I am always amazed at how messages arrive from the Universe. Spirit uses all channels to get the point across. Even our rescue kitty, Little Bear.

Until Little Bear, all of our cats were indoor/outdoor. They had their share of injuries; we decided Little Bear would be an indoor kitty. He seemed fine with the arrangement . . . for a couple of years. Then he started to be curious about what the outside held. So we got a harness and leash and let him know that if he wanted to go outside in Nature, he would have to get used to and wear the leash and harness. We had never taken a cat out with a harness, but it seemed possible (according to the marketing, anyway).

Little Bear has a temper and can be very stubborn. At first he resisted us dressing him in this contraption – he likes to be au natural – but he understood the contract (he’s brilliant, of course) and allowed us to put the bright yellow harness on him and attach the leash – thus, becoming the BumbleBear as he looked like a little round bumble bee with his black fur.

Little Bear loves to go outside. You know what he likes to do? Nothing. He likes to meditate. He walks a couple of feet under the deck and stops and sniffs and communes with Nature. He walks a little bit on the slope that goes down to the woods next to the creek, but just a few feet . . . and stops and observes. He just takes it all in. He doesn’t need to explore, or move fast, or hide . . . he just likes to be. We may spend half an hour and he may move a couple feet here, a few feet there. If he gets scared, he runs right back into the house.

Many, many years ago, I had a little rescue dog named Boone. We literally rescued him from a ditch on the side of a country road in Northern California. I would walk with him every day on the beach, in the woods, in the redwood forest. We went everywhere. He was my constant companion. When he died, my therapist asked me how was I going to create that time for myself that Boone provided every day when we took our walks? Rather glibly, I dismissed the question. That wouldn’t be any problem, I thought then.

As I stand or sit in quiet meditative companionship with Little Bear during the day or under the night sky, I remember those times when it seemed like I was doing something for my little dog, and it was at least as much for me. I had forgotten what it felt like to be with another being, who was his wise, authentic True Self every moment. He isn’t capable of being anything else. Little Bear is happy to just be, soaking up the present moment. His little round body belies his immense Loving Spirit that soaks up all that Life has to give in each moment, fills up with it, and spills it over to me. Just by being.

Spirit shows me the way again, through all of Life, all of Love, and Little Bear.