I'm telling you - you haven't lived until you've stretched out in fresh sweet hay next to a friendly pig and wrapped yourself around her warm, strong body and dozed off listening to hens cluck and birds singing and the quiet sounds of a barn on a spring afternoon. Those seeking security, grounding and reassurance that all is well with the world on a deep and basic level would find it, I suspect, in the company of this remarkable pig.

Meditating with Charlotte is a more sensuous experience than meditating with turkeys. The turkeys hum with deep vibration that is quiet and serene, much like the sounds from a BIG Tibetan singing bowl. Their feathers, feet and faces are alien and remind me that there is much in this world that I do not understand, that there are many ways to see the world that I cannot comprehend.

But meditating with Charlotte is like laying down with Buddha: in the powerful mass of her body I can feel the vast goodness of the earth and beyond;in her grunts of contentment I can hear the sound of blessings acknowledged; in her smiling welcome is a reminder of how many ways there are to dance with another being. We are so often moved to action that it is good to have animals around us who remind us that some of life's finest pleasures are to be found in quiet and stillness. Naps are good, and naps with a good friend are even better.

I nearly changed this to the past tense, as Charlotte left us in the barn fire of 2004. But in re-reading these old words, I realized that what she gave me still exists within me. All the feelings remain, a gift from a pig who lived life large and well. In passing along some sense of what she gave me, I hope there's a little immortality for her beyond my love, my heart, my memory, that when I too am gone, others will have a little Charlotte in their memories.

With love & tears for Charlotte - gone from us March 17, 2004.