Let's end November reminiscing about what I call "The Unconscious Years" - somewhere between 0 and about 29, before I really started embracing all this non-traditional stuff that now pretty much runs my life.

We all grow and change, right? Who we were when we were 16 is hopefully not who we are at 46, or 66, or 86. (And for you 16 year olds reading this, listen up! Change is GOOD.)

Red (the cat), me and my brother Tim, circa 1967-ish

When I was 16 I was, let's see…overweight, concerned about being liked, wanting to be one of the "cool kids" at school, opinionated, stubborn, didn't want to own up to not knowing something, and my pets were part of the scenery. Oh, I had a dog I loved and a cat who slept with me at night (and gave me her fleas - thanks, Red), but I had bigger fish to fry than whether my animals were truly happy. I ran their life. They didn't have much say in the matter.

So to say I was unconscious at 16 is a bit of an understatement. I was more concerned about whether I'd be able to borrow the family car to go to a basketball game with my friends than whether or not my dog wanted to have another litter of puppies.

I did a lot of things during those unconscious years that I'm not real proud of, but my loving, caring pets kept gently prodding me in the direction I needed to go - I was in my 20's when I met Harvey and felt an unbelievable connection, which was then repeated with AC (now I'm 29), who showed me things are totally not what they seem, to Isis (43), who pushed me to the next level, to LiLi (60), who expanded it even further, to all the animals I've met since then who with their subtle ways got me to look waaaay outside any boxes I might have been putting them in. And they are still prodding me. It's never done, people, I'm here to tell ya. Just about the time I think I've got it figured out, one of my animals shows me something new to blow out and expand my mind yet again.

I was totally unconscious of the fact that my animal friends actually have an agenda (or maybe purpose is a better word) for their life. That purpose might be to have fun, but it's THE ANIMAL'S purpose. I always wanted to control their life. No, you're not going out. No, you can't come in the bedroom because my husband (at the time) doesn't like it. No, it's stupid to put the litter box there, so you MUST use it over here. (That one always goes over real big - my advice - listen to what your cat is telling you about litter box placement. It really saves on carpet.)

Morpheus, whose agenda included leaving our family for a not-coming-back walkabout

One of the biggest things I've learned over the years is to listen, and to admit when I am wrong (Me? Naaaaah). Some of my best teachers have had four legs, or wings, or scales. And many of the lessons I've learned from them have translated into dealing with that most difficult of animals, the human.

Where am I going with this? I think the bottom line is that people have a choice. They can change. They can grow. They can expand their perception of what is sentient and what is not, (nothing) and what deserves our respect (everything). They can cling to what they knew in the past, or they can embrace that purple canary who knows how to sing opera. Everybody's journey is different, and that's okay.

The biggest part of becoming conscious is realizing you've been unconscious. It's okay to have been there. It's where you are now that counts. Becoming conscious is a slow process for most humans, because it's hard, and it means we have to look at ourselves. Ugh. But give yourself a break. Everyone makes mistakes, and your animals, believe it or not, will be the first to forgive, forget, and encourage you to move forward.