Our dog Aspen wasn’t eating. Wouldn’t touch her kibble.
Synchronistically, I saw an ad on youtube with Rob Lowe talking about the evils of kibble and was like, “That’s it! It’s the kibble!”
I started making her food from scratch - really good food. Food I would eat.
It worked. For a minute.
Then she started turning up her nose to even that - kept getting more and more finicky. Oy.
This went on for quite a while.
Then one Sunday in July I wasn’t feeling best ever after dinner. I had made a delicious meal we all love and eat often. I wondered if something had gone bad. But my Chickens and my HH felt fine.
Hmmmmm.
On Tuesday we grabbed some yummy Vietnamese food from a place in PVD after picking up our Chickens from an ICERM math camp at Brown. I was sooooo excited for this food, so hungry, and happily scarfed it down in the car en route home.
Again, I felt not best ever after the meal. Like ew in my stomach. I thought of the chicken in the salad I’d had - specifically of the chicken - and felt even more ew.
“Oh noooo,” I thought. “No, no, nooooo. Not again,” realling when I was in high school in Calabasas, California and ate an In-n-Out burger, felt this way, and didn’t eat meat again until I was pregnant with my first chicken at age 32. I knew I was pregnant when I found myself scarfing down sliced turkey in the kitchen.
Okay, back to present time (not Calabasas). The night after the Vietnamese food ew experience, after eating hamburgers at family dinner which I’d made - usually my fave, I felt ew, again.
I asked my higher mind to please give me a sign. Was this what I thought it was?
The next day my HH and I were on an early morning date walking around Federal Hill in Providence and I looked up and saw a huge sign (an actual 3D sign above a butcher) that read:
“Choose your chicken before we kill it.”
Yes, it really said this.
I started crying. My HH hugged me and lead me to our car.
The multiverse is never subtle.
After “the sign incident” I cried during my meditation for a few days, thinking about how animals are treated. While I was crying during the meditations, each of my three boy chickens came into the room in which I was meditating to “look for Frankie” (our rescue kitty). They came in one at a time and while doing so, snuck a glance at me, filled with concern.
When my third son came in to “look for kitty,” I knew I needed to address the tears. “I’m okay. I’m just sad about the animals,” I reassured.
“Are we gonna be raw vegan again?” he asked, clearly alarmed.
“No,” I replied immediately - firmly and honestly. Phoenix (age 19) was harkening back to the 7 years during which our family was raw vegan.
My response reflected that this had nothing to do with anyone except myself. I had received guidance on a few levels to shift my eating in a way that feels aligned - for me.
I love to cook and cook all foods for my five chickens and HH. I now choose to only buy meat and eggs raised on farms where the animals are treated ethically and kindly. I did the research and am a stickler.
As I cook I thank the beings who gave their lives in service so my family may be nourished. Sometimes I cry a little too. And that’s okay. “The circle of life,” I remind myself, as I honor them.
What does this have to do with our dog Aspen?
Well, I have been eating vegan now for 11 months and guess what - Aspen now eats her kibble - with joy.
Coincidence?
There are no coincidences. Everything is an orchestration.
Aspen was reflecting me back to me in her own way. Dogs are mirrors for us.
I have had clients whose dogs got sick to show them something. I have had clients whose dogs got depressed to teach them something.
Aspen stopped eating to show me something. To reflect me back to me.
Message received.
Important note: I am not proselytizing any type of eating regime. I celebrate and honor every being in the multiverse eating what aligns with them. This blog reflects a personal belief only. My intention with the blog is to elucidate how our dogs are magical spiritual partners, mirroring us back to ourselves. We were raw vegan for 7 years and stopped on a dime when our babies were one-year-old. My book covers this in a chapter called, “Why We Stopped Being a Label.” If you’re interested in learning more, click the “My Book: Chapter Summaries” link above where you’ll find a short audio summary.
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