Recently, I killed a squirrel—intentionally.
I was walking our dog, Lester, along a country road near our house, when suddenly he scared up the little cutie. He tore after it, racing through a thicket of trees, and then back toward me, where the squirrel ducked into a culvert. Lester followed and came bounding up with the squirrel in his mouth. I took hold of his collar and forced him to drop it, but immediately I saw the little guy with brown eyes was badly injured. He tried crawling away, but his hind end was bloody and paralyzed. I felt myself freaking out, so I called on the Beloved to find the strength and guidance inside.
For much of my life I have seen myself as a champion of animals. I do my best to save them. I donate to the Santa Fe Animal Shelter and often find myself helping strays. Both our dog and cat are rescues. I’ve moved a bull snake off a road just before a big truck came, rescued a blind poodle in an arroyo, and saved countless birds, lizards, and spiders.
So, as I watched this injured squirrel, I fought with every fiber of my being about what to do. I knew I had to end its life. My heart was beating out of my chest with emotion over this action. Finally, knowing I had to stop its suffering, I picked up a rock and did the deed.
My hope was that the coyotes and foxes that live in our neighborhood would benefit from its death, and of course the squirrel itself was out of misery. However, over the next few days, the image of my killing that squirrel kept returning, and I started doubting myself. Could I have saved the little guy? Could I have picked him up somehow and taken him to our local Wildlife Center for rehabilitation? All these doubts about my decision completely stole my love.
Once I rested and found a little distance, I saw a truer reality. During the incident, I was a distance from home and could not have picked up the squirrel and carried him without harming myself. Also, killing that squirrel was merciful. It had to be done. And even more importantly, the squirrel lives beyond that body and will manifest a new incarnation soon enough.
This experience led me to question my attachment to saving animals. Yes, I want to always be of service to any person, animal or even plant to help them when they need it. But if I am attached to the savior identity, how can I be available to execute the Beloved’s will in the now?
When I let go of that identity, I become an open channel to do Thy will, which, in this instance, was to release an animal from its misery.
The root of this savior identity is that I tend to view animals as victims, rather than the powerful Godly beings they are, with their own set of teachings they must go through. This stilted view of them reflects my own view of myself as a victim. Though it is much more subtle now than it was years ago, still, sometimes, I feel overpowered by life’s challenges, and have a sense that I can’t face them. And of course, I can’t—alone.
However, more and more I’m coming to see that, with the Beloved, I can easily meet any challenge.
This knowingness gives me great power, and I’ve come to understand more deeply the Biblical verse that says, “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulders.” When I truly know and trust this inner Power, this soul child birthing within me, I can never be a victim because I am responsible for governing my state of consciousness. No one else, not my boyfriend, my family, or the government. In every moment, I choose whether to be shoved around by the lower worlds or to unite with the inner Love!
The government of my life is upon my shoulders. When I practice this, I become my own savior; I can embrace this responsibility and celebrate the blissful freedom it brings.
Thank you Leslie for sharing this very ‘in the life’ moment with the dying
squirrel and compassionate mercy and making that choice…in the mix
and acting with a larger viewpoint…
Thank you, Diane. I love that phrase you used, “acting with a larger viewpoint.” Lately I have been so appreciating the ability to, with the Beloved, adjust my viewpoint higher. Mind will start with its Pinda view, and then I’ll work my way up to pure freedom. It is such a gift that we all have from our Master.
Thank you Lesley. Your story brought to mind wonderful book I finished reading today called Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton. It’s the true story of a lady who came across a seemingly abandoned leveret whilst out walking and after much contemplation, takes it home to nurse it back to health. She succeeds in raising it to adulthood but is so mindful of not wanting to domesticate it – she never touches it and doesn’t give it a name, yet it lives in her house and she adapts her lifestyle to fit it instead of the other way round. So much shabda in this book, I really recommend it and builds on some of the themes you mention here Lesley.
Thank you for that book recommendation and kind comment, Chloe. It sounds like a beautiful gross contemplation on detachment. I will check it out.
A most timely reflection, useful on many levels. For me, particularly apt as I leave open to Master’s guidance whether I will help or harm the spirit of my aging dog, if I adopt a second, younger dog now.
Thank you for sharing this, Niki. I grasp your dilemma. We come to love these animal friends so deeply. I am sure the guidance will come.
Absolute perfection, Lesley. Once again, you’ve delivered the exact message I needed to hear and I’m grateful for that. I’ve fallen into victim mentality much too often lately and your post helped me acknowledge that fully. Baraka Bashad!
Thank you, Marian. Boy, I relate. That is my mind’s go-to state: victim. I’m just so happy to SEE it, and have the power, with the Master, to move upward into the Real, the True, the Shabda!
Lesley: A beutiful example of one of life’s many journeys; for me it’s letting go and evolving spiritually. Thank you for helping me on my journey.
John, thank you for your note. Yes, for me, too, letting go truly is the first step in evolving spiritually. Such a great reminder.
Lesley, thank you for this wonderful inspiring message. And just when I needed it most. I cannot think of a truer more special way to describe what life with the Master is all about.
That’s so kind of you, Mark. We are so fortunate to have this “life with the Master.”
Some realizations are hard won and bittersweet. The subtlety and depth of understanding can take us all the way to release of long held self concepts by depending on and allowing the Master Teacher to lovingly show the way. What an amazing knowingness.
Beautifully said! Yes, we are so guided.
“The root of this savior identity is that I tend to view animals as victims, rather than the powerful Godly beings they are, with their own set of teachings they must go through.” Unfortunately, I do this with humans, too. As a parent, I am always reminded to not fret over my son’s experiences. Thank you for the reminder that I am not a victim and that with the Beloved I can overcome any challenge.
Thank you, Casper. I also have to be reminded to let humans have their own experience. It’s a constant practice! Fortunately, our Beloved nudges me along, teaching me how to “let them.”
I had a somewhat similar experience a week ago but it didn’t involve having to kill an animal (thankfully). I am living in my camper until I get my home built and have been plagued from time to time by mice. I stopped counting long ago the number of mice that have met their demise in my traps.
About a week ago as I was watching a movie late one night I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a baby mouse no bigger than a quarter. Unlike all the other mice I have seen or caught in my traps, this little guy was so young and trusting he just continued to come up to me. Without barely any effort I picked him up and was able to hold him in the open palm of my hand.
My first inclination was to flush him down the toilet the way I do with the dead mice in my traps. As I stood over the toilet ready to end his life by drowning (not nearly as instantaneous as my traps), he looked up from my open palm, so trusting and helpless, and I knew I couldn’t do it. So I walked out into the dark woods surrounding my house and let him go.
I know there is the possibility he will eventually make it back to my house and into my trap. But that will be the Master’s will, not mine. As I look at the picture I took of the little guy looking up so trustingly from the palm of my hand I realized the message the Master had just gifted me. I AM THE MOUSE IN THE HAND OF THE MASTER. As long as I put my trust in him, NOTHING can ever harm me!
I hope to see you at the upcoming seminar so I can share with you the picture of me in the hand of the Master.