Diamond is the subject of this week’s post because she is fabulous, adorable, and the star of a really great intuitive moment. Or as I like to call them, psychic stories.
The telling of a psychic story is a way to pull intuition out of the margins, which is where our society sends the things we’re most uncomfortable with. In the case of intuition, we’ve banished it into the darkest part of the farthest corner of the margins. It’s on an almost eternal time out. So when we share and re-tell psychic stories we’re actually participating in the best way to heal intuitive isolation. That’s because most of us are taught to regard our intuition warily. We’re just a little uncomfortable with the word psychic and think the experiences the word describes are weird and unusual. And that’s the whole point of consciously telling our stories out loud. By observing ourselves while talking about intuition, we can learn a lot about how we frame it. And why. I believe it’s also a great way to expose the pervasive myths we’ve all internalized about how unreliable, silly, mysterious, and murky our intuition is.
So. Back to Diamond, who is a great example of how if you just went with how things look, you might not see what’s really there. First of all, she is as you can see, a bulldog. Bulldogs are boomin’, folks. And Diamond represents her breed well. She is magnificently built. She exudes strength from every inch of her bad ass self. Even I, an unapologetically affectionate dog lover, felt myself sort of hesitate when I met her. For no other reason than I noticed she has the physique to be very dangerous if she wanted to.
Of course, that potential exists within any dog actually, or horse, or elephant, and I have met a few of those creatures for the first time as well and had the same thought. “You are in possession of all the equipment necessary to take me out”. And yet I am still alive and unmaimed, so conceivably all of those interactions were with individual animals that had no need to squish, trample, or chomp me. But I know that they know that I know. They could.
Diamond could, for sure. She wouldn’t, though. And she knows that I know that she wouldn’t.
This was the great beginning to our inter-species friendship. A sort of psychic sizing up.
But what was fascinating about our lunch date, was that every time I looked over at her, I did a double-take. Because almost immediately I knew what she was really like. Her spirit is best represented by the first photo up at the top of this piece. That picture, my friends, is truth. She is the most unbelievably squishy kind of cute. To die for, reduce me to baby talk and blow raspberries on her wittle tummy adorable. She is undeniably sweet as well, following me around as I got the tour of her person’s home, and staying close enough to me throughout lunch to give me a delicate little kiss on my foot from time to time.
And to tell you the truth, I have a feeling Diamond still thinks of herself that way 10 years later, and is a little surprised at the grown-up body she ended up with. The next morning, I woke up with a sort of tightness in my right shoulder. As the waves of sleep receded, I very clearly saw Diamond at home, limping on a sore front right paw. She looked up at me and said, “Could you tell Amy that my right front paw still hurts? It’s numb. And the muscles in my neck are having a hard time holding my head up. They are so tight it’s affecting the circulation down my leg. I can’t feel my paw very well and I can’t twist to clean it very well. A massage would help”.
I flashed back to how sweet she had been to give me a foot treatment (my right foot now that I think of it) during my meal with her person.
I messaged Amy asap that morning. Turns out Diamond does have a limp, some sores on her front right paw, and….doggie massage does exist.
Nobody puts Diamond, or their intuition, in a corner. Not on my watch.
“If people want something to be wrong about you— they are going to make things wrong about you. That is why it is my belief to never try and prove anything to anyone. Real diamonds belong to people who know how to spot a real diamond; they don’t belong to people who need to be convinced that they are real diamonds. It’s the idiots who need to be convinced of something that they cannot already see.”
― C. JoyBell C.
Diamond’s person, Amy Selwyn, wrote a deeply moving tribute to her recently. You can read it here.