Loco Tita

Meet Loco Tita.  Born Tita Mannella Marie

Now, this bird has a story.  Loco Tita used to be your average chicken.  She got up every morning, laid an egg, then headed out of the coop to scratch in the dirt with the rest of the girls.  In fact, she was so average that she was rarely noticed at all.  And that is how, one evening when the other girls were ushered into the coop for the night, Tita was left behind.

By the time she had realized she had been left out for the night, the full moon had already climbed up over the Santiago Mountains and was illuminating the Land Beyond the barnyard.  Now, a chicken out after dark in coyote country might sound like a bad thing, but Tita wasn't particularly worried.  In fact, a strange calmness or peacefulness had fallin' over her and she delighted in following the intoxicating scents into the Land Beyond.

I wish I could tell you what happened to Tita that night, but I cannot, for she hasn't shared her story with others.  All that is known, is that the moon was particularly big and bright that night.  The local coyotes had set up such a ruckus and howl that the chickens secure in the coop feared for their little chicken lives.

The next morning when the chicken door was once again opened, Tito the rooster, found Tita in the barnyard, passed out on her back - little chicken legs straight up in the air, a halo of wild flowers woven upon her head, and the unmistakable scent of coyote clinging suggestively to her chicken-ness.

When she awoke, her eyes were forever crooked - she seemed to see that which the other chickens could not see.  Where Tita was barely noticed before, she was now sought out for her strange ability to "read" chicken feet.  Many a hen has come to Tita to have her chicken fortunes told.

Sometimes, when the moon is particularly full and bright, and the coyotes howl in the distance, Tita looks out to the Land Beyond with longing and desire...

Tito Miguel Salvino

Meet Tito, born Tito Miguel Salvino.

Tito loves the chickens.  How can he not?  Those round fluffy feathered rear-ends call to him.  He has serenaded many a chicken under the light of the full moon.  He really is quite the romantic bird.

He is a masculine chicken, although he is very much in touch with his soft sensitive side.  It is this side of him that sometimes cries when he looks at particularly colorful sunset or sees a pair of fine feathered pantaloons waddle by.

Tito has a certain panache - chicken's and rooster's alike are drawn to him.  He has a flair for the dramatic.  When he plays his guitar and sings, he like to think he is Elvis.  He has even considered heading off to Vegas to try his luck as an Elvis impersonator.  But alas, he could never leave his chickens and his sweet little place on this earth.

A Reminder

Sometimes, we think we know why we are somewhere.  And sometimes, the Universe has plans we don't know about.  That clearly happened at the Farmer's Market today.  I went there to sell my wares and advertise my art and business.  I did those things, but I also assisted in someones healing AND that assisted in my healing.

A woman walked into my booth this morning.  I would guess she was about 65 or so.  She was outwardly gregarious, but appeared to me to carry some past wounds.  She was here for the UC Davis graduation.  We chatted and she left.

Then, she came back again.  We chatted, she bought a card and left.

She returned for a third time.  This time, it was amazing watching her body language.  She was picking at her clothing, clutching her arms, letting them go and fussing with her clothes again.  Then, she started choking herself.  She would put both of her hands up on her throat like she was choking herself.  She kept doing it over and over, in-between fussing with the rest of her body.

I opened my heart to her and sent her ease.  I sensed she was choking her words off.  I wanted to be open for her - to receive what she had to say.

And then it poured out, she told me all about her best friend  - who is dying.  She described how for the past several years she has slowly watched her dear friend begin to loose her faculties.  Last year she could use her hands, now she can't.  This year, her friend is loosing her words.  This seemed to really scare her.  How would her friend communicate to her?  How would she know what to do for her friend?

At this point we both started to cry.  I stood up and held her.  I assured her she would know what to do with her friend - and if she didn't - just love her.  I told her to connect with her eyes and heart.  I told her her friend would hear her and her words.  We cried some more.

She told me her friend like her feet rubbed.  She told me she used to take her friend to the beach and how they both loved that.  Now, her friend is immobile and she herself is feeling her age and can't carry her.

I told her when you have a friend like this - you will find each other again.  "But how will I know her?" she sobbed.  "You will - you will recognize one another", I said.  We cried some more.

She shared more and I held her story with honor.  I truly felt blessed that she choose me to share this story with.

She then, began to apologize and say she way OK now.  I assured her her vulnerability was beautiful and encouraged her not to shut it off.  She left my booth lighter.

She returned a forth time.  This time she bought a blessing flag for herself.

My heart was lifted.  Another reminder of why I am here.