The big (little) news at our house is Pearl, aka Lambchop. Pearl is a thrown-away puppy who somehow made her way under our house, where we heard her crying. I know from animal communication with Pearl that she was not the only puppy thrown from the window of that moving car. Hurled one-by-one into a cold, foreign place just as the sun was going down, each puppy was suddenly on its own, unable to find its siblings. Just a few days after New Year’s, Pearl came to us starving and dehydrated, being eaten alive by hundreds of fleas and dozens of ticks. She had mange, and, we later discovered, Parvovirus. All alone at less than twelve weeks of age, this 3.2 pound puppy had survived freezing cold temperatures and the terrifying sound of New Year’s fireworks by digging a hole in the soft ground under a fallen tree and burying herself under leaves. Now, after lots of TLC and good vet care, we know that she’s going to be okay. And though we don’t need any more dogs, I’m afraid that once she’s completely healed from her mange and the trauma she had to go through, I may be unable to let her go and live with anyone else. I asked her what she wants, and she says she doesn’t want anything more than the chance we’re giving her to survive. This little nugget may be more than a tiny survivor. She may be an ascended master we can all learn from.