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"I am ze locksmith of love, no?" - Pepe Le Pew, 1949

Okay…I am having a terrible problem. Well, to be precise, my cats - Boomer and Squeak -- are having a terrible problem.

Late at night -- every night -- a skunk visits my house.

It's like clockwork. For a few minutes shortly after 1am this fat skunk waddles right up to my patio window and glares into my apartment. Every night.

My cats, crouched and pensive, wait patiently behind the curtain. It's like they know he's coming. And when that skunk's bold white stripe and shiny black eyes appear, Boomer and Squeak get real low and slow…as cats do. Cautiously, they approach and all three stare at one another, unblinking, with their furry little faces pressed close to the window.

Usually there is a slight pause and then the throaty meowing begins. Then the skunk waddles off the porch and quickly scurries down the garden pathway. Gone.

When first I saw the skunk, who I have since named Henry, I had a moment of protective cat-owner panic.

I grabbed the nearest weapon available to me….a Swiffer…and waved it menacingly at the glass door. Henry just glared at me, tail up, astonished…probably wondering what strange sort of human ritual were being performed. Certainly, he was unimpressed.

So what was this all about? To the mystic, you see, everything has a meaning. Especially so, when it comes to you from nature.

In recent weeks I have been trying to learn to trust again. I have had a difficult few months and, have recently found it hard to accept people, believe what is said to me and…well…just generally open my heart. These things take time, I suppose, and I certainly need time. Lots of it.

Henry, though, waits for no one. He just waddles up to the door, peers in, listens to the growling and observes the waving of the Swiffer; relaxed, gentle and altogether wild. Henry is relentless.

Love, love, love…is this all about love? I think it is.

Carl Jung once wrote about one of his clients….a young woman…who was worried because a large black crow had developed the habit of walking passed her window early in the morning. It was not until there was a death in her family that the crow finally stopped appearing. Jung interpreted the crow's appearance as a metaphoric lesson and then wrote extensively about the collective unconscious, the trickster, the shadow, the magician and the wise old man.

'How did the crow know?' he asked. 'And where did this knowledge come from?'

Henry visits because I can't keep myself locked away waving Swiffers at people anymore. It just won't work. At some point my heart, like that glass door, will have to open. Nature always knows.

That is why Henry visits.

For January 22, 2015
Cancer Cancer
(June 22-July 22)

Image: "A fleet of hot air balloons wafting over the city"
Message: Magical dreams.

Work mates and close friends offer unexpected romantic advice. Age appropriate relationships, fast proposals or past social history may be a prime concern. Stay balanced and avoid lengthy public discussions. Emotional decisions are best kept private.

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