The Master was searching for a vessel to use; on the shelf there were many -  which one would He choose? “Take me”, cried the gold one, “I’m shiny and bright, I’m of great value and I do things just right. My beauty and luster will outshine the rest and for someone like you, Master, gold would be the best.”

The Master passed on with no word at all. he looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall, “I’ll serve you, dear Master, I’ll pour out your drink and I’ll be at your table whenever you dine. My lines are so graceful, my carvings so true, And my silver will always compliment you.”

Unheeding the Master passed on to the brass. It was wide mouthed and shallow, and  polished like glass. “Here! Here!” cried the vessel, “I know I will do, place me on your table for all men to view.”

“Look at me”, called the goblet of crystal so clear, “my transparency shows my contents so dear, though fragile am I, I will serve you with pride, And I’m sure I’ll be happy in  your house to abide.”

The Master came next to a vessel of wood, polished and carved, it solidly stood. “You may use me, dear Master”, the wooden bowl said, “but I’d rather like if you used me for fruit and not for bread!”

Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay. Empty and broken it helplessly lay. No hope  had the vessel that the Master might choose,  to cleanse and make whole, to fill and to use.

“Ah! This is the vessel I’ve been hoping  to find, I will mend and use it and make it all mine.” “I need not the vessel with pride of its self; Nor the one who is  narrow to sit on the shelf; Nor the one who is big mouthed and shallow and loud; nor one who displays his contents so proud; not the one who thinks he can do all things just right; but this plain earthy vessel filled with my power and might.”

Then gently he lifted the vessel of clay, mended and cleansed it and filled it that day and spoke to it kindly. “There’s work you must do, just pour out to others as I pour into you!”

One day I found a squirrel lying on the ground. At first I thought it was dead. But then I noticed it was hurt. I checked to see if there was a bleeding wound. There was none. So I wondered what could have happened to this cute little creature. I tentatively picked it up, as gently as I could, since I did not know the nature of the injury. I held the squirrel in my palm and started talking to her. I asked, “Why baby? What happened?” And suddenly, as if responding to my question, the squirrel squeaked. Though I did not understand what the squeak meant, I felt the squirrel receive my love. I noticed some birds above hovering to probably prey on her. I did not want to leave her on her own when she was so weak.

I did not feel like putting her down, so I started sending healing energies to the squirrel. I prayed for her recovery if it was meant to be. And if she had to pass on, then I prayed that it happen smoothly. It was nearly 10 mins that I was holding the squirrel, giving her healing energies. And whenever I spoke to her, she would respond with a squeak. It was very touching to see the animal respond to love. I felt love overflowing from my heart to this little creature.

After a while she closed her eyes. It seemed as if she had passed on. I checked for the heartbeat by gently placing my thumb against her entire chest. There was no flutter. I spoke to her, called out to her. She didn't respond anymore. I put her in a corner and I knew the birds above would feast on her. I knew it was nature’s way of eliminating dead organic matter. I was glad I didn't leave her there earlier as I knew the birds would have preyed on her even as she was alive. I was glad I could give her love in her last moments and help her have a painless death.

I felt peaceful. I decided to write about this. I repented not having taken a picture of her. At that moment, I was too engrossed with the entire experience of connecting to nature and receiving a response from her. I took my bus home and on the way thought about it. I felt good. I believed that was unconditional love. I always knew I was an animal lover.

Just before this expansive feeling could inflate my ego, a question popped in my mind. “Would I have picked up the animal if it was a dying rat?” Even the thought of it sent a shudder through my spine. I knew I would have walked away. I felt ashamed to admit that to myself. But that was the truth. I saw the squirrel as a cute little creature that eats nuts and fruits. So I could easily get myself to pick her up and hold her with love. A rat would have been out of question. Then I asked myself, “Can I then really call myself an animal lover? Did I really express unconditional love?”

Perhaps I could call  myself a “pet-lover”. But to say I am an animal lover is a blatant lie.

(This article is written by Dr. Sushmita Gowri and originally posted on her blog)