I was asked to be a guest columnist for a dear friend’s blog…….here is my article.
She Was The One Who Was Meant For Me
(Note: We welcome guest columnist Shirl Knobloch, a writer and an institutive medium who works with animals. She longed for an Irish Wolfhound for years. Her hopes were dashed once, but then the soul companion that her heart called came into her life. She talks here of life with Aura Lee…)
By SHIRL KNOBLOCH
I am a friend of Bob’s and fellow wolfhound guardian. I don’t use the word owner, though all of us with wolfhounds know we are owned by them, lock, stock, and barrel. These beings are not our dogs; they are our soul companions. If one believes in recurring lifetimes, then one must believe we travel in certain soul groups or circles. There is a longing inside us to connect with these soul companions.
I have always longed for a wolfhound.
For years, I kept a photo of one taped to my refrigerator. When I was younger, there were excuses….the house was too small, the children were too little, wolfhound lives were too short. Then, with the passage of time, one realizes that life is indeed short and unfulfilled longings weigh on the heart. So my heart went in pursuit of one of these beings.
I live on the side of the pond where wolfhounds are not as prevalent and easy to obtain. I spent a year waiting on a promised baby, a wheaton colored male, only to have my heart broken when told there wouldn’t be one for me. Then, the soul companion came. The one meant, the one waiting those recurring lifetimes to find me again. She was a brindle girl, exactly like the one staring at me from my refrigerator door, every single day. She was the one my heart called, not the wheaton boy. She was the one who came to answer my heart.
There were many nay sayers. I was warned about their size, about their aggressiveness, about their prey drive. I had a home filled with tiny Pomeranians. My vet warned, “You do know they don’t live long.” Friends warned my other dogs would not be safe. Nothing deterred me. I brought this tiny girl home, sitting on my lap and in no time, she grew like ivy entwined about my heart.
Never have I worried so much about a dog. Never has the needs of a dog taken such precedence over my own wants and schedule. What to feed, when to feed, when to let them run, when to let them rest, you will search every article and blog and medical post on the internet. I have bloat procedures and acupressure points posted on my fridge now.
Never has a dog shown such human emotions. Never has a dog needed, not wanted, to be with her family. Never have eyes not just looked at me, but looked into me. These dogs cannot be parted from loved ones. They belong by your side; if not allowed to be, the sadness and stress can result in physical ailments. Never has one sulked with such hurt at being reprimanded for stealing a sandwich off the counter. And steal food they will. You will have to baby proof your home, or wolfhound proof it.
I have been extremely lucky. I have seen the damage some cause. If you bring one home, you may have to lose a sofa, not just some sofa pillows. My little ones are all gone now but my Aura Lea never showed one minute of aggression toward any of them. She is gentle with my grandchildren and tolerates times when their not so gentle hands may push her away. She likes to get up in your face, her favorite time usually when her beard is dripping with drool or water. Your lap will seldom be dry, your sofa will never be empty; but your heart will always be full.
Even at the cost of a sofa, there is no price one can put at possessing the love of these of these gentle, giant beings. There is a bond only another wolfhound guardian understands; if you are meant to know it again in this lifetime, you will. Lifetimes separate our hearts, but new lifetimes bring us together once again; that is the strength of the human wolfhound bond.
From “Strength of a Lion, Soul of a Lamb”
— Shirl Knobloch
Eyes to hunt a wolf
Take down a human heart
A heart is lost
Given without fight
To eyes that wield
Than a sword
Eyes that see
What others miss
Through years of knowing
Seen in seconds
The colors of one’s soul
Eyes that feel
What has been hidden
Eyes that link
Two other eyes
Not for a lifetime
But for eternity
Time has no meaning
All that was
Shirl works as an author and artist, sharing her home with a pack of beings, from two teeny mice to one not so tiny Irish Wolfhound. She has written many collections of fairy tales as well as memoirs of her work with animals as a Intuitive Medium. You can read her blog, The Roses and Thorns of Life, here.