I can’t remember a time my dreams didn’t include animals in one way or another. Starting Empowering Animals, bringing people and animals together, that is part of that dream. I have a vision. I just don’t know yet how all of it will unfold. What I do know is that something in me feels unfinished without it. Like there’s a piece of my soul that only makes sense when I’m doing this. The magazine cover was a fun AI prompt. But it also felt like a glimpse of a dream that could be. Dreams aren’t meant to show us the whole path. They just keep pointing us in a direction so we don’t forget who we are.

I just learned about this incredible creature today. There are so many animals to discover and ones you now have to wonder if they are AI generated. Which is sad in itself. We really need to leave real life alone and get back to community. But that’s another post. This one is on the pink fairy armadillo. The name alone had my full attention. I am attaching the video I watched. It is complete and very educational. Although I would love to have one of my own, wildlife needs to stay wild. Let the pink fairy into your heart on this beautiful Sunday, and enjoy what the day brings you.

There’s something about this time of year that gives us that little burst of energy to get outside, clean things up, and start fresh. A little decluttering and reorganizing of the yard and garden. 👩‍🌾🌷 As the earth begins to bloom again, it’s easy to notice what’s growing. And sometimes that includes things we don’t think twice about. Have you ever seen a tree completely wrapped in ivy, it can look almost beautiful at first. But over time, that ivy can slowly take over. It blocks light, adds weight, and it holds moisture against the bark and eventually, it can weaken or even kill the tree. I witnessed this sadness in my neighbor's yard and after that, I didn't allow Ivy on my trees again. Trees support birds, insects, wildlife and so many other forms of life and helping the trees can be surprisingly simple. There’s a method often taught in volunteer programs where you cut the ivy around the base of the tree, then clear a small section up the trunk (about 2 to 3 feet). That gap keeps the vines from reconnecting and stops the flow of nutrients to the ivy above. The rest is left alone to die back naturally over time. Here’s one short video that shows how it works. It’s one of those small actions that can make a real difference over time. Do you have trees being strangled by ivy or are you looking for some volunteer ideas? Call your local parks department or conservation group for information on programs near you. You will be surprised on how many trees need our help. Share your ideas for spring projects and volunteering below.

Do you love finding those little hole-in-the-wall, magical places on road trips like I do? My friend told me about one she discovered last week in Oatman, AZ. It is an old mining town that their only residents remaining are the descendance of pack animals from the mining days. What makes it special isn’t just the old buildings or the stretch of Route 66 running through it, it’s the wild donkeys wandering through town freely, like they own the place. Which technically, I think this does meet the definition of homesteading. These special creatures have adapted over time to living in the wild and to the tourists that stop in to say hi. There are a few stores set up in the one-street town to sell approved hay cubes to feed them. Other food is strictly prohibited for the animals' safety. So, if you are ever passing through Arizona, look up Oatman and stop in and say hey to the wild donkeys. Take a picture of their smiling faces and share a post with us of your experience. Do you have any cool road trip haunts you would like to share?

I went to the tulip festival this past weekend with a friend, and the daffodils were still in bloom. The smell reminded me of the Jasmine that grew in my backyard in Texas, and the feelings came rushing back about my cat, The Gurl. Gurl came to me through C.L.A.W.S., a feral cat rescue I founded and ran for several years in Montana. She was a peach-faced gray tortoise shell beauty with the confidence of a regal princess. She knew what she liked and she had no qualms living life to the fullest. She loved playing with toys day and night and filled up the food dish with them on a regular basis. She patrolled her backyard like a guard cat, and somehow always had a pet frog. We even had matching furniture so we could sit on the back patio together. A few days before she passed, the look in her eyes told me she was ready. I was devastated, but I had asked her to choose her time because two years earlier, I had to make that decision for her brother and sister, and I didn’t think my heart could do that again. She had to choose. And she did. On June 6, 2015, she chose a spot under the jasmine vine in her favorite place to be, her backyard. It was both painfully heartbreaking, and yet a strange kind of relief, knowing she went on her own terms. The next morning, I felt numb and alone. It was just me now, and I was lost in the pain of it all. I can still hear myself asking the question, "Gurl, how am I going to make it without you?" And then I cried... a lot. I pulled myself out of bed and went into the kitchen. I had a clear view into the backyard through the big windows on the French doors, and I could see a balloon resting in the jasmine vines. I lived off a main road in a mostly industrial area. There were no houses directly around my condo building, so it struck me as odd. When I went outside to get the balloon, I saw that it had writing on it, and my mouth dropped as I read it: "My how time flies. I cannot believe it is graduation time already. Always follow your heart and dreams and shoot for the stars."