September is gone. October is here.

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This month we are entering (now that September came and went) feels quite bittersweet as I search my heart over and over again for my Mirror. Yes, I know he sleeps in my prayer flag forest, but my heart is still somewhat crushed, and it's almost a year now that he left my side to go Home. Now that I am stronger, the Pack and I are back to visiting Coyote Hill every day. 

You see, the end of August brought SARS-CoV-2 into the Pencilfox house. No, the virus wasn't welcome here, and I had done everything I could possibly do to remain unaffected, but, it slipped in somehow and grabbed us both by the scruffs of our necks and shook us hard. 

Mister Pencilfox spent 8 days in the local hospital, and, meanwhile, I stayed home to tend to the Pack. I fell deeply into a COVID state, quite ill and unable to hold anything other than water. I truly believe I was looking Death in the face.....I knew it could come for me all too easily.....but our beloved animals kept my focus upward and away from Darkness. A friend told me that she believes animals are capable of changing energy, and if that's what happened, I can give credence to this belief. Pintō and Berry and Milo lay'd guard around me. I love them for this. 

When Mister Pencilfox came home from the hospital, he was shocked at my gaunt appearance. Hell, I was shocked at the empty shell looking back at me from the mirror. He set to feeding me what I call "junk food" but it tasted good and it put some calories back into me. It didn't hold much nutritional value, but it was salty and tasty and served its purpose. Now I am back to consuming real food. 

Mister Pencilfox declined again, and now he is 7 days into a second hospital stay as the Doctors determine the cause for his pneumonia. "It's worrisome," they say. "But, we are working on it." He is growing stronger, yet a curious virus or bacteria or something is fighting against complete healing. At this point. I know that the staff is doing all they can to get him the heck outta there and home again. 

Meanwhile, I am sewing masks for him and for me. Yes, I've probably got some real good immunity built up at this point. But I don't think I've got another COVID in me. I really don't think I could do this again. It is easy for me to comprehend how people succumb to this virus. It's plumb crazy. It boggles my mind. And, no, I do not want to debate the origins of it. It simply exists and that is all I know. 

I find myself repeating I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. 

But this I do know: 

I am thankful to be alive and able to help do the winterizing around Pencilfox Acres, tasks and chores that Mister Pencilfox would be doing if he were home. It's crazy to think I went up Coyote Hill while still ill and pulled all the garden stakes and rolled the pea fence and stored all the tools, all by myself. Yet it had to be done. Two guy buddies (brothers, really) came out and did the guy-stuff that Mister Pencilfox could not do when he was home before the second hospitalization. Another friend delivered ginger ale and chicken soup and prescribed medicine to the door, food and necessities for me while I was in the thick of it all. And, another friend texted me every day to check on me. 

This point of this post is not to garner pity or more assistance. I am simply telling you, all of September is gone to us. This ain't the time of year for this to happen, most inconveniently, but it did. I am sure we will come out on the other end of this stronger and more appreciative of each other and our friends who helped us. 

If I did not call you or keep you informed, it certainly was not because I was disrespectful. Believe me when I say, I was so weak I could barely speak, and my were intentions were geared towards keeping the Pack tended-to, and keeping myself headed in the direction of Light. 

For those who meditated or prayed for us, or just simply spoke our names to the Universe, we thank you. 

Please, all, wear a mask, keep some distance from others, and stay as safe as you possibly can. 

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It's a good life. 

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