I've had lots of awe-inspiring animal encounters, but the craziest was probably the one with "Big Jim" in Sedona, AZ.
I was visiting a friend who lived in an apartment house, and we used to sit out on their porch that ran the whole length of the apartment building.
One day we were sitting out there -- I on the floor because there weren't enough chairs -- and the neighbor's door opens and out walks this humungous
green iguana. With the tail, he must have been about 7 feet long; the circumference of his head was that of a small dog. My friend said his name was
Big Jim and he was 13 years old, and that he liked to sunbathe on the porch; the neighbor kept him in a huge terrarium in her living room.
I was shocked; I'm not really into lizards, and that thing was a little too close for comfort. As I was thinking that, he looked at me, turned around
and started walking straight towards me. I was pulling back, kind of scared and not knowing what he was going to do. So he stopped, looked at me with
obvious exasperation, and then turned away from me, as if he was saying, "Oh geez, what a wimp!" So I calmed myself down and looked at him and tried
to see the beauty in this monster of a lizard, and vowed to myself if he came up again, this time I wouldn't flinch.
Again, as I was thinking that, he looked at me like he was checking me out, and started to move toward me again. But instead of coming straight to me,
he brushed closely by me and proceeded to walk through the open door into my friend's apartment, occasionally looking back as if saying, "Follow me."
So I did. He calmly walked into the living room and hopped on the couch and then on the back of the couch, where he sat, waiting. So I cautiously
walked to the couch and in my mind asked him if it would be OK to sit with him. I got no negative vibes, so I carefully sat down on the couch and
leaned my head against the back, directly facing him, and closed my eyes.
What happened then is hard to describe. I felt my third eye open with a vigor I've never before or since experienced. His seemed to do the same (I
learned later that lizards have a real, physical third eye they sense with), and the most amazing communication ensued between us. There were no words
or images; it was just this unbelievable creature-to-creature, soul-to-soul communication and total, wordless understanding. I've never seen anything
like it. Some of the others had followed us into the living room to see what was going on, and I heard one of them say, "Oh my God, I saw her third
Big Jim and I remained like that for maybe 10 minutes (even though it felt like ages), and then he started moving, slowly climbed down from the back
of the couch and onto my lap. I put my arm around him, and we sat there. It felt a total union of man and animal, and the emotional warmth and
connection was just indescribable. Finally my legs started to tingle (this guy weighed a LOT!), and I mentally asked him to get off my legs.
Immediately, he moved and hopped down on the floor and back onto the porch where he proceeded sunbathing. I was completely out of it for another half
hour or so.
BTW, hearing about the incident, Big Jim's owner said later that while he was tame, he wasn't really a "pet" pet, i.e., in 13 years, he had not once
sat in her lap or anything like that. I felt incredibly honored to have that encounter.
Once, when my husband, son, and I went to a campground in New Hampshire, I tamed some chipmunks that were living around our cabin. I fed them small
crumbs of health-food oat granola bars until one of them finally got fed up, climbed up on my legs and ripped the whole bar out of my hand.
For some reason, in our family I always seem to be the one who rescues little critters that can't find their way out of our garage, from dragonflies
to humming birds or little songbirds... and they all seem to just trust me and feel comfortable with me almost instantly. It would probably be more if
we didn't have two very spirited dogs and a cat that chase most of the wildlife off (or even hunt it down and eat it; unfortunately, the chipmunks
around our home usually don't have a long life).
Human/wild-animal communication and contact is just one of the most awe-some things we can be blessed with. I
edit on 11-1-2013 by sylvie
because: (no reason given)