We're packing up to leave the dharma farm. Guile's death, and the impossibility of knowing the what, how, and why of it, has taken the last lingering and dusty remnants of charm from the place. The big old chicken barn semi-converted into a fairly liveable home for humans that once was quirky and fun is now just unfit and sad. The poison that took our sweet and guileless Guile from us was probably meant to protect chickens whose lives had no value to their keepers beyond the eggs they produced. This is a place of sadness, suffering, and death, which we had hoped to redeem, but we are simply exhausted by grief and our only wish for this place now is to leave it.
We've found a lovely place, on the water and private but not isolated. Its charms are more suited to humans and dogs and cats than chickens, and we're looking forward to the peaceful, healing atmosphere of this little beach cottage. Shiva is beside himself with excitement, as he always is at the beach. I look forward to his exuberant and ecstatic romps in and around the water, and I hope that his joy at simply being there never wanes. His happiness is such a balm to my own heart.
Wishing you all peaceful places to hang your hearts and hats, and gloriously happy dogs to track mud through them.
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