanus
INTJ here. I hear what you are saying.
"what is remembered, lives". It was with sadness that I read of Wilma Mankiller's passing. She won't be forgotten.
"...Weaver, Weaver weave this thread, whole and strong into your web...Healer, Healer, heal our pain...In love may she return again..."
While student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, I became friends with Carl Rogers, who was respected as one of the leading psychotherapists of his time. He taught me much about the art of listening.
Dr. Rogers said that when we listen, and people know we are listening, it shows we truly care about them. In turn, they will respond by caring about you. It opens communication and also opens hearts. When we accept them as a person, unconditionally, they will be more kind to you.
We should listen without preconceptions, without anticipation and without judgement if we want others to portray what they truly feel. We listen with all our senses, not just to the words which are said. Some people cannot fully express themselves while speaking, so we must try to see them as they see themselves. We should watch for non-verbal clues as to what they really mean: facial expressions, body movements, etc.
While we should show positive regard for the other person, we should also demonstrate our own positive self-regard. We do not react to their negative comments, verbally or physically, even when we disagree with them. When they do ask for our opinion, however, we should respond with our true thoughts and in specifics rather than generalities. We offer our own perspective as other options rather than as contradictions.
Listening might seem quite passive as opposed to speaking. It is actually very active. To paraphrase Bobby Kennedy, “I learn while listening. When I talk I don’t learn too much.” If you think talking helps to spread your own wisdom, you are not really wise.