The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

Category: Dreams, shared experiences, entities
Location: Los Angeles, California
Date: 1950s - 1960s

This was originally published on Tim Binnall's Binnall of America website for my Trickster's Realm column, July, 2007.

The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

When I was a child, I’d intentionally wait for “them.” “They” didn’t come until I was ready; until I had gone through all the little steps. Going through the little steps, the delicious wait, and then the floating through the bedroom door, the hall door, the front door and outside and up into the starry sky, was a happy time.

I had to be in bed, flat on my back. Concentrate on the warm yellow light shining under the bedroom door. Then “they” came, several of them, oh, at least four, and somewhere I was levitated, floating through the doors.

I don’t remember what they looked like, or if I ever knew. I do “know” they were small, about my size. Skinny too, not human, like us.

Sometime around age thirteen or so these episodes became less frequent. As I wrote recently on my blog, it was rare when I could intentionally cause these episodes, and when they happened spontaneously, they became scary. I’d often shut down before I could leave my body.

Another event that happened frequently was the “puppet wolves,” visitations, as I called them. These events were connected somehow with the above, but also different. They weren’t the same creatures, for example. It wasn’t quite as pleasant either. And I remember some events happening during the day; still in bed, but daytime.

The fuzzy puppet wolves were very small, not more than about twenty-four inches tall. They were fuzzy/furry, gray, and reminded me of puppets. They weren’t exactly malevolent, but they were quick to be extremely mischievous, pushy, and just not as “nice” as the others. I could see these guys, and remember to this day what they looked like. The other guys, I don’t remember at all, except that they were small. The puppet wolves would gather around my bed, several of them, and they were insistent. They didn’t take no for an answer, and I’d have to go with them. I don’t remember anything other than that.

Not long ago, my husband “Joe” and I were talking about our childhood “weird” experiences; memories of the paranormal, or whatever word you want to use. Before I said anything, he began to tell me of something that happened to him sometimes when he was a kid. While he was in bed, furry gray “things” would gather around the edges of the bed, and tug at him, taking him away. (Neither of us remember where we went.)

I asked him if they reminded him in a way, of wolves; he said yes. Small nasty little wolf puppet, or stuffed animal-toy beings. He had never heard my story before.

Another synchronicity between us. When faced with all these parallel experiences, going back deep into childhood, I find that I can't ignore things like karma, or metaphysical connections, or reincarnation, or. . . something. I’m not sure what it means, but to say it doesn’t mean anything is supremely incorrect.

The Wolf as Totem
I refer to these nasty little beings as “wolves” yet they didn’t hold the wolf spirit. In fact, the wolf is my totem, and the Wolf Clan is one of the clans of the Lenepe, my grandfather’s tribe. (So I’m told.) I’ve had amazing dreams of wolves; often in connection with white wolves and teachers. I call upon Wolf often and he is my friend and guide.

But at the time, a child unfamiliar with the gift of Wolf and all its meanings, I tended to think of these persistent unpleasant creatures as wolves.

Puppet Symbolism and Invisibility
It’s interesting that I thought of these beings as puppets; that is, puppets without any people operating them. They were just empty moving “skins.” They were footless, too, no legs. A screen memory, a false impression to cover whatever was “really” there? Puppet implies that something else is behind it; that the puppet isn’t doing the thing, the person operating the puppet is in control. Whatever was behind the wolf puppets was not revealed. Or, remembered.

Invisible Aliens
In looking back over a lot of what I’ve written about aliens and odd experiences, I realize I use the term “invisible alien” a lot. I don’t recall what they looked like, these beings that came to float me out doors at night. I don’t remember parts of UFO sightings I've had; missing time. Whether these are connected or not I don’t know.

There are many layers to these kind of experiences, and I suspect symbols replace symbols that replace yet other symbols, all to make us more comfortable, to protect us, -- or us to protect ourselves -- as we try to exist in the mundane world. Our journeys into the astral/other worlds remain submerged in our subconscious. It’s been so for a very long time, as has our need to go down and retrieve these memories. Retrieve the correct memories. With each “dive” into our subconscious, we move closer to some kind of understanding.

(for example, I wrote that I had to concentrate on the yellow light underneath the bedroom door. I told my mother about these experiences, and she insisted that there was never a light on in the hall after we went to bed. I asked her, then, what light was it that I was seeing? she had no idea.)

Was my memory of the light a true one of the hall light, and it is my mother that is incorrect? Or is my mother right, and my memory of the hall light a cover memory for a very different kind of light, from a very different source?

I wonder if I’ll ever know.

Eerie Raccoon Moments

Category: Animals, screen memories, cover memories
Location: Eugene, Oregon
Date: 1980s
Is there anything to this memory of raccoons looking into our house, right at us, during the day?

Green Warty Visitations

(illustration by Brian Froud)

This was originally published on Binnall of America's website on my bi-weekly Trickster's Realm column, 12/26/05.

GREEN WARTY THINGS
Category: Visitation, entities
Location: Eugene, Oregon, Lincoln St.
Date: 1980s


Here’s something that happened to me a few years ago. I was in a friend's home; he was gone, I was visiting my friend who was house sitting. The owner traveled to Mexico frequently on business; he owned a store here in Oregon, and brought back folk art, books, and ceramics to sell in his store.

As I was wandering around the home, looking at his extensive book collection, I noticed a large cape hanging on the wall. It wasn’t made of any type of cloth, but seemed waxy and stiff, with little “horns” or very large thorns, protruding from it. The cape was a lime green color. I touched it, rubbing my fingers on the smooth surface, careful of course to avoid those white yellowish stud things. I appreciated the cape for its history (whatever that may be, since I didn’t have a clue) and was drawn to it for some reason, and yet I felt uncomfortable around it at the same time.

I suddenly felt extremely tired. It was the middle of the afternoon, a beautiful day, but I had to get home -- I was just so suddenly exhausted. As soon as I got home I went straight to bed. I began to leave my body; one of those OBE states that happen to me spontaneously and that I haven’t been able to control since I was a child. I wasn’t asleep, but not awake exactly, yet I was consciousness of the bedroom, the open window, the sun coming through the screen and other mundane things. Yet I was paralyzed and rapidly leaving my body. I heard whistles and flutes; from a distance and then getting closer.

The next thing I knew I was in a deep sleep, and I remember visions of chanting and signing, the flutes and whistles again, the cape draped around someone, a man. I couldn’t see his face. We were somewhere; the desert, or some rural country area. It was night and the stars were numerous and very close to the ground; I could touch them if I just reached out far enough.

When I woke up, it was dark, and I felt as if I’d been poisoned. Not actually physically sick -- if I thought I was ill or going to die, of course I’d call 911, lol -- but I mean, I felt as if someone had given me some kind of sleeping pill or something. It took me a very long time to get back to reality. I felt sluggish and my tongue felt thick.

A couple of days later I found out that this cape from Mexico had belonged to a Shaman and was used in special ceremonies. I hadn’t mentioned this to my friend; it was the other way around. He told me that he was told that the cape was used for magical purposes that involved whistles and dancing, and was performed out in the desert, away from towns and especially the Church.

THE GREEN WARTY MAN

Several years ago I was sitting on the bed, reading. My husband was in the other room. I had what I call a “mind post card,” -- it’s an experience that happens every so often, where the picture, absolutely vivid 3-D, is “inserted” into my mind with a sharp suddenness. It’s as if someone had literally slid a postcard, or a slide, of an image (a moving image) into my head. I don’t know where it comes from, or why it happens. Usually it’s a telepathic thing: a preview of something that occurs later that day, or within a day or two. This time however, it wasn’t a prediction of something; it was a “visit.”

This “mind post card” was of a dirty lime-green being, with warts, or bony stubby nubs, all over his body. He had two little stubs or buttons; not horns or antlers, but the suggestion of such. I just “knew” that this being was male. It wasn’t human, but it wasn’t animal. It was maybe closer to human than not, but definitely not human. He was sitting in profile to me, squatting down actually. We were out in the desert -- or, he was. At this point it doesn’t matter; it was as if I was transported, or his whole world superimposed itself onto mine.

He “saw” me and turned his head to look at me. He slowly grinned at me, but this was no happy smiley expression! He was a nasty piece of work! It was clear he knew exactly how I was feeling, and thought it very funny, in a sadistic way. He was also a little irritated I was there -- or, he was here -- that we were in each other’s worlds.

I was so damn startled that I screamed. With that scream he popped out. And again he seemed irritated, it as if he wanted me to stick around so he could toy with me.

To this day I remember that, and it is very chilling. I don’t associate any UFO experience or connection with this (although, with all the high strangeness that often accompanies UFOs who knows) and I wouldn’t say it was alien. Not alien from another planet; not even alien from this earth. In fact, I had the sense it very much belonged here, of the earth, as much as, if not more than, humans.

NOTE: Standard Weird Experience This Really Happened Disclaimer: “This was no dream, no drug induced or alcohol related experience, and I’m not mentally ill.”

The being in the desert 'slide show presentation' took place years before the Shamanic Cape experience. Both experiences involve the desert, plants, green warty things. A connection to be sure. A connection of what, well, that’s something else!

"Don't Worry, They'll Be Back . . ."

Category:UFO Sighting
Location:Los Angeles, California, Sherbourne Dr.
Date: approximately 1964

My mother liked to sit out on the front porch after the dinner dishes were done, and just have a few minutes to herself. When she did that, we knew not to go out there or bug her. One evening she calls out to us, excitedly, to come out and look at the "flying saucer." I remember everyone just teasing her, "Sure, mom," and they wouldn't even go out, but I did.

My mom was pointing to the sky, to the two story apartment building kitty corner from us. "It was right there! RIGHT there!" she said, and described it. Round, colored lights, hovering, then just disappeared. She was very disappointed, and worried she wouldn't be believed. She insisted it wasn't a plane, getting impatient with the idea she wouldn't know what a plane or helicopter looked like.

I told her: "Don't worry mom, they'll be back." I remember this incident very well, and remember saying that to her. What I don't remember saying, and my mother to this day insists I did say, was "They always come back."