Saturday, July 26, 2025

ANIMAL MEDICINE CARDS: Tapping into the Spirit-That-Moves-In-All-Things

    Have you tested your natural affinity with the magic of Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through the Ways of Animals? (By Jamie Sams & David Carson; illustrated by Angela Werneke.)

Elk herd at Point Reyes National Seashore

    This wonderful collection of Tarot-like cards (and interpretative book) represents 44 animal spirits revered by earth-loving peoples everywhere since before time was a concept. The collection also has 9 “empty” cards that can symbolize the power animal of your choice. Often, the Medicine Cards that your fingers gravitate to – that is to say, the cards that are attracted to you – are strikingly accurate in their dispensed wisdom and symbolism. They speak true to immediate events in your life. They dissect your emotions. They affirm your thoughts. They validate your goals and dreams. They provide guidance in transitioning through difficult life changes. Too often, the cards are mischievous, full of playful shenanigans and dead-on reckonings. Too often, it is so weird that you can only drop your jaw in astonishment.

    The following consultations with the Medicine Cards are true stories, mind-boggling in their WOW-factor, and amazing and jaw-dropping for their personal episodes of psychic connectivity with animal brothers and sisters. By paying attention to the messages of our animal spirit companions – when we pray, perhaps, for them to appear in our midst suddenly in a flowery meadow in the woods – we can truly discover dormant, untapped personal power within and transcend our limited human awareness to encompass the consciousness of the Spirit-That-Moves-In-All-Things.

(Thank you, Tom Brown, Jr.!)

§

Snakestory

Rattlesnake at Clear Creek in the Siskiyou Wilderness

    One fine July day in the summer of 1999, after Mary’s infusion of Snake energy in her life on a camping trip in the north country, I shuffled the Medicine Cards and spread them out like a fan for Mary to pick one. “Go ahead, Lovey, let’s see Snake really speak to you.” Mary looked slightly bewildered. “I couldn’t possibly …” she began. “Sure, you can,” I encouraged. “Go for it – pick Snake.”

    Mary hesitated for a moment, in meditative concentration (what else!), and reached for a card, slipping over two or three of them before latching onto one and pulling it out of the deck. She raised it up and for several long seconds betrayed no emotion. . .and then, eyebrows arching, jaw dropping, she blurted out “OH MY GODDESS!” and turned the card over to reveal … YEP, none other than Rattlesnake! We were both blown totally away, frissons tingling our spines, unable to say anything, really, in the face of this powerful display of magical mystery animal appearances!


    Fast forward nearly a year later to May 2000; the lovely Laura Clampitt is visiting. She’s lounging on our bed, drinking a beer; I’m regaling her with the story of Mary and the Clear Creek Rattlesnakes and then picking Rattlesnake out of the deck. Your turn, I say. Let’s see what happens. She hesitates for a moment, psychically concentrating on the “right” card to pick, then reaches for one or two, lets them slip between her fingers, and finally she grabs one that feels good. She slowly turns it over, and, like Mary before, is poker faced for several seconds. Whaaaat? Nooooo waaay! You gotta be kidding! She isn’t. Laura “Serpienta” Clampitt has overcome stunning odds to pick Rattlesnake! We are all speechless. This herpetological manifestation/visitation tops everything! But then again, knowing how whimsical animal magical energy works, it is not very surprising at all, only deeply reaffirming of life’s messages of interconnectedness.

Rattlesnake at Sunol Regional Wilderness

Snake: Transmutation. Snake medicine people are very rare. Snake medicine teaches you on a personal level that you are a universal being. If you have chosen this symbol, there is a need within you to transmute some thought, action, or desire so that wholeness may be achieved. This is heavy magic.”

    Now, a few weeks later, in early June 2000, long-time friend and out-of-body associate from Haiti, Karen “Baby” Bogat, is visiting. I’m telling her the story of Mary and Laura and Rattlesnake, and she’s nodding approvingly, enthusiastically, like, yes, of course, naturally, what do you expect? It’s the healing and helpful spirit of Dambala (prominent in Haitian voudon) being summoned. What is so strange about that? OK, Baby, here, pick one. Karen closes her eyes for a second, reaches unhesitatingly for one, and flips it over like a dealer turning over a 20 to my 19 with a thousand dollars riding on the bet. Sure enough, it was a big-time message from no other than DAMBALA herself! A long hush followed as Karen held up Rattlesnake for all to see. Now this – THIS, nothing could conceivably top this! What could it all mean? Dambala speaking to the artful ladies?

Snake … come crawling … there’s fire in your eyes … bite me, excite me … I’ll learn to realize … the poison transmuted … brings eternal flame … Open me to heaven … to heal me again.”

§


Tom with Boa Constrictor


    


















    
Snakestory is a tough act to follow, but the Medicine Cards do not let you down. Other episodes of playfulness include Batstory, Horsestory, Lizardstory, Antelopestory and Porcupinestory.

§

    Laura and Mary were joking around that same night and it was my turn to pick a card. While taking a piss break or something, they cut a rough shape of a card out of a casino flyer advertising this totally dorky comedian named Pete Barbutti. They had written on the “medicine card” “Lounge Lizard” and inserted it in the deck as though it was really going to fool me. Ha ha! Good laugh. Now let me pick my card. I said before picking it, No hesitation, you just have to know which one it is. And wouldn’t ya know it! You guessed it! I picked none other than Mizzy Lizzy (Lizard!) Beyond coincidence/beyond comprehension?

Lizard … will you dream with me? Travel across the stars? Beyond the place of time and space, There live visions from afar.”

Western Fence Lizard, Marin County

§

    One time visiting Charlie and Jess’ in Bonny Doon, we all picked cards. The funniest were Charlie’s and mine. He picked Porcupine and I picked Antelope. Just a few hours before Christine had cut Char’s big red hair and he did in fact look like Porcupine! When we played B-ball later one, my Antelope boundless aggressive energy simply ran roughshod over the sluggish Porcupine!

Porcupine … remind me, of innocence again, with every man a brother, each woman a friend.”

§

    The same night Baby picked Dambala, she had another pick – Horse, and she was “soooo proud.” Mary had a second pick as well; of course, what else? She picked – impossible! HORSE! Then, come to find out, the bookmark at Rattlesnake was a bookmark of – impossible? HORSE!

“Mighty Horse … power to run across the open plains, or to bring the vision, of the shields, dancing in purple dream rain.”


Semi-wild Horse, Northern California

§

    Anja related a story where she picked Porcupine (like our friend, Charlie) and convinced her skeptical husband, Vince, to pick one as well, just to see. When Vince picked Porcupine he became a true believer!

    The medicine in the Porcupine card is that of relief from seriousness and severity. Open your heart to those things that gave you joy as a child!

§

    I wrote earlier in my journal Batstory, where Rattlesnake and Bat cards came together at the end of the deck during a shuffle search for them.

“Sacred Bat … flew to me, from the darkness of the cave. Womb-like reflections, answers it gave. Birth, death, rebirth, cycles of the whole … never-ending, just eclipsed, the journey of the soul.”

§

    The Medicine Cards don’t! disappoint! No matter which one you pick! Even little “insignificant” Ant has much to teach. Every creature great and small is our teacher, helping us to discover our personal power by letting go of despair, guilt, pain, suffering, seriousness and severity! (Go Porcupine Go!!)

Dragonfly

§

Animal Spirits:

Guardians and Healing Energy

    Mary and I have always enjoyed her summery birthdays at Clear Creek, a serene place of rugged beauty and sacred power in the Siskiyou Wilderness. Clear Creek is a wild and remote tributary of the Klamath River, winding and gurgling its way through rocky gorges and canyonlands to form limpid pools of bracing green water.

    The past two years I have already written about Animal Spirits coming to pay her homage on her transformative birthdays – first Rattlesnake and next Bear. Both manifested themselves to her out there with deep and mysterious intention. So, upon returning, I got out the Animal Cards, 53 different representations of Animal Spirit Companions, each with a special message. On each occasion, Mary somehow, miraculously (?), picked Rattlesnake and Bear! That’s some pretty potent medicine!

My two dears at Clear Creek



















    During our camping trip at Clear Creek this past weekend, celebrating her fortieth birthday, Mary naturally opened up her heart to receive a sign from her totem at this special place and time – and who would it be? Bear again? Ms. Rattler? Dragonfly, or perhaps Skunk or Coyote?

    It wasn't until two days into our trip that I casually mentioned that I thought her totem animal this year was Bird; it dawned on her that I was right! All the signs were there. First we saw a large feather someone had stuck upright along the trailhead. Then I noted a nest in a nearby tree. (In eight seasons of visiting Clear Creek I had never espied a nest before.) Another day Bird visited our campsite and picked clean the remains of a Lizard that had drowned in Osa's water bowl. We felt so bad we honored Lizard’s death on a small altar on a rock, and by doing so provided Bird with a tasty and easy meal.

Coyote at Point Reyes National Seashore















    On our final day, while walking to one of our favorite swimming holes, I looked up and spotted Hawk circling the blue skies above us, once, twice, then slightly swooping down to get a better look at us, perhaps, before flitting away majestically over the crest of the mountain. At that point, I said to Mary, “That's it! You'll no doubt pick Hawk when we get home.”

    On our way back to Berkeley, we stopped to visit her brother in Paradise. On a walk we came upon a tree full of winged BlackbirdsCrow, this time! Once back home, a day or two later, I got out the Animal Medicine Cards, shuffled them up, and picked one myself, just to see. Amazing enough, I picked Crow! (How could this be?!) Next was Mary’s turn. I shuffled the cards again and held them, fan-like, in my hand for her to pick one. She closed her eyes and meditated briefly, it seemed, to summon the full powers of her concentration and imagination to connect with her Spirit Animal. She confidently withdrew a card, held it up, paused ever so briefly, and then erupted in a shrill gasp-cum-laughter, she was so shocked. She had picked Hawk! Is it any surprise, though, given her track record? And Hawk’s message of soaring freedom and joy, of being ever-observant of things around her to better make important life decisions, resonates deeply!


Antelope pair, Nevada desert

    The Animal Spirit Cards do indeed provide a doorway to help answer questions and resolve mysteries of one's journey through life!

    Heavy Medicine, Deep Water.

§

Hummingbirdstory

(by Mary)


    This year marks my 43rd birthday in July. And for two years, having held the Deer totem, I discovered my new totem for the year to be Hummingbird.

    The morning of my birthday began cloudy with a light rain tapping on my cheeks to awaken me.

Hummingbird, Albany Bulb


















    
    As ritual must remain in place, I got out of my warm sleeping bag and jumped into the cold, cold waters of Clear Creek to cleanse myself of the previous year’s gunk and begin anew. Tom built a fire so I could warm myself, and there I sat doodling in my journal composing a picture of images that surrounded me and listening to Tom read aloud from John Muir’s Wilderness Essays, one of many gifts he would bestow that day. I rued to him that we didn’t have some sage to burn at our campsite, hoping to conjure up the presence of my new Animal Totem. Just then, a Hummingbird, a never before seen sight in all our years at Clear Creek, flew into our campsite and fluttered just above Tom’s shoulder!

    That's her! She’s the one!

    Soon the clouds broke, and sun shone blissfully through the canyon! Such delight!

    Since then, there have been many visitations, most notably a welcoming from her on a day trip to the American River where she flew into our camp upon our arrival, and long, long visits from a Hummingbird in our yard. As I type this, she is perching, yes sitting still on a branch of a plum tree out my window keeping me company. She has come nearly every day to visit since my birthday, spinning her energetic dance of life and assuring me to take note of her special medicine:

    “Hummingbird feathers open the heart. Without an open and loving heart, you can never taste the nectar and pure bliss of life. Life is a wonderland of delight – Hummingbird darts from one beautiful flower to another, tasting the essences, and radiating colors. Hummingbird disdains ugliness and harshness, and quickly flies away from discord. In a flash of spirit, she can fly in any direction – up, down, backwards and forwards or hover in one spot and appear to be motionless, savoring the harmonious concert of life. Follow her and you will soon be filled with joy!”

Giant Peruvian Hummingbird, Ollantaytambo

    PS: Tom’s next gift to me was … a beautiful bundle of sage!

    PSS: the bday cards I got from Ora [Tom’s mom] and my parents had Birds on them, and several of Ora’s tchotchkes from her gift box had bird imagery on them! (because that Orie is "in the know"!)

    PSS: I am thinking of having this special totem tattooed on my body from this drawing of Hummingbird suckling nectar from a lotus flower.

§


Animal Totems / Spirit Guides

Guardians and Healing Energy

Minkstory


    Many moons have passed since my last WOW! moment bonding with an Animal Spirit Guide. So when a gorgeous Mink recently appeared to me during a camping trip at the Yuba River, I looked forward to picking Weasel from the Medicine Card bundle, a deck of Tarot-like cards whose Animal Spirit representations impart timeless Indigenous teachings to help heal others, Self, and Mother Earth.

    Years ago sister Colleen presented me with the cards and book (Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through the Ways of Animals by Jamie Sams & David Carson), allowing me to share many intriguing stories of Animal Spirits I’ve seen or encountered in nature, and then once home find that my particular Animal Spirit begins to manifest through subtle coincidences and themes, synchronous reminders of the grace and presence – and special messages of power – to heed. But when the Animal Spirit Guide manifests in the pipeline of shared consciousness and spiritual connection, when – eyes closed and breath drawn! – without fail, I pull the exact Animal Medicine Card I was envisioning! – then you gotta wonder!

Bear, Yosemite National Park



















    How / why the phenomenon happens to me (and Mary) is beyond my ken. Perhaps it has something to do with receptive spiritual antennae, intuitive prowess, psychic attunement, past life incarnations and embodiments, karmic associations and entanglements, an ineffable Oneness with all Living Beings. Heavens, I wish I knew. Sure, I’ve always been connected to nature and love Animals, but how does that explain repeated instances of picking the right card on so many occasions? Sister Cathleen deemed it an extraordinary affinity to Animal Spirits, calling it shamanic. I do not know, and make no claims or pretenses, but whatever is happening with the Medicine Bundle is humbling. And a bit eerie to ponder the gift of communication with Animals bestowed mystically to gain understanding, help heal, and learn eternal lessons about myself and what it means to be human. (And so much more.)

    Successfully picking the right card on the first try, time and time again, from the array of 53 Medicine Cards cannot be written off as mere coincidence or sheer luck. But if 1 in 53 chances is a difficult act, how likely is it to pick the right card – Weasel – twice in a row? Is that 1 / 53 x 1 / 53 chance, whatever that might be? Or something much more difficult to pull off?

    Consider the chance of 1 in 53 that you’ll select the Animal you hope speaks to you through the Medicine Cards. 1 in 53. You could spend all day trying to pick the card of the Animal you spotted at the lake, in the forest, high in the sky, or dreamed of, and never pick it on the first try. But properly attuned, it’s possible to draw your Animal Spirit Guide on the first try! It sounds easier said than done, but oddly, that’s exactly what happens with outré frequency to me and Mary every time we turn to the Medicine Cards for guidance, advice, direction and wisdom on seeing or attuning to a special Animal, usually around our birthdays in July and August.


§

Weaselstory

Mink at South Fork Yuba River

    It was no different this time with Weasel. While camped at a favorite spot on the Yuba River, enjoying early-morning solitude, I glimpsed a Mink slip-sliding down a smooth white rock. It’s my first sighting of the cute furry, brown aquatic mammal in the wild. She’s out on a foraging mission, now returning to her rocky den above the river. In fascination and reverence, I watch the stealth creature expertly navigate a rocky obstacle course on the opposite bank, stopping at one point atop a boulder to look quizzically at me, then scurrying on to the safety of her home. What great timing, to be present at just the right moment, and what an honor and thrill to have established eye contact, however briefly, and however much distrust she exhibited of me, the stinky two-legged that I am cursed to be.

Hummingbird bathing, John Hinkel Park, Berkeley

    Once home, per tradition, I get out the Medicine Cards to see if Weasel might resonate as my Animal Totem / Spirit Guide. I so want it to, perhaps too eagerly. Normally, Mary and I spread the fan of cards to help channel the energy for the right pick, but this time I self-pick, first one card, no dice, then a second card, nothing. Where’s the magic, I wonder. Before picking one final card – after all, third time’s a charm or three strikes and you’re out, right? – I realize I’m rushing things, so I pause for a moment of deep breath silence while envisioning Ms. Mink at the river, her perfection of existence laser-printed in my mind’s eye as she stops momentarily to look at me, conveying some message I would only later learn about. I clearly see her, a powerful, fearless presence, a proud fiercely independent wild Animal living in a beautiful river canyon taking notice of me one quiet early morning. I feel a deep connection, an ineffable kinship, a welling up of spiritual affinity that Weasel is right here with me. And so, with this very focused pick, I slowly pull a card, and against all logic and common sense, it’s the right card!
Pop goes the Weasel!
   
     I am stunned that it happened once again, especially after so long a hiatus (except for some bird stuff), thinking the magic had died.

    Okay, even though it was the third draw, it’s a pretty good story because it demonstrates the mental focus and psychic acuity that is absolutely necessary to make the Animal Magic happen, and even with three draws, you could still spend all day picking and maybe do it once, or not.

§

    Exactly one week after the river sighting, guess who pops up in the New York Times crossword puzzle – Weasel! Clued in, Mary suggests I try and pick the Weasel card again, just to test the magical energy, see if it’s a real, live spark or just a fluke. I hesitate because I feel I’ve already had a great experience picking Weasel. But she calmly insists, urging confidently, “Let’s just try it and see, you never know, trust in the magic and energy, your abilities …”

    With a tingle of apprehension – I know I’m going to blow it, there’s no way I can replicate my feat – I consent to give it a go, but before doing so, I pause to visualize Ms. Mink in her riverine habitat, looking over at me for a split but penetrating second before scampering off.

    I hover my hand briefly over the fan of 53 cards, and without hesitation or reason – only unguided, unexplained intuition – I go for a hidden one, buried under several other cards, completely out of sight and mind. Why that one, I don’t really wonder. I’m operating on some other sub or supra-conscious plane. Maybe, even, I think momentarily, Mink is Mary’s Spirit Animal Companion. She wasn’t able to go on the camping trip, and now here she is, channeling this most amazing Animal connection. I wedge the card out slowly and upturn it to face her. Instantly, a frisson lights up my Chakra system as her expression turns to awe, then disbelief, finally perplexed wonder and amazement. It doesn’t seem possible, but it’s the Weasel card staring at us in all her cunning and guile! How can it be that Weasel has popped up in my consciousness like this? Call it what you will. I call it Crazy Mink Shit Amazing.

 

BONUS LIVE FOOTAGE FROM YUBA RIVER:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VblxJY6coGA

§

    Here ye, disbelievers and skeptics! Once again, the Medicine Cards do not disappoint. They unerringly speak Truth and dispense Wisdom to help us along on our Sacred Earth Walk. There may be no easy explanation, and it may all be fallacious ratiocination, but one thing I know for certain is the Medicine Cards have proven over and over and over that spiritual conduits and connections exist and are accessible if – like Weasel teaches – you activate hidden senses to embrace the Great Mystery. Is this ability innate or learned or somehow imprinted in one’s DNA, I do not know. I just know it happens, often, with the Animals, me and to Mary a good many times as well. We have also channeled positive affinity to friends, so something’s going on.

§

    Much has been written about Weasel Medicine, Weasel Magic, Weasel Power, and not all flattering. Think how we – human speech – demean and degrade the elegant Animal with low-life associations and wily characterizations: “You weasel!” implies a less than honest, manipulating persona. But oh, how unfair and untrue!

    Still, Weasel Medicine is “a difficult power totem to have.” For whatever reason, Weasel came into my life, crossed paths with me on the Sacred Earth Walk, and beckoned my empty receptacle to overflow with the power and energy and strength of Weasel essence. Spotting a special Animal and then connecting on a deep spiritual level requires exceptionally good luck and timing – being in the right place at the right moment so that happenstance occurrences converge and serendipitous events commingle to create perfect harmony with an Animal’s presence and essence. If used openly, honestly, wisely, in the service of helping others, Weasel Medicine is a rare gift, so say the Ancient Teachers.

    Weasel Medicine invokes:

“Stealth … power … cunning … swiftness … incredible energy … ingenuity … keen powers of observation … a powerful ally in business … knower of “hidden reasons” and “hidden meanings” of things … find out secrets through the power of observation of actions, feelings, situations using finely tuned senses … fierceness and warrior energy … discernment … fearless … tenacious … ability to size up things accurately.”

§

Swanstory


As you all know by now, each summer of our birthdays Mary and I await, expect, seek out, and connect with our Animal Totem, hoping a message will manifest from the spirit of the Animal. Usually we’re out in nature somewhere beautiful and remote, and then we try to pick the special Animal from the batch of 53 Animal Magic cards (Tarot-like cards) on our return home.

Swans on Chicago pond

    Every summer for the past several years we have felt affinities / had interesting and unusual encounters and coincidences with various animals – Rattlesnake, Bear, Deer, Frog, Dragonfly, Otter, Horse, Raven, et al – and then, amazingly, we picked the Animal, usually on the first try, out of the deck of cards. Try doing that with a deck of regular playing cards. Think of an Ace of Hearts, for example, and then cut the deck or pull out a card and see how many times you have to do it before you actually draw the Ace of Hearts. Well, with our identified Animal Spirit totems, we are time and again astounded to pick the corresponding animal card! I’ve written about all these before – check out my Gambolin’ Man post for intimate details:

http://gambolinman.blogspot.com/2005/07/siskiyou-wilderness-magical-encounters.html 


    And so it was this summer, a similar pattern unfolded with Mary. Often, it seems, I channel the energy somehow and do the picking! Can’t quite explain that aspect of it, but it’s happened time and again, and it was no different this year.

    We couldn’t camp on her birthday, as we traditionally have done for the past 15 or so years, so we ended up sticking around the Bay Area – after all, a world-class destination in its own right. We took hikes, rode our bikes, and canoed on beautiful lakes.

Red-shouldered Hawk, Tilden Regional Park, Berkeley

    One day, up in the Berkeley hills, I turned to see gorgeous Fox crossing Seaview Trail. It was the first time in nearly 15 years I have seen Fox in local Bay Area wild lands. Mary and I were in awe, and I told her we’d be lucky to ever see Fox again. A couple of days later, on a solo hike in the same hills but different trail, Mary espied Fox! She was fast becoming convinced it was her Animal Spirit totem for this, her 47th birthday. I expressed amazement at her sighting / encounter, and professed, for sure, that would be the last time Fox would appear in the Bay Area, given that 15 years had passed and in all our nature outings we'd never come across one, and now, suddenly, two of them! A week later, driving to a beach in Pt. Reyes National Seashore, guess who we had to brake for in the middle of the road – a sweet, sly Foxy little guy! Sheer, delightful vul-pin-ity! Of course, Mary was now utterly convinced. But this was prior to her birthday, so we waited to pick a card.

Two deer staring me and the dogs down, Colorado Springs

    The day after her birthday, Friday, July 18, we were rowing a canoe on Lake Chabot in the Oakland Hills – a big, peaceful, pretty wild-like setting – and were docked off a remote shoreline (where I was reading passages of The Secret to her!: checks are in the mail, hon!), when I happened to look up and out across the rippling blue water and noticed Swan maneuvering back ‘n forth and in and out of reeds. A WOW! moment. We set off, to see how close we could get to her, and guiding us on our quest was a gigantic glittery Dragonfly which stayed with us on course until we were right within eyeshot of Swan. (A detail to be noted in the Swan description of symbology.) For the next thirty minutes, we chased / followed Swan around the reedy patches and open waters, as though she were playing a game with us.

    Later on, I looked in my Bird book and discovered she was what is known as a Mute Swan; they’re Eurasian and mostly at home on the East Coast, and very rarely sighted in California. But there she was in all her Swan glory. Mary, of course, was now convinced Swan was her Animal Spirit, or maybe both Swan and Fox were.
  
Turtle sunning at Tilden Nature Area, Berkeley

    And so, back home that day, I got out the cards, shuffled them, closed my eyes momentarily to visualize a deep, shamanic connection to these Animals, and drew. . . a BLANK card. (Blanks are representative of any Animal you choose to imprint there.) I closed my eyes again, and drew … another WOW! moment: Ms. FOX! Can you believe it? We were both so astounded and tickled! I closed my eyes again in hopes of repeating a magical pull, and drew a third card … this time a HOLY COW! moment, or make that a HOLY SWAN! moment, for lo and behold, I had picked the magical Swan card! (And I rarely, if ever pick Swan, the only other time back in Massachusetts with the twin sisters and Mary at this wildlife refuge where we saw Swan nesting and later I picked her card.)

    And so the magic continues!

Fox: If Fox were chosen to share its medicine with you, it is a sign that you are to become like the wind, which is unseen yet is able to weave into and through any location or situation. . . you might also gain confidence in your ability to know instantly what will happen next.”

My only Fox photo, unfortunately killed on road, Lake Berryessa

Swan: Little Swan flew through the Dreamtime, looking for the future. . . Dragonfly came flying by and Swan stopped him to ask about the (future). . . if you pulled Swan, it ushers in a time of altered states of awareness and of development of your intuitive abilities. Swan medicine people have the ability to see the future, to surrender to the power of Great Spirit (MOM - LET GO & LET GOD!), and to accept the healing and transformation of their lives.”

    So who will pop up on my 53rd birthday this August 20?

§

Four Days in the Wilds of

Big Dragonfly Canyon:

ZooPhiliac  Attunement / Animal Spirit Encounters

Pranic Cleansing Messages / Medicine Card Reaffirmations

Uncommon Shamanic Intent

(Or none of the above)

    For the 46th anniversary of my day of birth in 1955, August 20, as is cusTOM/MARY, we were somewhere deep in nature’s bosom communing with animals, trees, plants, river water, rocks, skies and stars, thanking the heavens for our health, our love, our good fortune to be alive, in good enough shape, and privileged to enjoy the majesty of untrammeled wilderness in total, complete serenity (except for one instance of loud gunshot!) …. always on the apperceptive prowl to identify and bond with a particular animal or special critter that manifests as my most important Animal Spirit companion of the year.

    
The past three years Mary has successively identified and bonded with her totem Animal Spirit(s) at Clear Creek, most recently with Hawk, and magically (?), mysteriously (?), mystically (?), on each occasion selected out of the 53 cards her special Animal’s power! Now it was my turn.

Animal Cards and Book

    And so August 20 and the days before found us in that deep North Fork American River/Big Granite Creek confluence of canyons and mountains. We had a supremely remote and gorge-ous location all to ourselves! in the four days we hiked and camped in the Sailor Canyon area where we were with Dough a year ago, we did not see one solitary human being! Easy to explain: there’s no quick or easy way to get down there to the river’s edge at 3300 or so from the 6500' ridge above except for hiking a minimum of eight miles on the NFAR Trail from Mumford Bar, or coming the way we did via Sailor Flat … a very 2.5 gnarly miles of barely drivable fire road – definitely 4W required! Then the trail down is just one tough muthuh-humper! In less than two miles, the trail descends with vicious vertical abandon! We were sore for two days after lugging our packs down that, then hiking the other two miles upriver to the confluence, having to bush the stream and its boulders.

    It was almost scary being so alone and bereft of other humans, especially because of the evidence of “other humans” pyro-ballistic activities at the campsite we stumbled upon on a sweet eminence overlooking the tumbling Big Granite Creek gorge (Magnum 45 shells, rifle shells, shotgun shells). What kind of human comes here? People like Mary and me, gentle, non-violent souls blending in seamlessly into peaceful natural settings? Or gun-toting, drunken idiots? That’s what I meant about it being almost scary not seeing anyone, because should some crazed redneck with a gun happen upon Mary, naked and momentarily alone, perhaps, at the camp, well, you never know what could happen. Being so isolated, it’s not like the Yuba, where you know everyone’s cool; where we were, being so remote, anyone could just come and do anything they wanted, especially if they had a gun. He’d have to be strong and tough, too, because that’s what it takes to get to this place, being in pretty damn good shape, because this place is rugged enough to eat you raw. Well, this paranoid rant is dead – the closest we came to a horrific fate at the hand of a renegade rapist survivalist was being startled out of our reveries by a loud, reverberating echo of a gunshot careening down the box canyon at Maui Falls one day as we were lying on hot rocks at its pedestal pool. It so disconcerted us we left immediately, baffled at who could be up there, how could they be up there, 500 feet up a jagged, irregular cliff-face? They would have to have been coming from the 12-mile Cherry Point Trail from Highway 80 that eventually leads to Big Granite and the NFAR. Strange thing, though, is we did not hear follow-up gunshot. If it was someone with a gun, why only one shot? So, you can see why I was spooked in the midst of our plentiful solitude!


Hawk staring me down, Lake Tahoe

    This place ROCKS! In fact, it’s nothing but sheer rocks and more rocks! Dense, colorful rocks. Poor Osa hates it, but hangs tough like a real dingo; at 14, she’s one tough ombrecita! She’s our true Animal Spirit Guardian Guide Companion!

    There’s a couple of sand bars but mostly it’s all rocks and more rocks, boulders, cliffs, southwest-like canyon walls, Big West granite pools. Blistering blue sky, ninety degree heat, clear bracing pools, sunlight playing off dappling water, a pure, unhurried place of magnificent beauty. I wandered around in a stupor of reverential awe the whole time, of course naked as a screamin’ Jaybird. (Did I put clothes on at all? Ah, yes, only to protect from the sun.) If this place were accessible, it would probably be a National Park or something, it’s so incredibly beautiful and rugged. And, hell, it’s “only” the Tahoe National Forest (“it ain’t the John Muir” after all!), and it”s only two and a half hours’ drive from Oaktown, Christ, you’re barely to Gold Rush foothill country – can it really be all that spectacular?

Ants convening around a drop of watermelon juice


















    
    Never before have we seen more creechies than here – I humbly implored the Water Snakes to accept us into their realms. Beautiful and black, sleek and shiny, these babies ruled the pools and came out in droves to sun on glistening white rocks at the base of waterfalls and pools. We encountered a juvenile Rattler trying to sip water at a small pool, but she became disturbed / threatened by our crossing. I distinctly heard the rattle sound as a cicada and ignored it; Mary got it right though and spotted her immediately while it took me several seconds to hone my vision in on that gorgeous Western Diamondback. I beseeched Dragonfly to glitter and glide on with their loopy aerial precise swooping, playing and feeding maneuvers. I asked hoppy Lizard to play on and ignore our intrusive but utterly benign (and they know it!) presence. I thanked Froggie for letting us share their abodes. We were definitely the “out-of-towners” in this special place – civilized interlopers among wild species – a myriad of Insects, a plethora of Amphibians and Reptiles, abundant Avian life … however, no evidence, really of any medium or big Animals Bear, Deer, Mountain Lion, Bobcat, Coyote, Marmot, Weasel, Fox, Skunk; only the chirpy, elusive, and – and this tells you how infrequently contact with humans occurs in these parts – paranoid, scampering grey Squirrel. Oh, yes, and let us not forget to praise and mention (because in a single blade of grass God’s miraculous work is measured!) the easily overlooked “prosaic” denizens of the wild: spooky-shadow producing Water Striders, darting Minnows and not-to-be-caught princely Trout, phalanxes of Ants heading up tree trunks, annoying but harmless sand Bees, leech-like black squiggly Worms, sonar-propelled micro-Bats, toothsome Spiders, Banana Slugs even! And I thanked the giant Sugarcone Pines, and the Manzanitas, the Horsetail and wild Bramble, the Hydrangia-like large-leafed tropical plant adorning the magical stretch of upper Big Granite Creek just before it dead ends at Maui Falls in that awesome box canyon. Thank you thank you, O Great Spirits, for sharing such an intimate occasion, not to be repeated too often for too many!

    It became apparent the day before we left that my Animal Spirit companion was Frog.

“Sing Frog Sing! Call the rains, Quench the dryness, Cleanse the Earth, Then fill me up again.”

Although I seemed to be having attractions and propensities toward some other of my friends written about here, Frog powerfully manifested – in other words, we bonded – and who bonds with wild Frog? I was sitting on a rock filtering water when a little guy just hopped right next to my foot on a small patch of sand and just sat there with me. Didn’t move a muscle in a catatonic meditative frozen state, which is how I was feeling sitting still filtering water for twenty minutes.

Blue dyeing poison Frogs from Suriname

    The next day, though, at this fine little beachhead that Osa just loves because of the grass and dead pinecones she likes to roll and scratch in, a beautiful orange and green Frog actually climbed up on my middle finger and let me pet her! (I know there’s a “do not touch” wilderness ethic I probably violated, but just this once!) I coaxed her up from her half-submerged perch on a rock at the river’s edge by gently, palm up, reaching out with my middle finger and sort of inserting it under her chin, where she’d then swing one of her cute little rubbery legs up and around to grab on, then the other, until she was riding straddle on my finger, I swear! With my index finger I tickled her under her chin! And stroked her back! She let me! (Whereas before, trying to do same on the ground, she would hop frantically away whenever I gently tried to nudge her back.) Then she would hop off, swim like she was going to disappear down under, but do a U-turn instead, find another rock perch, and wait there for me to coax her up on my finger again. Three times! So, I was convinced! “Mary, I’m probably going to pick Frog when we get home.”


Raccoon standing tall
  
    Well, need I recount the predictable outcome? That night, returning home late and tired from the draining hike out and drive home, I showered, then, refreshed, I brought out the Animal Medicine Cards and summoned Frog from the contents! I was flabbergasted, not to mention completely amazed! There Frog stared upright at me: the same Frog as my river friend … resonating, pulsating, exuding the message of cleansing:

    “The key is to find a way to rid yourself of distractions and to replace the mud with clear energy. Then replenish your parched spirit, body and mind.”

    This profound, intimate jeremiad to me on my 46th – basically, shape up or ship out! – must ring true to the core of my soul. I must listen to this powerful message, take heed of the medicine of replenishment and cleansing that Frog is offering up to me, and grow and learn from past mistakes, vowing never to repeat them, on my continuing journey along life’s quantum paths – a cleaner, happier, healthier, wiser, and more evolved being.

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Our New Pet

On the day I turned sixteen and got my driver’s license, Dad let me drive his boss green and orange Mercury Bobcat. Was I ever stoked! Dad said we were going to take a little drive over to the next county, to Rainsville, to pick up our new pet from a war buddy of his. Well, I’m just guessing it was a war buddy, because Dad called him Sarge, but his real name was Marvin Bender.

All I knew about Marvin Bender was from a long ago memory. I had tagged along with Dad on a rambling “coon hunt” that resulted in a total of zero raccoons treed and shot, but back at Marvin’s he and Dad ended up getting shit-faced from some fire water Marvin drained from a crude still in his backyard while I was outside fiddling around. In my mind, Marvin Bender was a skanky old hermit who lived a ramshackle existence out in the sticks alongside Boggons Crick and kept pretty much to himself and his hound dogs. If it weren’t for the fact that ol’ Sarge happened to be Dad’s war buddy, I can’t see how he would otherwise associate with such a backwards – I meant to write backwoods – kind of guy like Marvin Bender.

When Mom got wind of our little adventure, she figured we were going out for a little spin, nothing more. “Now don’t you be gone long, Tommy, you hear me. You’ve got homework. The lawn needs mowing. Did you clean out the dog bowls like I asked you? And be careful. I can’t believe your father is allowing you to drive.”

Dad didn’t let out a peep about our new pet. It was all on the down low. A man of few words, Dad operated in his own world according to his own rules. Despite his flaws and absentee ways on occasion, he was still my dad and I loved him. Plus, I always had fun with him – that is, the times he made room for me in his scattershot life. But what was with the big secret? What pet was he talking about? We already had two dogs, a hamster, a turtle, and three stray cats we called our own even though they didn’t really live with us but would always show up at the doorstep mewing pathetically and tugging at our heartstrings. Mom did her best to shoo them away but when she saw that forlorn look in their rheumy eyes she gave in and always set out milk and kibble for the unkempt felines.

When Dad first told me about our new pet, he said, “Son, just you wait. It’s something exotic, I tell you.”

Exotic. I relished the sound of the word, even though I wasn’t one-hundred percent confident of its meaning. Surely, some kind of colorful tropical bird fit the bill for being exotic. Or how about a cool yellow snake like my friend Ray Haney used to have until it died. Maybe our new pet would be one of those super-smart white rats. Dad was bonkers over the movie Willard, but no, a rat just didn’t seem exotic enough. So it had to be something crazier – like a cute ferret or cuddly hedgehog! Whatever our new pet was, the suspense was killing me.

I steered the Bobcat into Marvin Bender’s unpaved driveway and we piled out of the car. I was giddy with excitement that dampened when Dad stepped on a pile of mushy dog poop and began cussing up a storm and wiping his shoe on the grass and then scraping it on a tree stump. A pack of five mangy looking hounds rushed us, barking their silly heads off and slobbering gobs of saliva on my pant legs. Marvin appeared from behind some tall cornstalks in his ragged garden plot and greeted us with a wily look like he and Dad were in cahoots.

“Howdy there, boys,” Marvin said, a smile lighting up his jowly face. “She’ll be inside. C’mon, let’s have a look.”

Dad extended his hand to shake Marvin’s. “Listen here, Sarge, I got dog crap all over my shoe. Don’t you ever clean up around here?”

Marvin laughed. “Naw, no need ta. Just take your shoes off at the door and hose ‘em down on your way out.”

We followed Marvin into his house – well, his double-wide rusted-out dilapidated trailer. My nose immediately turned up. Something was stinking to high heaven like some kind of I don’t know what. It wasn’t that foul poopy fertilizer farm smell I knew well. It was more like a moist, ripe funky odor of a fetid zoo. I glanced at Dad to see if he noticed the unholy stench permeating the premises, but he seemed unbothered, just a bit antsy. I was about to comment on it when some bird in the next room let out a brain-rattling screech that pierced the silence and made me forget all about the rank odor. And I swear I’m not making this up, but I distinctly heard that bird say, “C’mere, silly boy! C’mere, silly boy!” I looked at Dad and he shot me one of his sly winks, a sure indicator that this gloating bird, some kind of parrot or something, was hands-down our new pet.

Marvin put shut of that notion. “Oh, that’s just Elmer, my crazy cockatoo. Don’t pay him no mind. He’s all squawk and no talk. C’mon, follow me.”

Marvin led us down a narrow hallway congested with an obstacle course of junk. We had to be careful not to trip over stacks of moldering newspapers and magazines and who knows what other odious objects were blocking our path. We made it to the back of Marvin’s trailer unmolested and stopped in front of a closed door oozing from its cracks an overpowering smell of – I can’t even describe it.

I was mildly alarmed by wild shrieks and frantic whistling coming from the room. Feeling a bit nervous, I said, “What in the heck, Dad?”

Dad grinned mischievously. “Don’t you worry, son. This is gonna be a big surprise for the both of us.”

“Is it our new pet, Dad?”

Dad patted me on the head reassuringly. “What do you think, son?”

Marvin cautioned us to stand back while he cracked open the door and peeked in. “Now, now, Marva, settle down. Time to meet your new friends.” He opened the door wide and ushered us in, warning us to be calm and not make eye contact with Marva.

My first glimpse of Marva she was sitting inside a bucket. Her little beady demented eyes locked with mine for a moment before she started racing around the room screaming like a wild banshee, jumping on a ratty chair and then leaping onto a ladder leaning against the wall. She scurried madly to the top and then flung herself agilely down to the chair and drooped her red rump over the arm and took a huge dump on the gnarly linoleum floor. Dad cracked up at the sight of that, laughing hysterically at the shit-show. For me, the entire scene was more exotic than anything I’d ever set eyes on or could imagine! Marvin looked over at us, bearing a shit-eating grin, is the only way I can describe it. Dad was shaking his head and catching his breath, like, ain’t she a pistol! I was uncertain about it all, but was definitely awestruck by Marva.

Marvin managed to corral the spunky monkey and put her on a leash. “She’s young, so ya gotta take that into consideration. My buddy who runs the rescue sanctuary over in Crockett told me she’d grow out of her cantankerous nature in, oh, about a year’s time. Ya just gotta keep her contained, ya understand. And entertained. And feed her plenty of bananas. Oh, and ya gotta stay on top of cleaning up after her or things’ll get rank pretty quick.”

Dad said, “Sarge, thanks for the advice. I know Marva’s gonna love her new home.”

Marva seemed to take a liking to me, I could tell. She jumped excitedly into my arms and tried to kiss me and muss up my hair and she flailed about with such wild abandon I thought she might poke my eye out. Dad finally gave me the cue – a little tug on his earlobe – that it was time we got moving, so we thanked Marvin Bender and bid him good riddance, but not before I saw Dad slip him some bills.

On the way to the car, I asked, “Dad, how much did you pay for Marva?” Dad lightheartedly said, “None of your bizz-wax, son. Marva’s my gift for the family. I suspect she’ll make quite an addition to the existing menagerie. What do you think? Everyone’s really gonna love her. Are you okay with her? I can see you’re smitten, son.”

Dad always had that way of asking a question and answering it before I could respond or express my opinion. Climbing in the driver’s seat, I said, “I sure hope so, Dad.”

While I piloted the Bobcat back home Dad kept Marva entertained. Marvin had thrown in a handful of bananas in the deal, and Marva made a proper mess of things in the car and all over Dad, too, but he didn’t seem overly concerned. Everything up to now left me with a funny feeling as I watched Marva sitting contentedly on Dad’s lap like a good little girl flashing a toothy smile and a whimpering whine every so often.

I concentrated on keeping my eyes on the road and not on Marva. I never imagined this is what Dad had in mind when he talked about our exotic new pet. But I also couldn’t help but thinking, why would Dad bring a creature like Marva into our life? Who on earth would ever bring a monkey home as a pet? As it was, Mom was already completely fed up with the animals we had. She was the one who had to clean up their poop and wipe down the cages, bathe, groom and take them to the vet, and buy extra milk for the stray cats. No wonder she always seemed angry.

But more than anything, Mom was perturbed by Dad’s drinking. His alcoholism made her despise him and despair for her weak and worthless husband who couldn’t hold down a job, pay the bills, or stay sober even of a Sunday. But he was my dad. I loved him and trusted him and sometimes got mad at Mom for berating him. Even though I was only a sixteen-year-old kid, I knew that Dad had suffered terribly in the war against the Japanese. Didn’t Mom know that, too? That Dad had fought in awful battles and had nearly been killed on Iwo Jima when shell fragments blasted part of his skull. That he had never gotten proper treatment for his shellshock and brain trauma.

So he turned to the bottle for solace, to fill the hole in his heart for unspeakable acts of violence and brutality he witnessed in the war, to drown out the nightmares of killing and soften the images of butchery and savagery he endured.

Well, guess who was standing at the door with her arms crossed when I pulled the Bobcat into the driveway. Mom. I could tell something wasn’t right. It was probably because we were about two hours past our return time and she must be worried sick. We got out of the car with the monkey on Dad’s back squealing obscenely and flailing about. At the incongruent sight of her husband giving a piggyback ride to a monkey, Mom lost it. Half of her looked stunned to the bone and the other three-quarters she was madder than I’ve ever seen. Clueless or willfully ignorant, Dad reached up over his shoulders and grabbed our new pet, holding her up high, and cheerfully announced to his wife, now joined at the doorstep by my four wide-eyed siblings, “Surprise, honey! This here, why this is our cute little Marva! The newest addition to our household! Whatta y’all think? She’s a bit wild, but don’t worry, we’ll train her.”

“We’ll what?” I could see the firestorm of invective coming from a mile away. I could already feel her searing anger like a branding iron. Poor Marva was squirming fiercely in an effort to get loose and run, but Dad held her tight and tried to explain. Mom was having none of it. I hung my head, looking sheepishly at my shuffling feet, thinking, why did Mom always have to get so darned pissed off at things? In defense of Dad, whatever feelings I may have had before, now I was having trouble understanding why Mom couldn’t see how neat it would be having Marva as our new pet? All my friends would be so impressed! And who wouldn’t be? No one had a pet monkey!

A horrible argument broke out. Mom was mercilessly skewering Dad. Marva was shaking, terrified by the spectacle. My little brother was crying and my two older sisters were taking Mom’s side. Dad tried to console Marva, defending her as an innocent party. He accused Mom of upsetting her and making things worse. He handed the shivering simian to me where she buried her head in my neck and shrieked until Dad had had enough. “Just shut up! Would everyone please just shut up for one minute and let me explain things!”

 But Dad had run out of fumes. He stood there dejectedly hanging his head while we all looked on in shame. Then Mom screamed a furious ultimatum at the top of her lungs.

“Tommy Burns, as God is my witness, this is the final straw! Either that damn monkey goes, or I go!”

###

The dust settled. A few days passed. Honestly, I have to tell you, I wasn’t all that sorry to see her go.