This is a story about how our animals are powerful mirrors for us and take on our stuff, but it is also a story about trust.
I often write about my dog girls and my other animal companions, Speedy the tortoise and Bun-Bun and Prosperity, the parakeets. I love my animal family but I do think that sometimes they are trying to prematurely gray me. I am sure that is not their intent, but rather they are desperately trying to teach me.
Sarah, my elderly beagle mix, has arthritis and some other aging concerns, but is doing amazingly well for a dog her age. Part of that is because she tends to push herself, just like her human mother, and ignores any physical limitations, insisting she is way younger than she is. She jumps up and down off the bed, which incidentally, her current veterinarian looked in amazement at me when I told her this. And sometimes, just like people, she moves or jumps wrong and the whole dog system goes out of whack. This is what happened the other morning.
When I saw her hunched over and limping, I did what most dog parents do, I panicked. Panicking is usually my first option for dogs in distress situations. I tried to tune in and hear her with animal communication and heard “twist, twist” and felt something is out of whack somewhere. I also clearly heard “arnica” for homeopathy but I didn’t have that in the house. Emma was witnessing all this and I heard her say that Sarah would be fine, reassuring me.
I didn’t trust any of this at the time because, after all, I was panicking. I grabbed for the computer. It would have the answers! In my search through doggy symptoms, I managed to increase my panic to a new level, and had clearly decided Sarah had the first signs of cancer, especially since I remembered and was now reliving when our beloved beagle-basset had passed from bone disease in 1998. Clearly, fear was pushing major buttons of loss, illness, and prior trauma. At this point, possibly to counteract my hysteria, Sarah was calm and relaxed and not limping, but sore. I could relax more, but my mind wasn’t cooperating. At dinner, in her excitement for food, she paced more, probably aggravating the injury or whatever was going on in her body when she began to limp again and this time began circling frantically. She does have a balance issue she lives with, so my fears said that her inner ear issue had gotten much, much worse. It wasn’t the back at all!
Thank goodness at this point, guidance swooped in suggesting to check in with my Facebook friends. I love my Facebook friends and my pals in one online group I belong to, so I posted about Sarah’s condition on the group’s page and on my timeline. A big thanks and a hug to my one student/colleague who came along and gave her immediate impressions. Miraculously, she heard the word “twist” and things pulled out of whack, too. She also kept hearing Arnica would be very good for the situation and she also felt the same areas I felt that hurt on Sarah, the back and right side. Confirmation later came again with a fellow animal communicator friend the next day. We were both clearly hearing Sarah, even down to the same words she or guidance was providing.
What was really interesting about Sarah’s back attack was that two days before I had sat too long at the computer in a disjointed way, so when I moved to get up, I pulled my right hip and lower back out. That really hurt and I was desperately trying to stretch out the imbalance by doing yoga moves on the floor and trying to walk it off. Luckily, I felt much better pretty quickly.
A day or two passed after Sarah’s back injury, and she was back to her normal jumping up and down off the bed, back straightened out. The situation brought out fears and past pains I probably needed to clear out. This time around, unlike in the past, support was immediately there and I am very grateful for that change. Following logic was my best defense and seeking out good support was my other. But most importantly, what really hit home as the big lesson was to trust what I get or hear, not listen to fear. Ironically, as a teacher, I am always reminding my students of this. “Trust your gut, your guidance and your animal,” I tell them. Fear will fog up what you know. I guess the teacher needed the lesson this time.