One of the many spiritually focused podcasts I listen to is Next Level Soul. He has so many great guests that it’s always a good episode and I recommend it often. He recently had on a medium who focuses on pets. Now I’m one of those folks who far more deeply bonds with animals than I do with humans. Like intensely different. Still love the humans in my life, but there’s a … distance(?) to my love for my family and friends that is absent with my animals.
I had a dog growing up that I got when I was 9. She was my first dog and I was supposed to be responsible for her. Of course, I was 9 when she came into my life and I was about as responsible as the average 9 year old. She didn’t get much in the way of formal training, just the basics and even that was spotty. There’s a lot that, as an adult, I wish I’d done differently with her. Trained her more, taken her with me more places, done more with her, etc. When she had stomach cancer and had to be put down at age of 12, things could not have gone more badly. I won’t go into the details but suffice to say I was utterly traumatized and I asked her spirit to not only forgive me, but to give me another chance. That if I had it to do over again, I would do better. And most especially, I would never allow what happened at her death to ever happen again.
Something I literally just thought of as I was typing this. We as a family were deciding on a name for the new puppy. I wanted to name her DeeDee, but was nixed and she became Scruffy. Many years later, I got my first horse. Her name? Dee. And no, I didn’t name her – that was her name when I got her.
Anyway. I had put down Scruffy on Valentine’s Day 1992. I made my request of spirit to give me another chance at this time as well.
It was in the late summer of 1992, I was playing a table top with friends and decided my character needed a war dog. I named it Kresha. I kept having visions of a black dog with typical liver markings like a Doberman would have. As I was contemplating what I wanted for my next dog, I kept waffling between a German Shepherd and a Border Collie. Now comes later mid October of 1992.
I’m getting ready for my day, and as I often do I speak aloud my plans for the day. I’ll do this, then go there, do that, etc. Out of my mouth comes “and go to the pound to get my dog.” *record scratch* What? No, my parents were out of town and I was told expressly not to get a dog while they were gone. Besides, I wanted mom to go with me to make sure I got the right dog for me. Going to the pound, by myself, while the parents were gone? Not gonna happen.
I was even riding with a friend as I went about my errands for the day. The random phrase of ‘go to the pound’ forgotten. While out, I started directing my friend and we ended up on front of the pound. Holy hell! Fine. I was there, I’d look. I wouldn’t go inside though! I went down the outside runs, looking at the dogs. Not sure what I was looking for. I made it all the way to the end and felt relieved because I didn’t see “my dog.” I turned around to go back and made it halfway … and there she was. My dog. Sitting there in the run looking at me, a black and tan like a doberman, but with long hair. I knew, instantly, felt it all up and down my being … this was my dog.
I immediately went inside and found her run. The name on her intake card? Keisha. Her breed? A German Shepherd/Border Collie mix. Her age? 8 months. She was born in late February, of 1992. Only a few weeks after I had to put my Scruffy down.
I knew to the core of me that Scruffy’s soul had chosen to give me the chance at redemption that I had asked for. Whether this was Scruffy’s soul or a different one that Scruffy “recruited” to help me, I have no idea. I like to imagine the former.
I adopted her on the spot, and she came home with me. She went into her first heat the next day. Having tried to volunteer at that shelter in the past, I knew that a female in heat was immediately put down. Going to the pound that day was literally the only chance I had to get her. Had I waited a few more days for my mom to get back so we could go, it would have been too late. I very much thank my soul not only for the direction but the persistence in overriding my ego-self’s intentions to ensure that this soul connection was made.
It certainly was not easy sailing! She was a difficult dog at the beginning, and I was still very inexperienced and young. I almost gave up. Then I decided if I needed help, I should have the courage to get that help. We enrolled in formal training and I learned that first day exactly how strong I could be. I mean, how strong my energy can be. That was the turning point for us. After that, she understood and I learned. She started out with me as a nervous, excitable creature with insecurities for miles including severe aggression toward smaller dogs. It took a few years, but she became a solid, stable, confident, secure, trustworthy companion who couldn’t care less about smaller dogs. We went everywhere together – mountain biking across multiple states, camping, hiking, even ocean kayaking. Off lead. She was soooo smart! A true joy to share my life with.
Many years later, when I got married then divorced, I was working 3 jobs trying to make ends meet and I just didn’t have the energy for much anymore. I had a dream, a warning that there were 2 possible endings she could choose. If I did not choose to spend more time with her, she would take the earlier option. It was up to me. Well, I moved everything around to address that, even coming home at 11 pm and taking her for a long multi-mile walk through the neighborhood, weekend trips to parks, etc. One evening she got out of the yard while I was at work and came home to find her limping around the driveway. She had a broken left upper canine tooth and a giant swelling on the left front part of her body. I immediately took her to the vet. I learned later what we had suspected is indeed what happened – she had been hit by a car. But a glancing blow. There was exit point one. Clearly, I had done enough so that she chose exit point two.
Two years later, while I was away at a cat show, I left her with my then boyfriend. I came home to a story of her not being interested in eating. That was unheard of for this dog! I ran her to the vet and my concerns were dismissed. I learned from that – never let someone dismiss me, esp if my concerns are accompanied by a soul prompting. I haven’t either, which can piss off a vet who wants to dismiss me only to discover “oh shit!”. But at the time, I swallowed things and let the “professionals” corral me. I took her home. Two days later, she’s vomiting almost continuously and unable to walk. Obviously, I take her back. They clearly take me seriously this time and discover she was in full renal failure. Antifreeze poisoning. There’s a short window of treatment, and this was well past it. When I pin them with a snarling stare and demand “Had you taken me seriously when I first came in, could she have been saved?” *blanching* No, given the timeline of events, she got into the antifreeze sometime on Saturday and I came home on Sunday. The window was already closed by then. I could only nod, but I think I made my point.
There was literally only one real option. First up, I made sure they didn’t use that paralyzing drug as their euthanasia medicine. What a torturous one that is! Paralyze the body so you can’t breathe, and then suffocate to death will being fully cognizant. What a nightmare! Fortunately, they used a different thing. I also demanded to be present and was fully ready to get belligerent about it. No need though, this was a different vet.
I stayed with her, thanking her for giving me another chance and that I hoped I was able to give her a good life like she deserved. How much I loved her, and would miss her, but knew she would be ok. She went out as peacefully as was possible.
I kept my promise to her to the best of my ability. She was indoor dog, spending her entire life with me as a true companion. She understood the rules of acceptable behavior and I had many people compliment me on such a well adjusted and easy to work with dog – I semi-joked that she was better behaved than most children. She accompanied me everywhere, across many states, saw me through many boyfriends and even through my first marriage. She was protector, my companion, my friend … my rock. My redemption.
I still cry when I think of her. I never found out how the hell she got into antifreeze.
What I know most of all is that the pets who come into our lives can be great teachers, if we let them be. They can teach us patience, maturity, perseverance, and our limits. They can teach us how to be strong, how to soft, how set boundaries and maintain them, how to be kind, and when we should trust ourselves over trusting others. Everything about that dog, especially how she came into my life, was a marvel of soul orchestration. I think “all time is now”, which means plans can change “now” and play out “now” when years … decades … separate the events. That our lives are “pre-planned”… I think the themes are set and big relationship potentials are set, like the most complex dance ever with more moving pieces and independent decisions which have to be made. But each decision made is a “now” moment that can be accessed at all levels of “now”, so the orchestra can adjust and the dancers are unaware that their steps have had any impact at all.
I keep waiting for another soul prompting that THIS is my dog. Somewhere. Somehow. No such luck yet. I have a cat, whom I adore. We are dealing with a thyroid issue, and I got into the vet lickity split when I noticed a change in behavior. We are working to get the med level right at the moment, and the first round was just too strong. I insisted this with the vet and they kept saying “oh he’s having issues with the method” and I’m saying “no, it’s just too high a dose.” Well I can control how much I’m giving him, so their insistence on their interpretation I can ignore. They ran blood work and I spoke with a different vet the next day, and the tests confirmed exactly what I was saying – too high a dose. The vet said “You obviously really know your cat.” “Yes, yes I do.” Keisha taught me – pay attention, hear the messages my intuition is giving me, and act on them to the best of my ability without allowing them to be compromised. What she helped teach me were life lessons that made me a better person, and are still playing out today.
So I say again to the spirit of this special dog – thank you for giving me another chance, thank you for your patience and your love and your company, thank you for spending your life with me, and thank you for the positive changes that knowing you helped foster in me.
Path of the Individual 