Hi Reader

It's been another week of waiting for test results in our house.

Thankfully, Phil is making steady progress following his eye surgery. But just as things began to settle down with him, our 12-year-old Bichon Frise, Joey, became unwell.

He stopped eating, was barely drinking and couldn't keep anything down.

Joey has had some liver problems for the past couple of years, so inevitably our minds began going to the place we didn't want them to go.

Was this the beginning of the end?

We took him to the vet. His blood results weren't good, but we still didn't know what was causing it. An ultrasound was booked. Then more tests. And for several days we lived in that uncomfortable place of simply not knowing.

I think that was actually one of the hardest parts because once we know what we're dealing with, even if the news isn't what we'd hoped for, we can start making decisions. We can ask questions. We can decide what happens next.

Uncertainty gives us nothing quite so solid to hold on to.

Our minds aren't very good at leaving an empty space empty, are they? They like to fill it. What if it's this? What if that happens? What will we do if...?

At one point we genuinely thought we might have to make the decision to let Joey go. I phoned my daughter Hope, whose dog he originally was, because I felt she should know what was happening. There were some tears.

But still, we didn't actually know.

So we tried to bring ourselves back to what we did know.

Joey was here. He was comfortable. He was beginning to drink again. We had another appointment booked. And when we knew more, we'd decide what to do next.

Over the past year or so, Phil and I have been developing something we call The Compass. It's a really simple tool we use when we want to find our direction - whether that's towards a big dream or simply when a life situation knocks us off course a little. We've found ourselves using it in everyday life more and more.

One part of The Compass is Trust. For us, trusting the journey doesn't mean convincing ouselves that everything is definitely going to turn out exactly as we want it to.

Sometimes we simply can't know that.

Perhaps trust can be something much more grounded: I don't know what happens next, but I trust that when the next step becomes clear, I'll be able to take it.

And that's really what we had to do with Joey. As it happens, his story took a rather happier turn.

His ultrasound didn't reveal anything immediately worrying. He spent Thursday at the vets having further tests and, after barely touching food for days, apparently decided that the expensive lunch served at the vets was absolutely delicious and ate the lot.

Of course he did!!

He's now back home, eating and drinking, running around our land here at Casabo, barking at the birds and the goats in the next field and generally behaving much more like Joey again.

He's also refusing point-blank to eat anything containing his medication, however cleverly we disguise it. And after two years of taking arthritis medication for his limp, he's currently decided medication is an optional extra - and yet, he isn't limping anymore. Go figure!

We still don't have every answer, but perhaps that's rather the point.

We don't always need every answer in order to take the next step.

So the gentle thought this week is:

Discover your direction ❤️

Kimberley & Phil​
​The Compass by Casabo​
​Helping you find direction, connection and your next step

PS. If you're curious about The Compass, we've put together a simple explanation of how it works here: [What is the Compass?] You're welcome to start using it yourself whenever you need to find your direction.

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