Calling Cory

A Treasured Spiritual Bond

When I lived in the desert outside Las Vegas, my beloved dog, Cory, an Akita/Collie mix (with a curly tail and long nose), loved to wander through the sandy scrub-brush for miles, no doubt searching for small critters. He was a large, mellow guy, white, black and orange patches of fur, handsome and dignified. I adored him.

He had belonged to our neighbor, a tall elderly man, a weaver who quietly worked his looms all day, creating colorful intricate patterns. Cory began to visit my home across the street when, perhaps, he tired of the gently clacking rhythms of the wooden machine parts. Childless at the time, I fed him treats and played with him, slowly falling in love. After a year, Mr. Mercer became seriously ill and he was relieved to bequeath Cory to me.

When Cory wandered on his daily rounds, he strayed too far away to hear my call. How could I let him know it was time for dinner or for a ride in the car? One day, while sitting in meditation, I thought, Why not communicate with Cory this way? I sent thoughts to him, “Cory, time to come home. Please come home.” Five minutes later, I heard a slight rustle and opened my eyes. He sat before me with his head held high, regarding me with a serious expression, front arms crossed over each other, as if he were Jeeves the butler, asking “You called, Ma’am?” A coincidence perhaps.

But every day, I repeated the mental commands. The trick was, I had to stop whatever I was doing, calm myself and, when at peace, visualize my beautiful dog, trotting across the sands, probably sticking his lengthy nose in a mole hole, sniffing. Or I dwelled on a feeling – my love for him and how much I wanted to be with him. Once in this calm, focused zone, I mentally called him home.

Over the years, it worked every time. Cory always came home when I called to him in meditation. Although he’s been gone for many years, Cory and I forged a spiritual connection that I still treasure today.

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