Lucky's Journey

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about my life with Lucky.  The last 13.5 years, have been filled with trial and triumphs.   She has had an amazing journey, overcoming obstacles that some people never thought she would overcome and showing more bravery and persistence than just about anyone I know.  Together, we have helped each other heal and grow and develop into the beings we were meant to be . . . together we've learned that we're both much stronger than we ever thought and we've learned the true meaning of friendship and love and trust.

This was originally going to be a special mid-week blog in honor of Lucky and her journey but it is taking me so long to do it, it looks like it is going to be "the" entry for the week.  Over the last couple of years, I have been working on a book about Lucky's life but have yet to get it finished and published.  I had always hoped I would get the book done while she was still here but since that may not happen, I thought the next best thing would be to share the short version on her story here.  Besides, it is more fun to write about Lucky's life while she is laying at my feet, rather than trying to do it after she has passed away, given that there's a good chance I'll be a sobbing mess for a while.  And since I finally figured out how to load pictures into my blog,  I thought it would be fun to tell her story with pictures.  

I first heard about Lucky in December of 1995.  I was watching the news and saw a story about puppies that had been found in a dumpster in Hunter's Point.  They were all dead except for two that were hanging on by a thread . . . Lucky and another dog named Sandy.  The dumpster was the location where they had been discarded once they were no longer of any use to the owner of the dog ring.  I couldn't sleep that night . . . in part because I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that people would have such little regard for an animal's life and I shuttered to think about what those poor dogs had endured, and also because I had wanted a German Shepherd since I was a little girl and something told me that Lucky was the one I was supposed to have.  

When I called the shelter the next day, they told me that about 100 other people had already called wanting to adopt the dogs. They said that if the dogs survived their injuries, they would hold a lottery to determine who their new adopters would be.  Finally on January 12, 1996, Lucky was deemed well enough to be adopted and they held a lottery for her up at SF SPCA.  I guess there's no suspense here . . . I had the winning ticket and became Lucky's new guardian. They estimated Lucky's age at 6 months. (Sandy ended up being well enough to be adopted about a month later)

We were off to a rocky start, when two days after I adopted her, Lucky became very sick and I discovered she had Parvo.  One very long, scary week later, she was finally able to come back home with me.   In the beginning, I had to hand feed her every couple of hours, because her system was so raw from what she had been through. I think about that now, since I am hand feeding her again, and am reminded how sometimes things do come full circle. 

Once she was healthy enough to start venturing outside, I discovered that while Lucky's physical wounds had healed, her emotional wounds had not.  She was afraid of absolutely everything and her reactions were extreme.   If she saw (or heard) another dog, she would drop to the ground and throw up.  Not surprising really, given that for the first 6 months of her life, she was attacked by Pitbulls until she was presumed dead.  (And I have no disrespect for Pitbulls, I know those poor dogs were only doing what they were being told (commanded?) to do, so please don't think I am bad mouthing Pits, just stating the facts of Lucky's early life).

If she heard other sounds that scared her, she would try to dive

under the closest object she could find (table, chair, car, bench) or she would try to flee and she did that with such force, she could almost pull me off my feet.  Around the house, she hid in my closet, in the bathtub, under the coffee table or anywhere else she could find where she could be "safe" from the things are frightened her so much.  And the list of things she was afraid of was a mile long . . . anything plastic (tarps, wind breakers, dry cleaner bags, etc), anything metal (dog tags, keys, loose change, etc) and then a whole long list of random sights and sounds like the washer, the dryer, the coffee pot, kites, baseball bats, tennis rackets, etc. 

We worked hard in the early years trying to help Lucky overcome all of her fears.  It took a lot of baby steps, a lot of diligence and patience on both our parts but eventually, her fears began to diminish.  She was finally able to see and greet other dogs without getting sick.  One of her first friends was another German Shepherd named Tasha whom we used to meet at the park with her guardian Dave.  I can't tell you what a beautiful sight it was to finally see Lucky be comfortable around another dog.  

Unfortunately, all of Lucky's other fears kept her stomach churning and she threw up 8-10 times a week in the first couple of years.  This meant that her diet often consisted of rice and cottage cheese, which was supposed to be more gentle on her stomach. After countless vet visits to rule out stomach problems and other ailments that could cause all that vomiting, I finally began to realize the connection between mind and body . . . and as Lucky's list of fears dimished, so did the frequency of her upchucking.  At any rate, this was a frequent sight back in those days . . . Lucky walking around with rice stuck to her big beautiful black nose.  

Now, I think that's enough of the sad stuff.  Lucky's first couple of years were definitely difficult and challenging  . . . and often heart wrenching for me, as I had to witness the impact of what her early abuse had done to her emotionally and spiritually . . . but pretty soon, she seemed as normal as a dog who had never suffered the type of abuse she had endured.  Fortunately, she started to learn that life could be fun.  

Here is a picture of Lucky having her first convertible ride with my friend Marie and I.  As long as we stayed on surface streets, Lucky enjoyed the experience immensely.  (On the freeway, there was just way too much wind for those big ears of hers).  She liked the fact that she could look around, see into other cars, watch people walking down the street and smell absolutely everything.

Lucky also found that it was fun to join me and my friends on all of our outdoor activities.  Lucky was a "regular" at festivals, (until a lot of them stopped allowing dogs to attend) but she went to countless art and wine festivals, being the cultured dog that she is, and music events in the park.  Here she is at the Strawberry Festival in Los Gatos enjoying some music.

One of the other things Lucky discovered was how much fun it was to play in flip chart paper . . um, I mean, help her mom after a business trip.  :-)  Back when I was an Organizational Development consultant, I would often come home from a business trip with a stack of flip charts from the session I had facilitated.  I would lay them out on the floor so I could type up a summary for the client and Lucky took great pleasure in running across the room and skidding through them . . . and then roll around in them until she had crinkled every single piece of paper. 

That was her version of "helping" and I have to admit, it made the task more enjoyable because she would make me laugh the whole time I was trying to transcribe the notes.

Here is Lucky at our favorite "watering hole", the Black Watch in Los Gatos.  Lucky is enjoying a bowl of ice water, which the bartenders kindly offer to the 4-legged customers who come in. Over the years, Lucky spent a lot of time at The Watch, of course, not on Friday and Saturday nights when it is insanely busy but we'd go in on a weekend afternoon when it was quiet.  We would hang out and visit with friends or sometimes, my friend Marie and I would bring Lucky in there for a cool beverage after we had all gone running.  Marie and I didn't have to drink from a bowl though, they were kind enough to serve our "cool beverage" in a glass.  

Lucky has also always loved the water.  She had a medical condition that caused her to overheat, so a quick dunk in the pool (much to my neighbor's chagrin) would bring her temperature back down when need be.  Tennis balls were also a big part of playing in the water, whether it was dropping them in the swimming pool or in the toilet bowl at home.  (That one was only funny until the day I rushed into the house, in the verge of wetting my pant and found four tennis balls floating in the toilet).  After that, we instituted the "lid down" rule.

We had an annual tradition of going to the Santa Cruz mountains to cut down our Christmas tree.  Lucky loved wandering around the hillside, checking out all the smells and looking at the trees, although she mostly left the tree selection up to me.  Here she's watching our friend Doug to make sure the trees were being secured properly in the back of the truck because one year they weren't and trees started flying out of his truck on the way home.

Here is Lucky, laying on my bed.  Doesn't she look comfortable?  We had a rule about my bed . . . she wasn't allowed to lay on the pillows.  She almost always obeyed the rule . . . although there were a couple times that I got out of the shower and found she had wedged herself in the middle of ALL the pillows at the top of my bed, so that her body and that beautiful shedding hair was touching every single pillow available.  It's hard to get mad at times like that because she looked so cute!  I decided if she broke the rule to lay in the pillows, she must have had a good reason.   Here, she's showing me that she knows where the "line" is . . . the blue is my comforter, the white are the pillows and she seemed quite certain she was "following the rules."

Here is Lucky at the beach . . . one of her most favorite places in the world . . . so we made it a point to go as often as possible over the years, regardless of whether or not it was "beach weather." She loved to drop her ball in the water and then let the tide take it away.  She would watch it intently for a minute or so, then run after the ball and when she finally got to it . . . pounce on it!  Then she'd drop the ball again and see where the surf took it.  In this shot, she was trying to get a surfer to throw the ball for her but he walked right past her and into the water and I think she stared at the ball and then at him for a good couple of minutes before she realized his world didn't revolve around her.  haha

Lucky always enjoyed helping me in the garden.  One of her favorite games was to watch me closely as I was digging a hole to plant a flower and then when I turned the other way to grab the flower, she'd place a tennis ball in the hole.  Sometimes, after I was all done and back inside the house washing up, she'd pull some of the flowers back up.  One year, she kept pulling one particular zinnia out of the pot and placing it gently on the ground, next to the pot.  Artistic expression?  Anyway, here she is resting against one of the flower pots in the yard.  She had obviously worked hard in the yard that day and needed a nap. 

Did I mention how much Lucky has always loved tennis balls?  Here she is in the hall, having a rest after a lively game of "chase the tennis ball in the house" with her large collection of balls.  I used to sit on the couch and throw the balls down the hall towards the laundry room and she'd chase an entire bucket (which held about 80+ tennis balls).  Then she'd lay down and stare at me, waiting for me to refill the bucket and start the game over again.  One of her greatest loves in life has always been a tennis ball.  She loves to chase them, chew on them and de-fuzz them.  She used to fall asleep with them in her mouth, sometimes put them in her bowl while she was eating and as I mentioned above, she used to love to drop them in the toilet as well.  

One of Lucky's other favorite games when she was young was to roll a ball in between the stove and the refrigerator.  She would then lay on the floor, as she is doing here and bark at me for help. It required me having to get a spatula to slide into that small space to retrieve the ball.  I'd then walk out of the kitchen and within two minutes, she'd be barking again for "help" - because strangely, her ball had ended up in that small space again.  :-)  

One weekend, Lucky and I were visiting some friends up in Arnold for the weekend.  Us two-legged folks had been taking turns laying in the hammock and one night, we had gone inside to put our dinner dishes away when I heard a strange sound coming from the back deck.  We looked out the window and saw Lucky climbing into the hammock.  This is just one example of how Lucky has always acted more like a person than a dog, or at least she always seemed to have the attitude that if I could do it, then she should be able to do it as well.  Fortunately for me, she never tried driving the car, so at least she knew where her limits were. 

As I said before, Lucky seemed to think it was OK to do almost everything that I did, so I shouldn't have been surprised by this sight.   A bunch of my friends had come over to celebrate my birthday and I decided to leave the task of picking up empty beer cans for the morning. Well, after Lucky had breakfast that next morning, she went out into the backyard and a few minutes later, I found her holding this Coors light can between her paws, licking the top of it. I guess she had seen everyone at the party holding these cans and seeming to really enjoy themselves, so she wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  :-)  Since the can was empty, she wasn't able to get the 'full experience' but she did have fun imitating me and my friends.  

While Lucky managed to overcome about 98 of of 100 overwhelming fears, there were a couple items on that list of fears that she was never able to over come.  One of them was her fear of baseball bats.  It made going to the park difficult for us, since we couldn't seem to go to any park without running into kids playing baseball.  I searched and searched and finally found a park in our neighborhood that didn't have a baseball diamond.  It was when we started going to this park that I realized what an amazing connection Lucky had with children.  It wasn't long after we started going to this park that Lucky developed her own following . . . children that came to this park specifically to see Lucky.  We tried to stick to a firm schedule (3pm every day) so that her "friends" wouldn't miss her.  They would throw the ball for her and pet her and ask me all the important questions such as: What was Lucky's favorite food?  Where did Lucky sleep?  Did she have to be in bed by a certain time? Did she ever have a time out?  Did she ever have friends over for play dates?

It wasn't long before the kids started to treat Lucky like she was one of the gang and soon she was being invited to birthday parties.  I began bringing my camera to the park with us, so that I could take pictures of Lucky with the child whose birthday party she was going to go to.  (Parties in the park or in people's backyards were invitations we could accept).  Then we would enlarge and frame the picture for Lucky to give as her gift.  Pretty soon, every child at the park wanted to get their picture taken with Lucky, which thrilled her and I was happy to oblige. 

I'll never forget the time that one little girl, who was about 5 or 6 at the time, told me she was planning to invite Lucky to her birthday party.  I told her that was very sweet of her and then she told me that her party was going to be at the Build-A-Bear store in the mall.  Her mom and I tried to explain to her that Lucky probably wouldn't be able to attend her party, as dogs aren't allowed in the mall, but this little girl was not deterred.  She looked at her mom with the most serious face and said "But Mom, if you call them and explain who Lucky is, I know they'll say it's OK."  Needless to say, Lucky didn't go to that birthday party but she was still happy to know she had been invited. 

Here is Lucky with one of her most special friends.  We were at the park and it was winter time.  The sun was going down but she didn't want to leave Lucky.  Her aunt and I tried explaining that Lucky was going to get cold if she didn't go home so she went to the car to get a blanket for them.  She snuggled them both under the blanket and told us that now Lucky could stay longer.  They looked like they were at a slumber party and it was such a precious sight that her aunt and I decided to hang out in the cold and let them spend some more time together. 

Lucky is doing water therapy now.  Since she had hip and spine issues, the water is a wonderful way for Lucky to keep mobile.  Swimming helps keep her muscles strong and gives her a cardio workout as well.  I don't know what we'd do without water therapy.  I doubt Lucky would have done as well as she has this past year if she wasn't getting her water therapy every week.  Unlike most of the other dogs at water therapy who have "fun" in the water, chasing toys, etc, Lucky takes it very seriously.  She's in there to "do a job" (get her muscles feeling better) and she stays focused on the task at hand.  It's a very prominent trait of Lucky's, to be very determined.  She seems to think that if she is going to do something, she is going to give it everything she's got.  And that she does. 

Last January, I needed to have a picture of Lucky and I to submit for an article I wrote for Bay Woof.  A friend of mine offered to take some pictures of us and Lucky and I did our best to pose for some "magazine quality" photos.  It wasn't until we were done with the official picture taking part and started goofing around, that we got some of my favorite pictures.  I love this picture because it captures the essence of our relationship.

Besides Lucky, one of my other favorite things in this world is a band called the subdudes. I listen to them frequently and while I have 50-60 "favorite songs", there is one in particular that grabs my attention every time it comes on.  It's a song called "Don't Doubt It" and there is a line in the song that says "A family sits down to dinner and with folded hands they say, 'Give me another day, show me how to heal and learn how to feel.'"

I think about that song every night when I get into bed and each morning when I peer over the side of my bed and see Lucky sleeping peacefully on the floor next to me, I feel blessed . . . to have another day with my sweet girl . . . my best friend.  She has taught me more in 13.5 years that I ever thought possible, about life and myself and how I want to be in this world.  She has helped me heal in ways that I didn't even realize I needed to heal, and has touched my life in ways that would be impossible to recount.  

I think back to my intense belief as a child that I was supposed to have a German Shepherd and I wonder if Lucky and I didn't make some pact before we left the spirit world that we'd come together on earth so, with her help, I could learn and grow and heal.  I don't know how else to explain the "knowing" that I had as a little girl.  All I do know is, I am the luckiest person in the world to have been graced by her presence all these years.  I hope that I learned everything she came here to teach me.  This has, by far, been the most profound relationship I have ever had.  I know I am a better version of myself than I was before she came into my life and for that, I will be forever grateful to my precious girl.  I know I will do my best to honor her after she's gone by always striving to be the person she believes I am. 

It's all a matter of perspective

I have been thinking a lot about perspective lately, as Lucky and I have been faced with things we need to keep adjusting to.  Through these experiences, I am reminded of what a difference our perspective on something can make in our lives.  

I have always believed that words are very powerful and how we choose to label something can change how we feel about it (or ourselves).  I also always believed that how we choose to look at something can alter our experience from negative to positive.  Lately, I have seen many examples of this and it has served as a nice reminder of just how powerful our perspective on something can be.  

I have a friend who kept referring to herself as "selfish" when she was talking about choices she was making (i.e. saying no to an invitation because she wanted to have a night at home).  She kept saying "Maybe I'm just being selfish but . . . ".  I asked her if I could offer her a substitute word.  She laughed and said "Of course" because we've known each other a long time and she knows how I am.  :-)  I told her that from what I was hearing, it sounded more like she was being "protective of her time" rather than selfish and that I thought it might change how she felt about her choices if she viewed them as being protective of her time, rather than labeling herself as selfish.   She said she felt a shift immediately when she thought about my new word choice and said she'd try to stop labeling herself as selfish. 

Then there is a client of mine who obviously had been told by people that she babbled.  She would be trying to tell me something that she hadn't completely figured out yet and periodically, she would stop and apologize.  She would say, "I'm sorry, I'm babbling."  and then attempt to change the subject.  I finally said to her one night "It sounds to me like you are trying to process  your thoughts, it doesn't sound like babbling to me."  I asked her if she'd consider referring to her behavior as "processing" when she was trying to verbally sort something out.  I hated the idea that she would use a negative term like that about herself, especially when I saw how it affected her when she used the term.  She said she'd give it a try and in the beginning, she'd say "I'm sorry, I'm bab . . . processing."  

Over time, she got better about calling what she was doing "processing" and I encouraged her to stop apologizing because if it helped her to talk through things verbally, then didn't think she owed anyone an apology.  The shift in her energy is so evident to me when she uses the term "processing" (without the apology) - it feels to me like she is being kinder to herself, which is something I think we all need to do . . . be kinder to ourselves.

Then there was a sweet woman I know from water therapy whose dog whines a lot.  She frequently referred to her dog as "Poor Pitiful Pearl" (in a loving way of course) but one day I suggested to her that maybe her dog wasn't whining . . . that maybe she was singing.  She thought that was cute and said she'd try looking at it that way.  A couple weeks later I asked her if her dog was still "singing to her" and with a laugh she said "Yes, she sings all the time, but you know what? I am finding that I am enjoying it more"  We talked about the fact that even though it was the same behavior, somehow, labeling it as "singing" instead of "whining" made it more fun.  She even confessed that sometimes she would "sing" back.  

In the last 4-5 days, Lucky has been less interested in eating, which of course makes me concerned. She has always had a healthy appetite and I think I have always believed that if she was still interested in eating, she wasn't ready to leave.  I have found that if I hand feed her, she'll eat.  At first, I was thinking about it as a negative . . . Lucky won't eat unless I pick the food out of her bowl and hand it to her . . . and I realized that I was doing it with a lot of sadness.  The other day, I decided I would change my perspective about it.  I decided I would look at it as a loving gesture, an opportunity for us to connect and share an activity together.  Instead of being filled with worry, I was filled with love.  I actually look forward to feeding her breakfast and dinner now and plan accordingly, so we have enough time for me to sit on the floor with her, without any other distractions.  

Another example is the fact that when I lift Lucky out of the car, the pressure my arm puts on her bladder as I am lifting her out makes her tinkle . . . and that usually involves my legs and feet getting tinkled on.  Again, at first, it was stressing me out.  I had to wash down the floor of the garage, I had to clean my shoes, my legs (or change my pants) and it made me worry about her health.  I knew I had a choice about how I looked at it . . . and my first choice was to just wear shorts and flip-flops every day.  This is not a hardship for me at all, as I would wear short and flip-flops all year round if I could get away with it.  But now I call it my new "uniform" and it makes me happier to put on short and flip-flops every day.  And when the tinkling happens, I simply walk over to the garden hose and wash my legs and flip-flops.  Then I grab a water pitcher from the kitchen, fill it with water and toss it over the puddle on the garage floor.  The whole "clean up" activity takes only a matter of minutes and I have a surprisingly good attitude about it.  It's our "reality" right now and one that I am choosing to not get down about.  We've found a way to deal with it, without any additional stress.  In fact, the other day, I lifted her out of the car and she didn't tinkle on me.  I was almost disappointed, since I have gotten so used to it.  :-) 

We always have choices about how we look at something, or how we label it, just as we have a right to be happy and to feel good about ourselves.  I think sometimes we don't realize how much "choice" we really have . . . and how powerful those choices can be.  When we see things in the positive, our experience can be more positive.  Am I still scared that Lucky's time here with me is going to end soon?  If course I am.  But at least I am finding ways to see our final chapter in a way that makes us both happier.  

Who decides when "it's time"?

In the last couple of weeks, Lucky's back legs have not been working much at all.  It's been an adjustment for us but not one that has been terribly difficult.  I was already helping her walk with the sling so the only difference is that my arms are getting a way better work out than they were before, when Lucky was "sharing the load" so to speak.  Since I am doing all the work for her back end, it's requiring more arm strength for me and a little more coordination for the both of us, but we're making it work.  

I have been the recipient of comments during these last few weeks, some subtle, and some not so subtle, where people suggest maybe it's time to put her down.  My flippant and somewhat humorous response is: "If your mom couldn't walk, would you put her down?" but it has made me think a lot about this part of an animals journey and how we make the choice of when 'it's time."

I have always believed that the choice was up to the animal and our only job was to listen to them, to pay attention to what they were showing us.  Aside from the fact that Lucky needs my help to walk, she's perfectly normal in every other way.   She's still eating with gusto, she's still playing with toys, she's still waking me up in the morning by "singing" and she's still alert and happy.  Nothing in her behavior or demeanor is telling me that she is ready to go.  

But people still question my choice.  I have been pondering this issue for a while now, not only because of my own situation but also because I have friends and clients who are also dealing with pets who are aging and losing certain abilities.  I have realized that often when people decide to put their animal down, it's because THEY can't do it anymore.  I am not saying that is wrong, because we all have to decide what is right for us.  

I guess I look at aging more as part of the process of life. I am not afraid of it.  I have seen Lucky change in the last few years.  I have seen her unable to do things she used to be able to do and I learned a while back from a sweet Pug named Max that we have to just keep re-defining "normal."   What was normal before (chasing the tennis ball and running on the beach) has now been replaced with a new definition of normal and I know that definition will keep changing.  

These days, laying on the floor in the family room together while I read a book and hold her paw with my free hand is our new 'normal.'  It's not the same as running on the beach but it is just as sweet.  And now when we go to the park, instead of the kids throwing the ball for Lucky, they just sit around her and pet her and talk to her.  It's not the same as before, but it is no less touching to see Lucky light up in the presence of children.  

Several of my clients are dealing with these issues as well.  Potty accidents are becoming more frequent, as they have from time to time with Lucky.  Do you decide to put your animal down because they have a few accidents? or do you just keep a supply of towels handy?  I realize it's a personal choice.  If you can't handle the accidents, then maybe you make once choice.  If you decide that getting some pads to put down under them is an OK solution or having that extra supply of towels around, then you make another choice.  

I think about myself and how I would want to be treated when I get older and begin to lose my faculties.  I wouldn't want to be put down because I occasionally lost bladder control.  I would want to be treated with kindness and respect, regardless of what I could or couldn't do anymore.  And I have realized that that is what I am trying to do with Lucky.  I am trying to treat her with kindness and respect.  I am trying to honor her in this part of her life as much as I honored her in the previous 13 years.  I am trying to enjoy the time we have together and make it as fun for both of us as possible.  I am trying to not make a big deal about the changes we are going through, trying to help her see that we're still OK, we're still a team and letting her know I don't mind helping her with things she didn't used to need my help with. 

Most importantly, I am paying attention to her and I am listening.  When she's ready to go, I know she'll tell me, she'll show me.  I know I need to not let other people's opinions make me second guess myself or Lucky.  We've been together for thirteen and a half years and if anyone knows Lucky, it's me.  Just as my clients and friends know their animals better than anyone else.  We all have to make the decisions based on what is right for us and hopefully, what is right for our animals as well.  But if you try to tell me that I should put Lucky down because her back legs aren't working, I will tell you that Lucky isn't as concerned about it as you are.  :-) 

It is difficult in some moments?  Absolutely yes.  Last weekend when she woke me up in the middle of the night to let me know she needed to throw up, I tried to get her out of my bedroom and into the backyard.  My back, which has been a little taxed from all the extra physical requirements decided it wasn't going to cooperate with us and it gave out on me.  Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I knew I would never be able to get both of us up and out to the backyard in time, so I grabbed one of the towels I have on hand and put it in front of her.  She threw up on the towel.  It wasn't the end of the world.  Of course, in a moment of weakness and overload, it didn't stop me from crying and telling her I was sorry I couldn't get her out in the yard but she understood.  I put the towel in the laundry room to deal with in the morning and once I got her back on her bed, we both went back to sleep.  

On the plus side, I have better arms muscles than I have ever had before and I don't even need to go to the gym.  I look at this time as just a part of our journey - the part where I get to give to her - to let her know how much I truly appreciate all she has done for me over the years.  I look at it as an honor.  We're partners in this world, at this time.  I would do anything for her, just as I know she would do anything for me.  I will continue to try to be the person she believes I am . . . strong, capable, resilient, loving and kind.  And when she tells me it is time for her to go, at least I will know that I honored her to her last day.

Animals listening and communicating

I have had the honor this week of witnessing the variety of ways our animals try to communicate with us as well as their ability to hear what we say and respond.  Sometimes, our animals communicate so subtly that we can miss the message if we aren't paying close enough attention. Sometimes, we misinterpret the message they are trying to send us by seeing things through our own eyes and our own fears.  And sometimes, we don't trust that they can hear the things we say and respond.  In the hopes of helping you better "hear" your animals, I am going to share a few of the things I witnessed this week.

There was one animal who wouldn't eat.  Her guardian was really concerned about her, fearing the worst, that she had a major health issue.  I wasn't sensing any major health issue with her cat so I began asking the guardian some questions.  I asked her how long the lack of eating had been going on and what had changed around their house at that time.  At first she couldn't think of anything but as we continued to talk about it, the puzzle pieces began falling into place . . . her cat had stopped eating the same week she had switched to a new cat food.  

I suggested to her that her cat was letting her know that she did NOT like the new food she purchased and asked if she could get a can of the food she used to eat and give it a try.  She called me about an hour after I had left her house to report that she had picked up a can of the food she used to buy and her cat had devoured almost the entire bowl in one sitting.  I am sure animals often wish they could speak, so they could say things like "Yuck, I don't like this food, can I have something else?"  Instead, they are forced to wait for us to correctly interpret what they are showing us.

Then there was an older dog that I saw this week who was recently diagnosed with cancer.  Her parents were troubled by the fact that she walked around the house all the time, making a loop through the kitchen, then through the family room and then back through the kitchen again. They were concerned that this constant walking around was a sign she was in pain.  

When I asked her about it, she gave me a picture of her laying in her bed sleeping and her parents standing over her, trying to tell if she was still breathing.  I asked her parents if they often checked on her when she was sleeping.  They both looked at each other with a knowing smile and then confessed that they frequently stand over her in a panic, worried that she has passed away and they confessed they did it multiple times a day.  

I explained to them that their sweet girl was trying to let them know she was still alive and well by making the loop around and around the house.   She thought that if they saw her walking around and around, they wouldn't worry about her so much. Unfortunately, that wasn't the way they interpreted it, but fortunately, they now know that's what she is trying to show them.  We also asked her parents if they would give her more "space" when she is sleeping and they promised to do their best.  This is another case where I am sure the dog wished she could talk because she would have probably said "Hey, I love you and all but can you two let me sleep?"

And finally, there was a guardian who was really concerned that her cat no longer meowed.  Her cat is older and is having a lot of health issues.  She was worried the lack of meowing was a sign that her cat was unhappy or very sick.  We talked about it while I was giving Reiki to her cat, so that her cat could hear our conversation.  

The guardian confessed that the constant meowing used to get on her nerves a bit and she had told her cat more than once that she wished she didn't "talk" so much.   She said that now she really missed the sound of her cat's voice.  I checked in with her cat and asked her if she had heard everything her mom had said, and asked if she would be willing to start "talking" again because her mom really missed it.  I also told her that her mom promised she would never complain again about her "talking."

About ten minutes later, the Reiki treatment was done and the cat went down the hall to get a drink of water and use the litter box.  About a minute after she had walked down the hall, we heard her meowing.  Her mom's eyes got really big and she excitedly went down the hall to hear the meowing from a closer distance.  She was in shock that her cat had understood what we had asked of her and that she had honored the request so immediately.  From the smile on her face, I could see just how much she had missed hearing her cat talk.

The next day, I got an email from her asking a question about something we had discussed and at the end of the email she wrote "BTW, she's still talking . . . I don't think she has stopped since you left last night."   I teased her when I wrote back and reminded her that she had better honor her promise to never complain about it.  :-)  

So, I hope you'll take a moment today to stop and observe your animal.  Is there anything you think they are trying to tell you?  Any message that you may have missed? or misinterpreted? and if there is something you want from you animal, don't be shy about asking them.  If they can do what you've asked (and want to), they're always willing to oblige.