The Lucy Prophesy

The veil is thinning.  Well, it's always pretty thin around here but in the past few days and in the coming days our beloved dead are closer than ever. I don't usually receive direct messages but I do feel the unease, the thinness, the liminal time.  Sometimes it is disconcerting, but mostly is feels comfortable and welcoming. 

Last year when Ringo died, a heart appeared in our stone fireplace.  When I looked up from his dying breath there it was.  Right in front of me, plain as day and impossible to miss.  I don't know that I believe that the stones rearranged themselves in the moment of his transition, but I do know it was suddenly and clearly present. I have been looking at those rocks for a decade and had never seen it.  At the time it felt like a gift, a small tangible part of Ringo that would stay here in the house where he died. Looking at that wall now, it is obvious.  It cannot be unseen.  Ringo died in April, another liminal time of year when Winter is giving way at last to Spring.

This last May we brought Lucy home.  When we met her I knew I liked her (well, really, I like every dog), I knew she was a good dog.  I did not know how well she would fit into her family and close that hole that Ringo left.  She really is the most good dog for us.   Just a few days ago I was taking off her harness and I saw that she has a heart on her side.  She is a dog who wears her heart on her sleeve, she's all in, all the time.  I know that hearts are an organic shape, I know her fur did not realign itself to match Ringo's heart  in the wall.  Still it feels like a message a sending from the other side of the veil.  I'm ok. Your ok.  This dog was meant for you.