Miracle Dog

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.]

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.

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.