How A Dog Taught Me To Get Out Of God’s Way

Two weeks ago, my best friend was attacked on the beach in Malibu. Her head was punctured, her neck slit right across the jugular, her left leg twisted around into a sickening limp. After it was over, the perpetrator and his owner ran away from the scene.

Yes my best friend is a dog. Her name is Pickle.

Five years ago I found her in “a pickle” …hence the name… and rescued her from a life on the streets. I know all animal-lovers will relate when I say she’s so much more than my best friend… But because I’m in my thirties and still waiting to have my own kids (even with a biological clock that’s ticking away louder than Big Ben) my dog has become a dog-baby.

This is Pickle.

Watching her little body being thrown across the sand as she cried in pain was one of the worst experiences of my life. I have never seen a pair of eyes filled with so much need, such a great fear pulsating behind them. These were a pair of eyes begging me for help, and there I stood, unable to do a thing to relieve the suffering.

Later that night, after we had cleaned Pickle’s wounds and tried to stop her body from shaking, I started to give her a Reiki healing. I imagined myself as an open channel, the healing energy flowing through my hands to wherever it was needed. The Reiki was flowing, but so was something else.

It was an old familiar feeling that I could go the rest of my life never meeting with again. Anxiety.

I tried to calm myself down:

I reminded myself that it wasn’t my job to heal Pickle; it was Pickle’s job to heal herself. I was just acting as a conduit for the energy.

I reminded myself that as a coach and healer, it’s in my training to get out of the way and let Spirit/God/Source do the work.

I reminded myself that the work is never about me. My job is to hold space for my clients and to clearly see their potential as already fulfilled, reflecting that vision back to them until they see it themselves.

I reminded myself of some words I heard on an Abraham-Hicks CD: “That is the way Jesus was able to heal, you know. He didn’t see people’s sickness. He only saw their wellness. He saw them as already healed until they were.”

I still couldn’t sleep.

Pickle’s puncture wound was sewn up by the vet the next morning and she was sent home with a bottle of antibiotics. Two days later I woke up and she looked like this:

Pickle’s swollen face.

Her face and head had swelled out disproportionately and her eye was swollen shut like she had just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Her third eyelid was permanently closed. We rushed her back to the vet.

Bacteria from the puncture wound had traveled to the other side of her face and formed a huge abscess that had to be drained. She had conjunctivitis in her left eye and had to be put on even more meds. They sent her home with a cranial drain that I had to express regularly to make sure it was emptying out properly.

She was miserable and so was I. There’s nothing like a helpless creature in your arms asking you to take away her pain to make you feel completely powerless.

She was miserable.

And I had tried everything, hadn’t I?

I had tried both Western and Eastern approaches to healing. I sat up sleepless nights making sure she was still breathing. I sang her lullabies and carried her outside to pee. I had even spoon-fed her meals to her to make sure she was eating properly. The only thing left to try was the one thing that made me feel completely out-of-control.

The hands-off routine.

I started treating her like nothing had happened. Sure, I still tended to her wounds and gave her the meds on time, but I did it like it was no big deal. Even though she looked like Frankenweenie on the outside, in my mind’s eye there was no cone, no drain, no scars, no shaved head, no stitches. I treated to her like she was my normal healthy girl.

And two days later, she was my normal healthy girl!

All my worry and anxiety did nothing but reinforce her pain, injury and suffering. When I just got out of the way, I finally saw that my little fur baby had the power to heal herself all along.

Imagine… all the fancy training programs and certifications I’ve gone through and a little dog was able to teach me better than anyone else could!

It just reinforced what I know to be true:

If we want to heal someone, we must see them as healed.

Today, Pickle is back to her normal happy self. She still looks like Jean Valjean with her little shaved head and scars, but she feels whole again. And best of all, we’re back to the best part of sharing our lives together… Cuddling.

What we do best.

We’d like to thank you for all of your prayers during Pickle’s last couple of weeks. We really appreciate all the support, love and healing energy you sent. And a special shout out to that special someone who sent Pickle a guardian angel charm. She will never take it off!

Please share this article with someone you love. And please share the lessons your own pets have taught you in the comments below. See you there!