Schnauffen Peagle, schnauzer-auffenpinscher-poodle-beagle mix dog, dog, black and tan shaggy dog

Miracle Dog

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Happy little Tribble

Earlier this month, we had a family emergency.  I could tell on Friday that my two-year-old dog, Tribble, didn’t feel well. She vomited a little, which wasn’t unusual; our dogs had each vomited once or twice in the past week, but it they were fine the next day. We didn’t worry, but I thought I’d keep an eye on her. I got up early Saturday morning and realized that she was very, very ill. We rushed her to the emergency room, where things went from bad to worse. [I have to say that I love living in the big city, where a veterinary hospital with emergency room is available. We took her to Alameda East Veterinary Hospital, of Emergency Vets fame on Animal Planet. It was almost an hour’s drive away, but was the right choice.]

Tribble with her favorite toy – it used to be a rabbit doll, but now it’s a rag.

After a search of our back yard and many medical tests, etc. here’s what the veterinarians think happened. Tribble ate a robin and got salmonella poisoning, which made her septic, and she went into septic shock. They didn’t expect her to live, and we had to leave her at the veterinary hospital in ICU. The veterinarian called us several times throughout the day, encouraging (almost begging) that we bring in all the family to “visit” ( read “say goodbye”). She reported that a dog’s blood pressure was supposed to be 120/80, just like a person. Tribble’s blood pressure was down to 40/something. The vet didn’t give the smaller number, but I knew it had to be pretty small. My husband and I returned to see Tribble while she was in ICU, bringing two of the children with us. We each squatted on the floor to talk to her and touch her. She looked unconscious, but roused and tried to lick my hand; I heard the vet gasp behind us. That was more activity than she had expected.

When we were supposed to say good-bye, we didn’t. I encouraged her to fight. Tribble was young, and we encouraged her to fight. I’m sure that the vet expected us to “put her down.” We didn’t. She expected Tribble to die the first night; she didn’t.

She’s still pretty sick here; just home from the hospital.

We weren’t helpless, and weren’t willing to throw in the towel on Tribble. As soon as we left the vet hospital the first time, I hurried home and sent emails to all my friends that have a knack for energy healing. I posted a plea for help in my Facebook group that had another set of friends with similar talents. My husband and I are Reiki masters, and my youngest daughter is pretty close to getting her master certificate. We are not helpless – we have tools and talents that the vet doesn’t have. Our friends galvanized into action and sent Reiki, Magnified Healing, and Matrix Energetics healing energy to Tribble. Others directed positive thoughts, love, and prayers. We didn’t accept that conventional medicine could do it all. Tribble was on death’s door, but she hadn’t gone through; we had hope.

The vet was pretty hopeless, I think, when she turned Tribble over to the night shift and went home that first night. She thought I was pretty clueless, I’m sure, because I was encouraging Tribble to fight, rather than accepting the severity of her illness. Septic shock is usually fatal, but we continued to give her aggressive medical care, including plasma transfusion and other medical miracles. She was on several antibiotics, fluids, etc. Logically, there was barely a whisker of hope.

Now, two-and-a-half weeks later, Tribble is fine. You can still see where her fur was shaved for the many IVs and abdominal ultrasounds. I’m putting prebiotics and probiotics in her food to repopulate the good bacteria in her gut, but she’s strong, loving, and beautiful. Conventional medicine is absolutely wonderful; without it, I don’t think that the energy work would have been enough. But I also think that without the energy work, conventional medicine wouldn’t have been enough either. She was well-known in the veterinary clinic by the time we left, and I suspect she was known as a Miracle Dog. We think she is.


    1. Thanks. She’s a sweet friend and galvanized some great friends to come to her aid. She’s back to her old self now, only slightly more mellow — a good thing.


  1. If that doesn’t inspire people to not give up whee don’t know what will. When Bingo was having seizures and strokes it was obvious what the vet thought. She actually said, “I’ll go and get one of the nurses to help while you say your goodbye’s”

    Mummy was furious and they drove really far to see a specialist. Now Bingo is mostly well again, he will never be like other piggies but he is doing well.

    Mummy did a special form of massage used mainly on horses and spent months nursing him back to health. She says she is glad to see someone else who could see a light at the end of what appeared to be a very long tunnel. It is just lucky you and our Mummy aren’t afraid of the dark.

    Nibbles, Nutty, Bingo & Buddy


    1. Thank you guys. I think that veterinarians aren’t used to people like us who don’t give up. They forget that the allopathic medicine isn’t everything. How do they think the species survived before medicine was developed? There are other ways, and love can accomplish a lot. Thanks for chiming in. Glad to hear that there are others out there who aren’t scared of a little tunnel work in the dark!


  2. Yeah, Tribble! I really do believe there is a connection between us and our pets, and they know that we’re on their side.

    I just finished giving Zoey the Cool Cat her semi-annual bath. She hates bath. She howls so loudly that I have to close the windows lest the neighbors call animal control on me for animal abuse. As soon as I dry her off and give her some food, she’s all lovey dovey again.


      1. She knows that I only give her a bath when she needs it, and that it’s for her own good. Softens and moisturizes her skin so she doesn’t itch and scratch as much, and she smells wonderful!


    1. Thank you. Tribble is still recuperating. We see her up and around and think she’s fine, but it’s obvious that she’s still recovering. Thank you for your healing thoughts. We all are recovering.


  3. I had tears in my eyes reading this. I’m so, SO happy that Tribble pulled through. I agree 100% with you that the positive energy you and your friends generated coupled with medicine are what pulled your little cutie through this horrible ordeal. It’s wonderful that you didn’t give up on her, and I’m sure she senses your role in her survival. I know the crisis is over, but I’m sending positive thoughts Tribble’s way. 🙂


    1. Thank you, RaisingDaisy. She’s a special dog. Our more psychic friends say they see angels in her aura. I just know that she’s very loving, and it just didn’t feel like “her time.” That gave us room to work. Thank you for your positive thoughts. She’s still recovering.


  4. I almost cried reading through Tribble’s illness. It’s really good to know that she’s fine now.
    The vets may call her Miracle Dog but it was really because you and your family and friends and Tribble herself fought!
    Very beautiful and encouraging!


    1. Thank you. There are so many times that we can’t make a difference. It felt so good that we could this time! And well, she’s got a strong personality; I thought she could fight it!


  5. Beautiful, I’m so glad that Tribble is back home and recovering. Good for you that you did not give up on her.


      1. I have to admit, your story made me cry because it reminded me of my dear one I lost last year. I’m so glad Tribble got to come home.


        1. Me too. We just lost my cat a couple of months ago, and I just didn’t want to lose another. I’m sorry that you’ve had loss like this too. We love them so much; it leaves such a void when they go.


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