Bengal, as you can see from the photos, is a beauty. I know him only from photos, but I hear about him through the stories my mother tells me. Mom is an animal lover. I got part of my passion for animals from her, and the other half from Dad. Dad was the official enjoyer of the animals in our family life, and Mom was the caretaker. Old habits die slowly. Some never do. Dad is long gone, and Mom is still the animal helper at the ripe old age of 87.
She used to care for a small tribe of timid feral cats outside her Novato, California, home, getting them all neutered and spayed after she found good homes for their babies. The cats were fed and cared for first, as were all the animals in our household, all her life. They lived in the creek out her back door, and she and her neighbor fixed them up a place in a garden shed. She cared for them until the day she left the area, and then her neighbor took over. I believe at least some members of that small tribe are still there by that creek, where Mom said goodbye to them a decade ago. Read the rest of this entry »
I write books and tell stories. But more important, I'm still an awestruck child when it comes to animals, nature, and spirit. I love to ponder the place where these intersect. In my experience, that place is holy ground, healing ground. Thank you for spending some moments here. I hope you'll return again and again. 
