Throughout most of my forty-two years IÕve often wondered what my purpose was in life. I had what I considered a ÒnormalÓ childhood that consisted of the then typical family of four; mother, father, older brother and myself. If ever there were extremely hard times I was not aware of them. However, IÕm beginning to realize that when there were difficult situations I think I tended to accept them for what they were and moved on and occasionally that may have meant ignoring the situation. Whether that was good or bad IÕm not sure, but I donÕt feel IÕm any worse off.

One turning point in my life as a child (about six years of age) came when I was watching a New York Yankees baseball game with the rest of my family. I was sitting on my Dads lap and for no reason at all began crying. I had been thinking about death and realized that when one died, that was it, the end, nothing more existed beyond that point. It seemed sad, lonely and scary. Both my parents reassured me there was more to it, that heaven existed and that was one reason it was important to be a good persosn.

As a very small child I spend quite a bit of time in and out of the hospital with high fevers. Sometimes being packed in ice but never knowing the cause of the fevers. I donÕt remember these times but have been told about them.

Throughout my childhood we, as a family, did a lot of moving within the midwest. My father worked for a company that kept us on the move. I did not view this as a problem, quite the contrary I enjoyed it. I would always make a few friends (maybe I should say acquaintances) but never took the chance to become Òbest friendsÓ or extremely close with any one person. At one point in high school a friend who I went to school functions with told me that she had known me for six months but it seemed like she had met me only

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recently as she felt she knew nothing about me. I shrugged it off

and said there wasnÕt much to know about me. Not long after that my father was transferred to another state where I attended a new high school.

A couple of things I have always loved dearly are animals and older people. How it came about, I donÕt know. But there has always seemed to be a special connection held between myself and animals. As a child, (and it holds true today) I found it very difficult to kill an insect. If I find one in the house I tend to scoop it up and take it outside. My parents werenÕt real big on having animals around the house. Dogs were totally forbidden. I was allowed to have a cat occasionally, but never more than one at any one time. I loved them dearly and talked to them constantly. I would treat them as an equal and never considered that they may not know what I was saying.

Animals always held a special place in my heart. And although I talked about becoming a veterinarian I donÕt think I every really considered it. It seemed more important to me to help people in one way or another and one of those ways was showing how animals can love so unconditionally.

Older people have always been important to me also. I think I have always enjoyed the company of older people more than people my own age, I enjoy talking to them and revealing myself more to them than I would to a peer. Several times I considered going into counseling of geriatrics. ItÕs not that I feel sorry for the older generation, but certainly feel they tend to be a forgotten group who has a great amount to offer.

While attending college in Kansas I worked in the geriatrics ward of a local hospital. The 3:00 pm to 11:00 pm shift that I worked was normally a fairly quiet time as once dinners and early evening rituals were complete, the patients went to sleep. Of course it goes without saying that while working in a geriatrics ward you will at one time or another be faced with death. It was a sobering experience when the night nurse told me for the first time that in one of the patientÕs breathing you could hear the Òdeath rattleÓ and that patient needed to have someone sit with them until they passed on that night. I canÕt say it didnÕt effect me, but I took it as part of the job and felt it extremely important that a dying person have someone with them at the end. I thought (and still believe) there could be nothing more lonely than dying alone. Although I never did see the spirit leave a dying person there was an aura of peace that surrounded the individual at the time of death.

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Once I graduated from college and moved to California I couldnÕt wait to have a house full of animals. When my husband-to-be and I met in Fresno, I knew he was special because of the cat who owned him. Most men arenÕt real fond of felines. Fortunately (or unfortunately) my husband has the same feelings for animals that I do and we are real suckers for the strays that find and adopt us. But more on my interaction with animals later.

One of the ÒfeelingsÓ I had began when two years into our marriage I became pregnant and the doctor and I disagreed on the due date. However, with my faith in my doctor, and me not listening to my Ògut feelingsÓ (so to speak), I went along with his speculation. Although I was being treated for medical problems during the pregnancy I felt there was something else wrong but could not put my finger on it. When my doctor told me he was going on vacation for a month but assured me he would be back in time for the scheduled C-section the first part of September I knew better. I tried to explain to him again that I felt the baby would be born the first week of August and he patted me on the shoulder and said everything would be OK. August eighth came and with it a stillborn baby girl during an emergency C-section. I wanted to be awake during the surgery because I had such high expectations that there was one small shred of hope that she could be save, but the doctors wouldnÕt allow it. I never did get to see my daughter and feel that was a real hindrance in the recovery and death process. I feel a funeral would have been a closing that would have helped. When I left the hospital three or four days later I not only felt sorry for myself but also for my husband. Because my parents where there to take me home, my husbands boss did not think it important for my husband to be there and therefore would not give him the time off. When I left that hospital I felt I left behind someone that I could never ever see again. As the years go by I canÕt say it actually gets easier but there is a part of me that knows I will indeed get to see that baby another time.

Another Òphysician experienceÓ that I had came about a couple of years ago when I asked my general physician it were possible that I could have gallbladder problems. I had no specific reason to question this and I had not had any symptoms. But to put my mind at ease the doctor ordered ultrasound and found a number of gall stones that required surgery within a two week period. He couldnÕt believe I hadnÕt had any symptoms.

As I mentioned earlier, animals are a very special part of me. They cannot speak for themselves other than to give their undying love to humans. And if they are a wild animal they give that love in a beauty that the human should enjoy. ItÕs just that some humans must be taught how to notice and enjoy it.

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In the mid-eighties I was given the opportunity to foster two sets of three barn owl babies who had been orphaned. They were the most God-ugly little critter I had ever seen. And yet they were the most beautiful and unique wild animal I had ever come in contact with. My job was not to make pets of them, but to feed them as their mother would have with as little human contact as possible, with the goal in mind to eventually take them to a flight cage and prepare them to be released to the wild where they could fend for themselves. Their diet consisted of frozen baby chicks that had been culled from a local chicken plant and donated to the cause. As the owls got older and began to grow feathers, their cries for food when they were hungry was truly awesome. The time that they spent in our enclosed patio was a time when our yard was void of squirrel, smaller birds and other wildlife. When they got to a certain point in life it was time for them to go to the flight cage in the foothills about twenty miles away, as the crow flies. They spent the next couple of months learning how to fly and catch food for themselves. A storm was approaching a few months later and my husband and I were outside enjoying the incoming lightening show (we donÕt get much lightening or storms for that matter, in Fresno and I miss the midwest type weather). As we were looking up in the sky there was a flash of lightening and we both thought we saw an owl fly overhead. We had never seen owls in our neighborhood prior to this. Shortly after that we heard the unmistaken screech of an owl. A telephone call the following day informed us that ÒourÓ owls had been released to the wild just a couple of days before. For the next couple of years we heard and saw them quiet often. More often than not it seemed to occur right before a storm. There are fewer visits now, but we still do hear them occasionally, with last night being the most recent. There was a connection and bonding there that more people should be able to experience.

On an April morning in 1993, 10:00 a.m., I was at work when an awful, foreboding feeling came over me. We lease eight acres about ten miles from our home and we own a few pleasure horses that we keep on the acreage. My mare was due to foal any day and my thoughts were that something was drastically wrong. My husbandÕs business takes him around the area of our horses, so I called and asked him to check on my mare for me. He reported back that everything was fine. It wasnÕt until we got home that evening that we found out one of our indoor cats had gotten out and was killed by the neighbors doberman about 10:00 a.m. that morning.

In June of 1993, our groomer called to see if we would be interested in adopting an eight year old long haired Chihuahua who had previously had only one owner, a man in his seventies. This man had recently died with the dog by his side and she had nowhere to go. Although we had never owned a

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small dog I had been thinking of getting one but had procrastinated because I didnÕt know where to begin to look. This seemed to be the right time and so we added to our zoo, little Millie. Keep in mind Millie was an only pet in a one person home and she came to a home with six cats, two large dogs, several finch and three bunnies (not to mention the four horses she would be introduced to at a later date). It took Millie about a week in our house before she took charge and put everyone in their place.

About four months after acquiring Millie, I took her in the front yard late one night just before going to bed. Because of my past experience with dogs I expected her to stay with me and obey me if I called out after her. When she saw a cat across the street that was it and she took off after it. She was hit by a driver in a pick up truck who never saw her. I had been with her just before she had been hit and I was the one to pick her up. I held her and talked to her as my husband drove us to the veterinary emergency. At emergency it was determined she had several cracked ribs and she was to stay in the hospital overnight so they could try to keep her from going into shock. She was given a 50 - 50 chance for survival. When I went home and went to bed I visualized a scared and shaken little dog in her cage. I felt so close to her and I knew she was feeling all alone and abandoned, first by an owner of eight years and now by me. I laid in bed all night ÒtalkingÓ to her, telling her it would be all right. That it was important for her to try very hard to relax, to sleep, that she was going to be sore but eventually she would get better and that I would see her in the morning. After several hours I could feel relief and relaxation from Millie and I fell asleep for a coupld of hours. I woke up in time to pick her up and take her to my regular vet just as they opened. Millie was very sore but was on the road to recovery. Since that time the two of us have come so much closer. I feel the communication between us the night she was in the hospital helped save her life.

Although so many experiences in my past have been forgotten I am hoping that in taking this class and others to follow, it will assist me in recalling some of them. Also, by taking this class it is forcing me to take note of experiences as they happen and become more aware of them. I look at the above written experiences and think they are so minute, but hope with proper training I can expand my experiences and use it to help other individuals.