My Shaman is coming to the end of his time here in this world, he is now 35 years old and sadly doesn't look like this anymore. He is loosing his sight and hearing and lives for his twice daily warm feeds of bran, pellets, molasses, 3 mixes of chaff and extra bits of love thrown in. I see him some afternoons just gazing out over the valley and imagine him remembering his wonderful life and hopefully the times we shared and dreaming of where his next journey will take him. I often see horses in the clouds, dancing and running free, I know my Shaman sees them too and will one day join them.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Shaman's Moondance
My Shaman is coming to the end of his time here in this world, he is now 35 years old and sadly doesn't look like this anymore. He is loosing his sight and hearing and lives for his twice daily warm feeds of bran, pellets, molasses, 3 mixes of chaff and extra bits of love thrown in. I see him some afternoons just gazing out over the valley and imagine him remembering his wonderful life and hopefully the times we shared and dreaming of where his next journey will take him. I often see horses in the clouds, dancing and running free, I know my Shaman sees them too and will one day join them.
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