About a month ago, my friend Sue called me because her dog Butch had suddenly become very ill. He wouldn't eat, he was throwing up constantly and she was really worried about him. To make matters worse, Butch had diabetes and needed daily insulin shots, but if she gave him insulin on an empty stomach, he would have a seizure, so she really needed to find a way to get him to eat, or he could die from not having insulin. She asked me if I would come and give him a Reiki treatment.
Within a couple of days of my first visit with Butch, Sue's veterinarian gave her the worst news a person could receive . . . Butch had cancer that had spread throughout his entire body (the cancer was in so many places, the ultra-sound technician stopped writing down the locations he was finding it in Butch's body) and there were no treatment options. Sue was left with the devastating truth that her sweet boy was going to die and understandably, it felt like the bottom was dropping out of her world.
She wanted to make him as comfortable as possible so we started doing reiki treatments for Butch every other day. Fortunately, the reiki seemed to increase his appetite. It was pretty much guaranteed that he would eat after he got reiki, (and if he ate, then Sue was able to give him insulin), so for that reason alone, we kept up with the frequent reiki treatments.
The thing that was really interesting was that Butch would go into such a deep state of relaxation during a reiki treatment, it was as if he was going into a trance. Sue and I had both watched the video that I posted on my blog, about the wolf who went into a deep trance during energy healing sessions and we were amazed that it seemed Butch was doing the same thing. I could feel from him how much he wanted the energy, how much he wanted to feel better. It was as if he was going into another dimension during the reiki treatments. Something kept telling me I was witnessing something that was beyond my comprehension.
The first couple of weeks were pretty rocky . . . even though Butch was eating more, and was more stable because of the insulin, other strange things were occurring, like the day his back end went out on him while they were out for a walk and some days he had trouble standing up for more than a minute or so. It seemed that every day, there was something different going on, so Sue and I checked in with each other every day to talk about how he was doing. I continued to go over there every other day to give him reiki treatments. We just wanted to give him as much love and support as we could.
After about two weeks, when Sue called to give me an update, she sounded more upbeat. She said "Butch is doing really well. I am interested to see what you think when you come over here tonight." I wasn't sure what to expect but I was completely blown away when I got to her house. Butch greeted me at the door, his tail wagging so much his whole back end wagged and he was sturdier on his feet than he had been in weeks. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was acting like a dog who had never been sick a day in his life.
They invited me to stay for dinner and Butch joined us in the dining room. He ate everything that was offered to him, and when Sue's boyfriend Steve got out some blue cheese for his salad, Butch barked at him to let him know he'd like some blue cheese too. :-) And a little while later, Butch barked as Steve again, as if to say, "I'd like some more please!" (Steve wasn't about to say no, so back to the refrigerator he went) :-) I couldn't explain what we were witnessing, I didn't know what it meant. I just kept telling Sue and Steve to consider it a gift and to enjoy every moment of it.
For the next couple weeks, enjoy it they did! Butch was back to his old self, doing all the things that made them smile, like standing up in the car and sticking his head out the window, barking at passing trucks, eating everything they offered him with gusto, (even regular old dog food), protecting the yard from squirrels, etc. He even resumed one of behaviors that Sue treasured most . . . when she gave him a special treat, he would go out in the backyard and bury it. It was something he had done all his life and the ring of dirt on Butch's nose when he came back in the house always made her smile. Butch hadn't buried anything in a while, but now, he was doing it again and it was bringing her tremendous joy. They went for walks and car rides, they hung out in the backyard and listened to jazz music, they embraced the opportunity they were being given to be together as a happy family.
Last Monday, the miracle we had been witnessing came to an end. Butch was lethargic that morning and he wasn't interested in eating. By Tuesday, his back end was getting weak again. I went that night to give him a reiki treatment and as usual, he went into the deep trance and pulled a ton of energy. Afterwards, he told me that he wasn't sure he was going to be able to pull through but he wanted to try. He said he'd know by the next day if he was going to be able to do it.
When Sue and I talked the next morning, she said he was worse. She stayed home from work because she could feel Butch telling her not to leave the house. I went there that afternoon and she was right, he was getting ready to make his transition. I helped Sue and Butch talk through everything. We explained to him that a vet could come and help him if he needed help and he was ok with that, if need be. I fought back tears as I shared all the things Butch wanted Sue to know . . . that he was sorry that he couldn't fight it anymore . . . how deeply he loved her, etc.
For a while, we just sat there on the floor with him as we talked about what a beautiful gift Butch had been in her life . . . the joy he brought her (she called him her Joy Bug), the way he cared for her and protected her. Several years ago, when Sue had her own battle with cancer, Butch was there by her side to help her through it. She was often bedridden for days after a chemo treatment and Butch would lay there with her, his head resting in the crook of her neck for hours at a time, making sure she knew he was there for her.
The whole time we were talking, Butch kept looking at Sue, with a look of love and adoration that could take your breath away. I could feel how he was savoring the time he had left with the woman he loved most in the world, his mom.
Then all of the sudden, he began to stretch and as he arched his back slightly, I could tell that he was about to go. Sue and I each had a hand on his heart, as she told him how much she loved him. His heartbeat grew faint and then stopped. Just as I was thinking, "Oh god, where is Steve" we heard the door open, and Steve walked into the house. Suddenly, Butch gasped for air and his heart started beating again. We called to Steve and he was able to join us on the floor and say good bye to Butch, before his heart slowed down again and then stopped. I had never witnessed anything like it before . . . clearly Butch couldn't go without seeing Steve one more time.
It was such a deeply moving experience for me. To be there, to witness the depth of his love for his mom and dad, to see how important it was to him that he see his dad one more time, to watch him make his transition . . . it was truly an honor to be there. And at the same time, my heart ached so deeply for Sue and Steve, because I knew what dark days lay ahead for them, as the waves of grief washed over them and they tried to adjust to life without their Joy Bug.
I wish I could explain what happened, during those days where Butch seemed 100% healthy and so full of life. In our conversation before he made his transition, Butch did ask his mom to focus on those fun days, instead of how he was on his last day, so maybe it was part of his plan . . . to make sure his mom and dad had joyful memories to hold on to. For me, I felt like I witnessed a miracle, even if it only lasted a short time, it was still a miracle to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment