|
My
friend Mary is in love with someone else's dog.
She's a tall, blonde
gorgeous activist, has men by the dozens tripping
after her, which is all fine to her. Mary was married
some years ago-that's how I met her: She had come
to me for help through her divorce and we worked
on dreams. We became fast friends. I've seen Mary
through only one troubled relationship, yet she
says she misses "being in love."
Summer
of 2003, she was house- and pet-sitting for her
friend, owner of Amigo. He's a furry Chihuahua.
That means a six-inch high dog, weighing only 7
pounds, sporting long fur and a dinky face. He's
quite bouncy and confident, a personality which
attracts children, men, animals, women, whatever
you got. My friend Mary was smitten! Alas, the dog
belonged to someone else.
Her
friend the owner of said warm furry friend had been
speaking of moving to the East Coast, and of possibly
gifting the dog to Mary, but those plans fell through.
Mary has "borrowing privileges" sometimes,
but not late last night, when the owner phoned to
inform her that Amigo had been missing since early
evening.
I
received her email
early this morning, and read the following as I
drank my coffee, realizing it had been written on
the midnight before:
"I am at work hoping to hear Amigo's scratch
on my sliding door, but he's been missing for five
hours, no call to the number on his collar, and
I have circled the neighborhood around our office
several times, gone hoarse calling his name. I wasn't
this miserable when my father died or my marriage
ended.. so this is love...talk to you soon, will
let you know if my furry beloved surfaces.
--
Mary"
My
heart sank. The aggravation was made worse by the
unhelpful owner who also happened to have lost her
cellular phone--the one identifying Amigo's owner.
When I read the email, I understood the question
to be, "Where is Amigo?" (Chart
details, above) and
knew I had to jump in as the astrologer in the mix.
Virgo 26 was rising.
Because
there are only 30 degrees to a sign, the last three
degrees are regarded as "late." The numbering
begins with "zero" on any sign, ending
at 29, thus the 26th degree is one of the "late"
ones. Thus the degree at 26 indicates the "lateness"
of the question, and certainly the dog had been
missing for 12 hours by the time I saw her email.
The
Moon was at degrees 04:59 of Cancer, in exact aspect
to both Jupiter (sextile) at the same degree and
minute in Virgo, and Venus (square) in Libra (strong
in her own sign). Venus would signify the situation
immediately before the question was posed as her
minutes are earlier by a fraction. I took this to
mean that a protector (Venus) who could not keep
the dog (squared the Moon) palmed off the dog to
a Jupiterian, i.e. a cop., ruled by Mercury, also.
This could suggest that the officer would do his
duty in the dog's favor, as he was "ruled"
by the dog.
The
Mercury (ruling the ascendant) would be a very good
indicator of the smallness of this dog, his most
loveable feature. Mercury was still retrograde,
and in his own sign, in the 12th: retrograde can
mean "returning"; in his own sign meant
he was not in a threatened place, and in the 12th
he was isolated. (The missing cell phone assured
that!) Yet, both the Sun and Moon are above the
horizon, good indication of the return of the "lost
object."
|
Because
the Moon was in the 10th house, and the Sun in
Virgo was on the Ascendant as it was dawn, I also
noticed that the midheaven of the chart, also
ruled by Mercury, was square to the Sun. I felt
this was an indication that the solution would
come when the Sun reached the next angle (the
10th, thus noon-time) since these angular houses
tend to bring off an answer quite quickly.
The
Moon (querent) would move forward to a favorable
aspect (sextile) to the Mercury ruler of the chart,
(Amigo).
I
called her at 7:05 and said, "Oh, Mary! Where
can our little dog be?" She was beside herself,
not having slept but maybe an hour or two. "Mary
this dog is coming back to you, and soon,"
I said. "Do not fear."
It
was all I could hope for, and it did give Mary
some courage. Meanwhile, Amigo's owner could see
that Mary was rightfully distraught. They talked
a little about what would happen if Mary took
the dog. The owner was so regretting that once
again she had failed to keep a close, careful
eye on the prize of a dog. By 11:45 Mary could
no longer control her tears. She was unable to
remain professional and had to leave her office
for a break. The dog's owner was trying to comfort
her, but to little avail.
At
12:10PM the phone rang at the astrologer's house.
It was Mary. "I'm a believer," she chirped.
The dog had been found and brought last night
to the Police (Jupiter). They in turn had called
the ASPCA(Venus=shelter), who had already heard
from Mary at the break of whenever they opened
in the morning. When she called she was on the
way to the pound, where the officers had to take
the little one. The ASPCA had phoned Mary exactly
at noon.
"The
owner has conceded Amigo to me," Mary reported.
The lovers were reunited. (All's well that ends
well.)
|
Horary chart details,