The “UltiMUTT” Book for Dog Lovers
If You're Not Covered in Dog Hair, Your Life is Empty!
Compiled by
Debbi Dachinger
Rave Reviews
“What a grand collection of what I will call LOVE SONGS for our beloved angels we call our dogs. Anyone who knows me knows my dogs past and present are essential fabric to the tapestry of my life. I believe our dogs are not just our companions but sent from source as guiding light angels at exactly the right time when we need them most. May you find love, light, and inspiration in this extraordinary collection of stories straight from the heart. We are better humans because of these bright lights we call our little loved ones. Congratulations Debbi—the work you continue to do is important, timely and very much appreciated.”
—Randy Johnson, Director and Playwright, Tony Award nominated production A NIGHT WITH JANIS JOPLIN
“This compilation is a delightful anthology full of important stories for those of us who enjoy the companionship of possibly our best life partners, our dogs. This book is exciting and witty, moving and tender, and is a must read. Highly recommended for anyone who has a fascination with and love of canines and animals.''
—Lee Richter, CEO, HolisticVetCare.com, Holistic Veterinary Care
“‘The UltiMUTT Book for Dog Lovers’ shows exactly how our amazing furry friends can be our biggest allies and our biggest healers, even in our most challenging and vulnerable moments. This book is a celebration of the potent and powerful catharsis that happens when humans meet the undying love and companionship of our canine friends. A must read.”
—Corin Grillo, LMFT psychotherapist, angel channel, intuitive healer, best-selling author
"Aww, only Debbi Dachinger would have the creative imagination to 'download' such a glorious book about our best friends...Dogs.
‘The UltiMUTT Book for Dog Lovers’ is an irresistible book for everyone who chooses to expand their ability to love, and who have decided to last longer than loneliness. It is for readers who have determined that the pandemic of 2020 can be, and has been, a great boost in deciding that life, however long, is worth treasuring. Debbi draws stories of doggie love out of other contributing humans because that is what Debbi does so well. Please read this book; both you and the dog who shares your life now, or your new best friend who will join you as soon as you get to the shelter, will be glad you did."
—Elizabeth Gaylynn Baker, Author of We Know Not What We Do and Gifts of Gratitude, Award winning documentary filmmaker
“‘The UltiMUTT Book for Dog Lovers’ is a joy to read. One heart- warming chapter after another. Each author beautifully and honestly shares their passion, respect, and the life lessons they have learned from the dogs who touched and blessed their lives. As someone who has adopted, trained and worked with many rescue dogs (in my past career of training animals for movies and TV), I respect and appreciate the devotion this book has in showing how adopting a pet from a shelter will change the lives of everyone lucky enough to spend time with the love bundles of fur they open their lives and hearts to. All four paws up for this book!”
—Anne Gordon, Author of Listening with your Heart, former animal trainer for the film industry. Founder of Whale and Dolphin Wisdom Retreats
“As someone who runs a country-wide business, I want to go national and beyond to let everyone know about the heart opening and soul of this ‘UltiMUTT’ dog book. Reading this compilation made me look at dogs and the people who owned them differently. I wanted to immediately sign up for an animal communication course. Dogs are our teachers not the other way around. I feel what you have done with this book will change the way true dog owners will relate to their pets and they and the world will be so much richer as a result. This book really pulls back the curtain and lets the readers know how much dogs are truly family. Canines are our teachers, guides, mentors, emotional supports and the very best friends who will always love you unconditionally.”
—Lisa Browne McCulloch, Hypnotherapist, Energy Healer, Certified Positive Prime Coach
The “UltiMUTT” Book for Dog Lovers: If You're Not Covered in Dog Hair, Your Life is Empty! Compiled by Debbi Dachinger
©2020 by Debbi Dachinger Published by Dare to Dream Knockout Publishing and Podcast
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever, nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted, or otherwise copied for public or private use, without written permission other than “fair use” as brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
ISBN-13: ISBN-10:
A portion of the profits from this book are donated to Cuddly Canines Rescue, who began saving pregnant moms and unweaned litters 15 years ago, when they actually got behind closed doors at the shelters and saw how many unwanted families were slated for euthanasia. They are 100% volunteer based, 501(c)3 non-profit corporation, with foster homes throughout Orange County and LA County, California. cuddlycanines.com
Dedication
To all our dogs, past, present, and future, who are our loves, life savers, protectors, favorite comedians, teachers, best friends, heart menders, foot warmers, selfie buddies, bathroom escorts, bed stealers, fluffy alarm clocks, playful, therapists, beautiful, forgiving, pure magic, and always there.
For my beloved dog… when I needed a hand, I found your paw.
—Debbi Dachinger
Table of Contents
Foreword: Ryan Matthews ...... 10
Chapter 1: Infinite Abundance by Debbi Dachinger and Shelby the Dog ...... 17 Chapter 2: Love Me, Love My Dogs by Viki Winterton and Eippy ...... 33 Chapter 3: Rescue Reilly: The Covid-19 Super Dog by Hal Price & Rescue Reilly ...... 47 Chapter 4: My Four-Legged Hero by Madison Adams and Britney, the Dog ...... 59 Chapter 5: Doggy Divorce by Dr. Marni Hill Foderaro and Bogey ...... 71 Chapter 6: Do Rescue Dogs Suffer from Undiagnosed PSTD? by Barbara Longué, David Adelson and Cleo ...... 85 Chapter 7: From the Desk of Momo and Sherman by Paola S. Anderson and Momo and Sherman, the Dogs ...... 95 Chapter 8: Two Bodies: One Beautiful Soul by the Andersons: Comet, Simba, and Judy ...... 107 Chapter 9: Roxy to the Rescue, In Memory of Denise Cohen by Leana Orsua and Roxy ...... 123 Chapter 10: Conversations with Dog by Suzy Godsey and Yesdog Charlie ...... 137 Chapter 11: From Trauma to Freedom by Nancy Sommers ...... 151 Chapter 12: “A Dog Taught Me to Talk” How Dogs Fulfill People’s Lives by Michael Burkey ...... 167
Afterword: Debbi Dachinger ...... 179
Foreword by Ryan Matthews
Have you ever stopped, slowed down, and thought about what is so magical about dogs? Why is it so easy to love them? Why is the beginning of every day as if it were Christmas morning to a dog?
My first dog was unlike any first dog anyone could have. I met Rex, a 95-pound German Shepherd who made it a habit to bite people and he loved it. Before you get your hackles up—that’s the fur on the back of the neck that stands up when a dog is bothered—it’s important to know that Rex was a Military Working Dog (MWD). I met him while going through the Military Working Dog Handlers course at Lackland Air Force base in 2002.
10 I didn’t realize it at the time, but Rex helped me face my fears. Meeting him the first time while I walked through the dog kennels with countless canines barking, lunging on their kennel doors, and growling at me, you could see the fire in their eyes; these dogs were built to work. The Military Working Dog loves to have a job, and to me to perform Secret Service missions for world leaders as a young twenty-something-year-old was invigorating. Arriving on the scene of a bomb threat and telling police and others what I needed to perform a safe and secure bomb threat sweep of the building was a bonding experience like no other. Until I met Zito that is.
I’ll never forget the most intense moment I had with Zito, another German Shepherd and the MWD who I deployed with in Mosul, Iraq, in 2005. We were in a Stryker—a huge armored military vehicle—on a mission with Infantry soldiers. While en route to the mission, the higher enlisted soldier told me to grab my dog and lay in the middle of the vehicle on top of the first aid liter and put my dog on top of me. I thought that was a strange request but the look on his face was of complete seriousness. He then yelled, “We have been hit (with a bomb) every time on this route!”
I immediately went into action and as he said, the reason for putting Zito on top of me was that when we are hit with the improvised explosive device (IED), the hope was that my armor would protect Zito. I remember looking into Zito’s eyes and for the first time, I could hear a dog’s voice. Zito knew I was scared; he could see my shame and sense I was ready to die. Then, in an intuitive and spiritual way at a time where I could use all the spirituality out there, he reassured me and though he was scared too, he let me know we would be okay. He told me to let go of my shame of putting us in harm’s way. (I volunteered us to go to the war), and he told me not today. Today, we would not die.
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After my military service, I opened a pet dog training company and throughout the years, I have worked with thousands of dogs and their owners. In that time, dogs have taught me far more than I have ever taught them, and for that I am forever grateful. When I came home from the war, I was numb, shut off and detached from the world and my own feelings. Eventually, I was able to open my heart back up. Dogs made it feel safe to do so and for that I have dedicated my life to giving back to them.
That’s why now I am here to help people better understand dogs by cracking the canine code. You see friends, dogs have been talking to us the whole time. We just haven’t slowed down long enough to listen. There are a number of life lessons dogs teach us. We just need to be open to receive them. Have you ever stopped to think how you treat your dog and then how you treat your significant other? What would our world be like if we treat each other the same way we treat our dogs?
12 Possibly the greatest teachers in life are dogs. I know that has been true for me. Dogs show us how to love. As you will read the many heartfelt stories in this book, you will hear the depth at how dogs have given themselves to their humans even when the humans didn’t do the same. A dog’s heart knows no limits and they don’t pull their love away. It is always there and is as reliable as their loyalty. I challenge you to love yourself and those that mean the most to you the same way your dog loves you.
You will discover deep and intimate encounters that the authors have had by sharing their fears, insecurities, and most vulnerable moments with their dogs. There is something magical in how a dog shows up for us when we need it most. They model an impeccable way of being present, listening, not judging and providing support in the most difficult of times. This is also another gift we can apply in our life with others.
With all that our canine companions have done for us as mankind, we hope that our efforts of paying tribute, sending love, and honoring those pets that remain in our hearts forever, will feel the greatest joy through our acknowledging them in The UltiMUTT Book for Dog Lovers. Remember to be open to the lessons that dogs teach us and consider applying the many lessons and gifts you will
13 read in the book. The reality is life is too short for our dogs. We owe it to them and ourselves to live a life full of love, compassion, loyalty, fun, belly rubs, and slobbery kisses, and there’s no mistake that “dog” is “God” spelled backwards.
Stay Pawsitive, Ryan Matthews “K-9 Mentalist”
About the Author K-9 Mentalist, Ryan Matthews, is a combat veteran turned celebrity dog trainer. He began his career in the Army while training and handling Elite Military Working Dogs. After his honorable discharge from the Army, Ryan began applying his K-9 Mentalist strategies and has successfully transformed the lives of more than 3,000 dogs and their owners.
By applying the lessons he learned while training dogs, Ryan has managed to overcome severe PTSD, childhood trauma, and near-death experiences. He shares his valuable knowledge in two TEDx talks, books, reality TV, talk shows, and news appearances.
His e-learning program with 200 instructional dog training videos can be found online. The results-driven DIY Dog Training School was created as a way to prevent dogs from being returned to shelters, where they face euthanasia simply because of their naughty behaviors.
Learn more at www.WorldOfDogTraining.com.
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16 Chapter 1 Infinite Abundance by Debbi Dachinger and Shelby the Dog
To change? Maybe the term more appropriate to use is “to expand” absolutely when one learns to have fun by opening up their life to another being. Changing occurs when one reaches new levels of that fun and learns to create certain levels of success, which causes a desire to seek, stretch and reach for even more. It is not in a needy way. It is rather a sense of curiosity. It is not in a sense of possessiveness, but in a sense of celebration—to have more companionship, more fun, invite in a new experience, and to have more life victories because of that experience.
The only dog I had known was my Grandparents’ collie, aptly named Maestro, since he lived amongst a highly musical family. As a child, I loved Maestro, that beautiful canine, so I was confused and sad when my Grandparents decided—well into Maestro’s adulthood—that they needed to find him a new home. My Grandfather’s books and worldwide speaking took him traveling and on the road for longer periods of time.
My grandparents once showed me a picture of Maestro on a front porch stoop of some house with his tongue happily out, living in his new home, next to another dog, his new step-dog-brother. I wondered how Maestro felt about the change of homes and if he was indeed happier. I was not happier without him, since I spent copious amounts of time at my Grandparents’ home.
17 In Chinese astrology, I am born in the year of the dog. Because of this astrological association, I understand dogs
as I also love going for very long walks, having my head petted and belly rubbed, eating a lot of kibble (the human
18 kind), and am generally fun loving and very social. Not to mention extremely loyal.
Although I had cats throughout my life, aside from knowing Maestro and an occasional friend’s dog, I had not had any other direct experience. One day, without a clue as to why or how the winds shifted from feline to canine, I became obsessed with dogs.
If I saw a dog in a store or being walked down the street or anywhere that contact could be made, I was compelled to ask the dog’s person if I could meet their dog. It became the single most joyful time for me daily—how many dogs I could meet and greet and get to know. The obsession continued to grow, and I knew… I wanted a dog. Big time.
I was full of trepidation. Was I good dog parent material? Could I properly care for a dog? Why did people way too often tell me, “Having a dog is like having a child,” with an inflection that made it sound like if I deigned to get a dog, I would then become imprisoned in a household full of mess with no freedom? And, if people said that (and they frequently did), then WHY, OH WHY, did so MANY PEOPLE have dogs?!
I decided to find out for myself. I offered my services as a dog sitter—for free—to a friend’s daughter’s dog whenever she traveled. Gizmo was a terrier with funny buck teeth, huge eyes, and a pushed in nose. His face features did not fit well and yet I fell in love with this dog. I became completely devoted to Gizmo who had no hang ups about how he looked. We had a lot of fun and Gizmo filled my life when I dog sat. Repeatedly, I had Gizmo stay with me for two weeks at a time and my questions of if I’d be a good and healthy parent were being answered. I was equipped to do this!
19 I knew it was imminent for me to have my own dog when my friend’s daughter came to pick up her dog after returning from one of her trips. I smiled handing back over Gizmo’s brush, food, toys, and bed, and as soon as the daughter and Gizmo departed, I quietly broke down sobbing, bereft at Gizmo leaving me yet again. I had become so happy when he was a part of my everyday life.
Yes, once you’ve reached those levels of accomplishment through the doggy’s dress rehearsal and puppy test drive, you don’t leave it behind you, by any means. You expand beyond it to learn to trust yourself, move forward, to create success on yet higher, more intricate levels, now ready to acquire your own dog.
Yes, it does involve transforming—it involves expanding your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual self. Ultimately, the fun and success of a relationship with your dog means reaching and finding your true self and discovering your inner puppy parent. Believing I innately had what it would take and then knowing to bring in trainers to teach me and us the rest, I was set to find my dog.
There is a divine design for each tail-wagger!
Just as the perfect picture of the oak is in the acorn, the divine pattern of a pooch is in the matrix of our life, already spun into action before we even arrive there to experience it.
In the divine design, there is no limitation, only health, heart connection, love, the perfect best friend and all that, bow-wow.
I started going to shelters in the hope to find my dog. Each day I scoured yet another rescue place and at that time, 5 years ago, only two breeds seemed to exist in these
20 shelters. I knew I must live according to the divine plan, so I kept moving forward.
One day I went into a local pet food store and spoke with a woman who was helping to adopt cats and told her my dilemma in locating the dog for me. I knew I wanted a puppy and that I wanted a mixed breed that was part poodle because they are hypoallergenic, do not shed, and are generally smart and easy to train, so a poodle mix with any other breed was where I began. The woman recommended that I check out PetFinder.com. From that site, I found another called CuddlyCanines.com. They are a nonprofit rescue agency who provide fantastic foster homes for dogs. They are a Southern California only based operation, who save dogs from high kill shelters. Their motto is: Saving one dog may not make a difference to the world, but it makes a world of difference to that one dog.
I filled out their application and was accepted as a potential dog adopter. One day a beautiful dog named Lulu was found pregnant on the streets and would have been euthanized with the pups inside her at a shelter. Instead, Cuddly Canines rescued and fostered Lulu and she lived pregnant in a beautiful home with a wonderful, caring family in the city of Irvine, California until she gave birth to three puppies, two boys and one girl. I received a call to go see the litter and have my pick. Two rambunctious boy pups ran all over and the girl pup was noticeably quiet and still. “That one,” I pointed to the girl pup, and so it was that 8 weeks later I went to pick up my new puppy.
Picking her name was something I took seriously in the interim between meeting her at two weeks old and retrieving her at eight weeks old. I poured through female names, looked at the numerology and each name’s meaning. Name after name did not meet the grade. Until one day while driving mere blocks from my home, I was thinking about the directions to my condo at the time and
21 I mispronounced my street name, Selby, and instead said Shelby out loud and I knew that that was it. Her name was to be Shelby.
The name Shelby is typically English and means willow. Amazing as it is, the name Shelby is associated with the number 8. Shelby was born August 8, 2015. Her birth month is eight, her birthday is eight, and she was born in an eight year. Eight in numerology means infinite abundance. Shelby was meant to be her name as her name was chosen before I even knew about the number eight association.
I took the train from Los Angeles to Irvine to pick up Shelby on her two-month birthday; the day she was slated to come home and start life with me. A friend drove us back to Los Angeles and this tiny creature with a big rib cage, white hair and caramel coloring slept on my shoulder near my ear the entire ride home. I was done, I was in love. Pup, pup, hurray!
Often, one of our biggest questions is, “What’s going to happen?” We may ask this about our relationships, our career, our circumstances, our life.
22 Yesterday, I was learning how to self-care and set up healthy boundaries, to say no to anything in my life that did not feel light or right. Today, it was time to consider another important word: yes.
I was open to learning to say yes to things that felt good, to what I wanted for myself and for others.
I was learning to say yes to fun. Yes, to great, collaborative gatherings, to calling a friend, asking for help, to filling my life with a new puppy.
Shelby came into my life with a love of freedom. If I left home for a few hours, I’d put up a baby door and leave her in the kitchen behind the door with pee pads. I do not know how she did it because she was the size of my hand, but each time I’d return home she had climbed the baby door, toppled over the other side and gotten happily free. There was no caging or stopping this beautiful, free spirit.
Every day with Shelby was an adventure and experiencing life through her and with her was a big yes unfoldment. Shelby loved the rain and would run to the street gutter to watch the water race by with leaves in it, and then run alongside the moving water. In October, she liked the Halloween adornments in the neighborhood and explored every house’s front yard cemetery and decorative skeletons.
She lived to meet and greet other dogs and people. Besides loving her freedom, she was also extremely social and friendly. Shelby and I often hugged at home and she took this hugging practice out into the world. To this day, Shelby meets strangers who want to connect with her, and she puts her paws around them for a hug, or gently pushes her head and body into theirs. They know they are being hugged and most people walk away saying, “That was the best moment of my day!”
23 Shelby and I spent one and a half years in dog training together so she could be socialized, and I could learn to be the best dog parent. The training sessions were the smartest thing I had done for us both and we grew exponentially from weekly attendance.
Shelby was thriving. We were both being nurtured and nourished from our relationship. I was saying yes to the best life and love had to offer. As an entrepreneur, I worked from home and spent each day with Shelby as she slept on my desk as I worked.
One day, while I was taking Shelby for a walk, she got free and disengaged from her holster. She was quite young and in her puppy fashion she thought being free was the funniest thing ever. Barking, jumping, running away from me while saying, ”Catch me if you can!” I was living in a condo in the city of Westwood, California, the Wilshire Corridor, known as one of the busiest streets in the country, near one of the busiest (405) freeways in the country. There she was running away from me thinking it was entertaining while I was outthinking her in order to catch her in my arms so that she would not come in harm’s way near the rushing 6-lane street traffic. To no avail, no matter how I tried to outmaneuver Shelby, she continued to be quicker and cleverer than I.
This went on long enough that my concern became panic, and seeing that she considered this play, the only thing I could think of as a last resort, was to surrender. I backed away from the street. I backed away from the curb past the grass into the walkway that went into my building. Although I was still outdoors, my back was up against the glass front doors. I was scared that this was the last time I would see her and I completely surrendered. After trying so long to catch her or get her to come to me, I knew of no other way.
24 The next moment, after I surrendered, two young girls came jogging by. They looked at me standing near the glass doors and could see the utter despair and panic on my face, and then saw the joyful puppy yipping and running by the curb and the street. One of the runners called to me, “Would you like me to catch her?” I exclaimed, “Oh yes, please, please do.” She scooped Shelby up in her arms and brought her over to me by the glass doors. And just as quickly as she handed Shelby over into my arms, she jogged away. I literally knew she was an Angel who knew exactly what to do and how. My Shelby was safe. You can bet that from then on, my dog had a well-fitting holster and leash. And an angel.
I loved introducing Shelby to different experiences because she had the adventurer, much like me, in her. I remember the first time I took her to the beach. There is a private beach in Malibu, California where I knew she would be safe while she ran around the sand enjoying the greatest day of her life. At one point, she saw a bird and was fascinated by the fact that it could take flight. She ran so fast; boy that little dog was such an athlete and eventually Shelby grew to have long, beautiful legs. And run she did after that bird and when the bird took flight over the water, so did Shelby!
She threw out her front legs to fly like the bird, only she landed splat in the ocean water of the Pacific. I ran after her and brought her little swimming paws and body out of the water. She had done great in her first swim; it a huge surprise to her to find out what ocean water was in that fashion! There were other times after that when I took her into the pool where I lived because I thought it a good practice that she understands all the elements. Although not an innate swimmer by any means, Shelby does now know how to paddle and swim.
25 At one juncture in my life, I felt like I had completed a lot of goals on my bucket list and was looking for a new way to be fulfilled. I wondered if Shelby had a bucket list. I put together a list I thought Shelby would enjoy, of things to do and experience. One of her goals was to re-meet her mom Lulu, and her two brothers, all of whom she had not seen since she was two months old. I wondered if she would know them. Would she recognize them by scent? It was quite a task to locate where everybody had ended up since every dog in her immediate family, including mom, had been adopted—but by whom? Through Cuddly Canines and her original Irvine foster mom, I was able to contact and pull everyone together. They all agreed to meet, and a date was set.
After sending each other pictures of how our dogs had grown up, we agreed to meet in a dog park in Orange County. I was so excited that day for the event to finally come. That same day while taking Shelby on her morning walk, she decided to try to taste what a bee might be like on her tongue. Oh, that puppy! Of all days! So lucky I must say because she went after the flower and the bee, and the bee was clearly in her mouth. Thankfully it did not sting her so we were able to attend her family reunion.
We arrived in Irvine at a well-cared for dog park and all the dog parents were terrific. We got to see Mom Lulu, who was simply beautiful, and her two brothers, who although looked somewhat like Shelby had different bodies. You could tell they were familial but still so different. Shelby was the only one who got the long, beautiful legs. Shelby had become quite a gorgeous 15-pound cockapoo (Cocker spaniel—Poodle mix), with tons of personality.
The family of dogs played and enjoyed treats and each other, but they did not know that they were family.
26 Today Shelby is 5 years old and she is pawsibly the biggest part of my life. I would like to take her camping next in the Sequoia National Forest where I have been going every month. Once a month I get away from the city for a respite for a much needed three days of camping in a tent, hiking, and eating yummy campfire food, enjoying luxurious sleep, and a hammock! I have decided that on the next trip Shelby will come because I know she will love being in the outdoors, having a grand camping adventure.
One day it will be snowing in the mountains; in my dog’s opinion, Southern California is improved by snow. I will enjoy walking my dog when it is snowing because Shelby’s enthusiasm is infectious. In the snow, Shelby will establish her territorial rights to the pine trees and mini snow moguls as if she were the first dog to relieve herself there. This will be an illusion that will be made possible by the fresh snow covering the legions of previous dog paw prints for which the snow-covered mountains are famous. That is an adventure Shelby and I are looking forward to this upcoming winter.
27 Shelby has taught me that: Dogs can read our emotions, dogs don’t feel guilt (researchers have found that puppy dog eyes are about fear, not guilt). Dogs live in the now, moment by moment. A dog’s sense of smell is 10,000 to 100,000 times stronger than ours (they can smell the sugar in your coffee and they can detect disease through their 300 million smell receptors/humans have 5 million). Different tail wags mean different things (high tail wag is excited, down is submissive, left tail wag is concerned, short strokes is anxious, and wagging fast is excited). A dog’s nose print is unique, just like your fingerprints are unique. When dog’s kick backwards after they go to the bathroom it is not to cover up their business, instead they are using the scent glands in their feet to mark their territory. The best part of everyday with Shelby is that both human and dog blood pressures go down while petting a dog.
Shelby has no sense of a camera, nothing at all like her mom. Having her photo successfully taken proves to be chaos as she will look anywhere but at the lens and has no idea how much and how often I would like to capture her presence. However, she does know how to successfully sound like a dragon. This is a feat she mastered as a baby and has kept up well into her adulthood. It is a part of how she plays, to pretend to attack but never actually uses her teeth, and to spar, where she gestures but never lands a blow and makes a noise right out of an action scene in Games of Thrones, curling back her mouth, showing teeth and snorting in a non-ladylike fashion. This dragon-like behavior happens when Shelby gets on a bed, pounces, and bounces back and forth, playing dragon and using the pillows as a shield, pretending to go after a pound of flesh but never actually making contact. I laugh like a child during this play while Shelby has the stamina to go on and on until one of us tuckers out.
28 Even though she is often unaware of the camera, Shelby’s first foray into my world, at two months old, was to walk the red carpet. Imagine a cockapoo puppy the size of the palm of your hand walking the red carpet at an event and having her photo taken by a professional photographer. I was so proud of her that day and when we entered the event, she slept the entire time in a little puppy bed while I was either on stage or in the audience.
One day, we were in the middle of a walk striding along when she stops. Dead in her tracks. Stops and looks up at me. She will not take another step until I stop and look down at her. This is a thing now and then in the middle of a walk. It is a necessity for her to stop and look up at me and connect. Her tail is excitedly wagging, and she wants to let me know she loves me. She wants to look me in the eye and spend a moment. It is unheard of in a busy world, to stop mid-stride, just stop and look at one another. And yet, she in her gentle, loving way demands it of me. And I give in every time, because these moments are the stuff that real life is made of, the memories that will stick with me forever. These are the moments when I bend down and touch her head and say loving things to her, which she so richly deserves, and take a breath, to just be in the now with this beautiful fur baby who gives me so very much, every day of my life.
We stop at the gate. She wants in. It is a child’s park, she knows it exists, and she wants to go play. But it is in Beverly Hills and they lock up the child’s park every night at 5p.m. I let her know there is something else better just down the block. I better make good on it, so I find her something else adventurous to engage in, sometimes simply to throw a stick while she runs to retrieve it and brings it back.
It is the same with Starbucks. I cannot pass by a Starbucks coffee shop without Shelby insisting that we go in. It is a
29 Starbucks where they serve Puppachino, which is a dog drink they created, essentially whipped cream in a cup. She can smell Starbucks and she knows it is time for her cup of cream and my java so in we go to order.
It is her birthday. I want to do something special and celebrate that she was born and what she means to me. My goodness Shelby is five years old. We go to Starbucks and order her Puppachino and then we go to a dog beach where the dogs run off leash. We spend the entire day there. Me, my partner, his two dogs, and my dog Shelby celebrate her fifth birthday. My partner does not know when his dog’s birthdays are, so I say, “Let’s just roll them all into one and make it one August 8 birthday party for all our dogs.” We enjoy a full day at a dog beach, walking along the shore, dipping into the summer water, our dogs running, socializing, and playing with other pooches and then returning to us on their own. It is a glorious, perfect day.
At the end of the day, we give them their favorite dinner: lamb liver. They love it so much and eat it up; they are happy puppies indeed.
Shelby loves grass. She lives to lay on grass. She is a well- built athletic dog. In the middle of a walk, she will saunter over to grass. One might think she is stopping to relieve herself but no, it is a fake out. Instead, she curls her bum underneath her and lays down. She makes it clear she has no intention of getting up. In fact, she loves laying on grass so much that all she wants to do is sit on the grass, watch life go by, and enjoy it.
She is like an old traditional, peasant woman who sets herself up to camp on the grass and simply watch the cars, the people, other dogs, the birds in the trees, and life go by. She is so happy just to lay there and watch. She has been like this since she was two months old. She came
30 intact with this personality; an old middle eastern woman happily sitting on grass watching the life happen around her, all inside a five-year-old Cockapoo dog.
I recently acquired a new car, a Lexus 250. I bought Shelby a furry square to sit on in the passenger seat. For some reason, Shelby will not sit or lay on her furry square, rather she insists on laying in the middle column between the front seats, much like a sphinx or a hood ornament. Otherwise, she insists on sitting in the backseat. Dogs come with their own distinct personalities, and Shelby lays in the backseat as I drive, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I call this experience, Driving Miss Shelby.
To change? Shelby, the dog, has brought success, fun and expansion to me and more, and continues to be my constant companion, my infinitely abundant, willow of a dog. Every day spent with her is a dogmatic experience.
How incredibly lucky am I!
31 About the Author
Debbi Dachinger is a Media Visibility Shaman who helps clients stand out and create an authentic presence. She is a syndicated, award-winning podcast host, nominated for two People’s Choice Podcast Awards, a Webby award, interviews celebrities on the red carpet, has been interviewed on over 1,500 media outlets, and is the author of four international best-selling books.
As a certified coach, she offers group and private sessions to help you write a page turner book, runs a company with a fully-done-for-you guaranteed international bestseller book launch program, and teaches how to be interviewed on radio and podcast shows with results.
Debbi hosts the award-winning, syndicated 13-year old podcast called “Dare to Dream” on Apple podcasts and YouTube.com/debbidachinger.
Debbi is a keynote speaker at high level national events; a media personality, has been seen in the news, documentary films, on the cover of magazines, and is a regular featured contributor to Published! Magazine.
Awards and Accolades: Editor’s Pick: Featured Intriguing Creator, Broadcasting Industry Lifetime Achievement Award, inducted into the Who’s Who Hall of Fame for Entertainment, winner of Successful Achievements from Voices of Women Worldwide, and recipient of Heart and Spirit Award from the Evolutionary Business Council. https://Debbidachinger.com
32 Chapter 2 Love Me, Love My Dogs by Viki Winterton and Eippy
How my love affair started I just loved my Dad; my Dad just loved dogs. So, I love dogs! I came by it genetically and environmentally. I was hooked from the beginning! Dogs had me by my heart strings!
When I turned four-years-old, my Dad was sure my birthday present should be a puppy. He found a black Cocker Spaniel for sale in the newspaper. When we arrived at the house, there was a shabby black dog tied by a chain on the porch. Dad knocked on the door and said that we were there to see the puppy. The man who answered the door pointed to the tethered dog, cowering in front of us.
My Dad was the kindest man on earth. He immediately approached the ragged pooch and reached out to pet him. The dog backed up in total fear.
My Dad looked at me and said, “I think this is your puppy.”
My Mom said, “But this isn’t a puppy, it is a grown dog.”
My Dad asked the man, “How old is the dog?” The man responded, “Eight-months old.”
My Dad looked at me and said, “You see, he is still a puppy. And he needs a home, our home.”
33 That black matted mutt became this only child’s best friend for 13 years!
34 He cleaned up well. He was actually a full-breed Cocker. My Dad thought we should name him Geronimo because he was such a brave warrior. It was decided! Then my Dad turned to me and said, “One day when I retire, we will have a dog kennel and help dogs in need like Geronimo.” It was a dream we shared, my Daddy and me.
As I grew up with Geronimo, I learned so much from him. He was a wise, old soul, just like my Dad.
Communication—Geronimo was the best listener. It felt safe to tell him anything. He never told a soul, not even my Mom and Dad. He was always there to quietly listen and give me an encouraging lick in the face. This is what we all need at times in our lives, and what a great gift to give. No advice, just quiet, encouraging listening.
Loyalty—What a brave hero Geronimo was to me. He was my protector. There were times when I deserved a scolding over the years, but Geronimo would stand between me and either of my parents and bark so loud they could not talk over him. I am sure I enjoyed this trait in Geronimo far more than my parents did, but there was another valuable lesson learned here as well.
Sense of Adventure—My family loved to camp in tents, water ski, snow ski, and sometimes we stayed in nice hotels. Geronimo was up for everything, roughing it and going first class. We grew up enjoying a full life that knew no boundaries, where the company you choose to keep is your true treasure. Living large in my experience with people I love remains my passion and preference today!
Responsibility—This was one of my hardest lessons. One day I left the gate unlocked. Geronimo followed me out of the backyard, into the street. He was hit by a car. I thought we had lost him, and it was all my fault. Dad rushed Geronimo in for medical treatment and he recovered, but
35 I never forgot how one careless moment or action can injure another we hold dear to us. This lesson stays with me to this day. We are totally responsible for our actions and the results. What a gift to learn this so young.
Kindness—One day I returned from a fair with a duckling. Quack became Geronimo’s yard mate, and he could not have been gentler with his new little buddy, though he was a giant in size comparison. He was never jealous, competitive or territorial, just kind to her. It was his nature to be kind, to share what he had, including his home.
Understanding—Quack became a full-grown duck with the widest wingspan. Her greatest joy was to chase Geronimo with wings widespread. Geronimo would take shelter under our vacation trailer, and never retaliated.
Letting Go—They remained friends until we had to move, and we decided to let Quack join the ducks at a local pond. We took a loaf of bread as Dad thought the other ducks would better accept her if she brought a gift. Geronimo followed Quack into the water to say goodbye to his friend and watch Quack swim away to join her new family. Goodbyes are so hard sometimes, but Geronimo was quick to forget his own sorrow and came to console me, as a tear or two fell from his fabulous face.
There were many gifts to follow before it was time for Geronimo to say, “Goodbye.” He crossed the rainbow bridge the day of my first high school prom. My Dad followed him way too soon, only 5 years later. They both prepared me, so I could be there for them in their final hours, be there for my Mom and for others, with the gift of unconditional love they gave me, a love that never dies.
And the love grew, and grew, and grew… I became fascinated by the AKC Working Dog group. They all had a job to do in life. My favorite stories surrounded
36 the Saint Bernard and their famous rescues in the snow during avalanches. I got my first Saint, Caesar, a few years before Dad died. He was joined by a girlfriend and they had pups. My Dad’s final gift to me was a beautiful chalet style doghouse he built for Momma dog and her pups.
My Dad died a month before retirement and never realized his dream kennel, but I carried through on that dream for both of us when I opened It’s a Dog’s World in California. While I raised and showed the Saints for years, the kennel was always active in rescue adoptions by forever homes. We would work with local shelters in the most creative ways to get pups adopted. We would secure free airtime on TV and offer free grooming and delivery of the pups to their new homes. It kept us so busy and the rewards of seeing these pups become a new addition to a family were beyond my wildest dreams. I thought of Geronimo, chained to that porch every time a homeless pup was adopted.
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I was one of the first breeders to set high standards of health testing for all of my kids before they were to be bred—full blood work, CERFing the eyes, OFA Certification of hips. My goal was to raise beautiful examples of the AKC breed standard, who were healthy, who could do the work they were intended to do, were smart, and could show well in obedience.
Then I was introduced to the Newfoundland. To me, they looked like a beautiful, black Saint Bernard, or a giant version of Geronimo. They are also a Working Dog, but their job is water rescue. Their natural instinct is so keen, my Newfie, Chuck, would try to rescue surfers as he swam in the ocean and even try to save the boats passing by!
38 One day Betty White called me at the kennel. I was so shocked—I almost dropped the phone. She had seen my Newfie, Chuck in a dog show magazine, and said that Merv Griffin wanted to feature him on his TV show. We had our Champions at the kennel over the years, but now we had a real celebrity in the house—a TV star! He showed perfect manners on stage with Merv and I was ever so proud.
When one of my favorite Saints died, a friend gave me a tiny Shih Tzu as a gift. Pork Chop was only 4 pounds but had the heart of a lion. That is where her breed’s name originated, the Lion Dog. She became the kennel mascot. She actually ran the place, and the big dogs, and me!
39 In memory of my Dad, my standards were set to the highest. I felt I could do nothing less while living his vision. It was always a passionate hobby for me. I am convinced that people who breed dogs with the right intent do not make money doing so. Someone always needs grooming, veterinary attention, is having babies, getting tested, being born, 24/7 care to be sure newborn pups are thriving, and then passing to the rainbow bridge—and they know when you are there when they start their final journey. It is a very emotional and sacred responsibility, caring for these pure, 4-legged souls who love and depend on you. But then for me it was much more than a hobby, it was a legacy for me and my Dad.
The kennel led to dog grooming shops and the first mobile dog grooming franchise in California.
By my late 20s, I had also had a modeling career, and founded a successful bi-coastal advertising agency. After a few years, the ad agency was acquired. I also sold my beloved kennel and dog activities. I longed to travel. (I inherited that from my Dad as well. When he was young, he was a barnstormer, and a glider pilot during the war.) I remembered the lessons I had learned from my wise Geronimo about knowing the time to graciously let go and move on to a new journey.
And the love changes in wonderful ways! I moved on a sailboat for a few years, which at the time, represented ultimate freedom to me. I went into an International consultant career for decades. Through the years and through wonderful partnerships, I always found a way to stay involved and make the smaller dogs a priority. I often had my Shih Tzu accompany me on my business trips across the globe. Many times, I would race to an important meeting direct from the airport. My Shih Tzu would be with me in his little carry-on bag, and no one
40 in the meeting would be aware of the little four-legged visitor joining us for our highbrow conference or luncheon!
Now, these little Shih Tzu are not like the Working Dogs. They are in the AKC Toy Group. This means just what it implies, they sit on laps and accept all the love you can give them. That is their job! Remember how my little Pork Chop ran the kennel? I soon found they quietly work their way into your heart and start running everything! They are also very protective of their family and have no idea of their small size. They are truly lion-hearted, and they know how to work a crowd, small or large!
When I started raising these little guys, I thought, “This will be easier. They are so small; they won’t have the inherent health problems of the larger Working Dogs.” Then I discovered the Shih Tzu at that time was the 4th most afflicted dog breed of hip dysplasia. Though litters of pups were seldom in those days, the rigid health testing continued.
41 I had a wonderful life, but something was missing. Someone to share life with was missing. In the late 1980s, I had a dream. The dream was so vivid, I felt as if it was divinely inspired. I captured it on a small piece of paper. It started with this wish: “I want to live by the ocean, I want to live in the mountains…with a brilliant man in a home filled with love…” I folded up the tiny piece of paper and put it away.
The dogs are the reason I met my missing piece, the love of my life. I was living on the East Coast and my friend and dog partner, Mary in Phoenix, Arizona needed to take a trip, so I traveled out to stay with the Shih Tzu.
It was on that trip in 2007 that I meet Terry. What I thought would be an interesting dinner turned into life filled with love with a brilliant man. Terry was retired from an illustrious career as an Aerospace Engineer in major projects including the SR71, “The Blackbird” and has 24 patents to his credit. And oh, by the way, he had a home in the Rocky Mountains of New Mexico and another by the ocean in Manzanillo, Old Mexico.
A year after we met, I stopped traveling for business, started a publishing company that I could run virtually and moved from the East Coast to New Mexico so we could be together. When packing up to move, I found the slip of folded paper that I had completely forgotten. It was somewhat aged and dated February 3, 1989. It said, “I want to live by the ocean, I want to live in the mountains…with a brilliant man in a home filled with love…” Some things worth waiting for just take a little time—some take decades!
Terry had a dog, Raz, a Shelty. Terry and his wife, Carol, had been married 41 years, when she became ill and passed away. Raz was Terry’s only family. For years, the dogs had been my only family as well. My partner, Mary
42 became sole Mom to the Shih Tzu clan. Terry, Raz and I became a family. (Remember, Geronimo had taught me that lesson of letting go, so long ago!)
Terry, Raz and I spent a few winters in sunny Mexico and winters in the Rockies of New Mexico. Raz stayed to help Terry heal from his loss of Carol and lingered until he started a new and beautiful life. Then, Raz made the journey to meet Carol at the Rainbow Bridge.
It was a sad time, and Terry vowed there would never be another dog in his life. I so missed not having a dog in our life together, but I understood. As Geronimo was there for me, I was there for Terry, as a tear or two fell from his fabulous face.
Several years later a call came from friends who were also my past partners in the Shih Tzu, Reed and Cherie. It seems something very special happened on my birthday in 2015. A baby boy Shih Tzu was born. In his pedigree were all my favorite dogs that I had raised and loved over so many years. He was a living legacy!
Terry was adamant. He did not want another dog. I pleaded that it had been so long without a dog—this dog was little and would be easy—it would fill the hole Raz left in our family. Terry would not budge. Then I simply said, “He is born on my birthday, he is a genetic celebration of my dreams, my Dad’s dreams. I am flying from Mexico to Florida to pick him up.” Terry knew this was a rare time when I was immoveable. He said, reluctantly, “OK, but I am not taking care of him!”
Getting to Florida from our little town of Manzanillo, Mexico was not easy. An overnight stay in Los Angeles was required, before taking an early flight with 2 stops to West Palm Beach. Cherie and Reed met me at the airport with the puppy. He was so tiny. He weighed just a pound at
43 almost 3-months-old. I was so nervous. It had been a while since I had been a new puppy Mom. I had only a 2-hour layover to pick up the pup, then 2 stops on the way back to LA. The pup was so tired, as was I when we checked into the hotel. Then there was the early AM flight back to Mexico, but it was a labor of love at first sight.
And then there was the homecoming after this 48-hour cross-countries jaunt. I walked in the door from the airport and Terry could not believe how tiny this puppy was. He fit in the palm of Terry’s hand! We decided to call him Eippy, after our annual book awards for our authors.
Eippy totally won Terry over as soon as their eyes locked, as Shih Tzu always do. Eippy knew who he had to win over. Terry and Eippy are inseparable. He didn’t have to spin his magic spell on me—he had me at first bark!
Eippy is now 5-years old and a whopping 5 pounds. We celebrate our birthdays together each year on Feb. 3rd.
44 Eippy has taught us: • how precious—our love • how precious—our time • how precious—our life • how precious—our Eippy Eippy is a Best-Selling author. He runs the house, he runs us! We are a joyful family of three living full-time and happily in Old Mexico.
About the Author Viki Winterton is a 24-time #1 International Best-Selling Author, Awarding-Winning publisher, Founder of Expert Insights Publishing, PUBLISHED! magazine, the EIPPY Book Awards and Write Now! Broadcast.
Connect with Viki: ExpertInsightsPublishing.com
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46 Chapter 3 Rescue Reilly: The Covid-19 Super Dog by Hal Price & Rescue Reilly
By the time I had reached the age of four months, I had three different names, lived in four different towns, was a temporary guest in two different animal shelters and was separated from my mother and 4 siblings.
My name is Rescue Reilly, and this is my story:
BLUE LIGHT SPECIAL PUPS The bright blue flashing lights that surrounded me that brisk March night swirled hypnotically. The intermittent flickering cast dancing shadows on our make-shift home. The waking sky was slowly dimming the distant stars and the night air was still and silent...until we heard the abrupt slamming of a car door. My family watched in fear as an approaching large shadow moved continually closer to us with a bright light. The abrupt noise had quickly awakened me, my 3 brothers and my little sister. The flashing lights backlit an ominous figure that moved cautiously toward us. The giant shadow moved lightly as though it was afraid of us! As it got closer, I let out my first real bark that night as my brothers and sister huddled tightly near me inside the old box.
Since our birth three months ago, Mom had lovingly cared for us by herself. Unfortunately, we had all lived at different places each night in search of safe shelter and nearby food. We celebrated the day Mom discovered our new home. It was a large cardboard box labeled “Burritos
47
Grande” next to the local Taco Bell dumpster in Camarillo, CA. Mom’s plan was brilliant! In one move, she was able to keep the whole family together in a safe environment. Here, we would always know where our next meal would
48 come from. It had taken Mom over an hour to carefully carry each of us individually from our old street corner location to our new Taco Bell “palace”.
Mom was exhausted after moving all 5 of us and I didn’t blame her for leaving us here this night while she went for food. Unfortunately, she gave us no indication about how long she would be gone. Her long absence gave my tummy cause to start growling loudly, but not nearly as much as my lower throat was beginning to growl as I cautiously watched the ever-approaching giant shadow loom before us. In a flash, the giant pointed his blinding light right at ME! I froze and felt my furry tail hide from sight as it parked itself neatly between my hind legs!
The giant stood up and reached for a small black box attached to his left shoulder. He quickly pushed a button on the little box and said loudly, “Officer Jenkins here. I have a 10-91a at 1505 Flynn Road behind the Taco Bell. Over.” OVER??? What did he mean OVER??? What was OVER? What was happening? Where was Mom? What is a 10-91a and who is the giant? A new voice came back and asked, “How many strays and what is the approximate age?” Officer Jenkins said, “Not sure how many...but they are approximately 3-month-old mixed puppies huddled in one big box with no mother around. What should I do? Over.”
Oh, Lord! He said OVER again! Is it OVER for me and my family? I quickly thought, I may have to fight this giant to protect us all! Seconds later the black box blasted back, “Jenkins, it’s 6 AM, bring them to the station and we will take them to the shelter at 9 AM when they open. Over.” Jenkins replied, “I live near the shelter, I will take them with me and drop them off at 9 when my shift is finished. Over.”
49 Take us to a shelter? Who does he think he is...pulling us away from our new home? Maybe he secretly wanted our prime location next to the free food at Taco Bell! Suddenly, it dawned on me. Even though I was just a puppy, I was not going down without a fight. I started yelping for Mom but got no response. Then, the giant leaned down to inspect us and spoke in a kind and quiet tone. He said, “Hey puppies, I am Officer Jenkins, and I am going to take you to a place where you will be safe tonight.”
I tried to tell him that Mom was coming back, but he did not understand me. He just thought I was being fussy. He picked up my three brothers first and then went for my sister. She cowered into a tight little ball and easily surrendered as she looked fearfully at me. As she was whisked away, I gave her my best “little brother” bark to let her know that she was going to be okay and that I would not be far from her.
As the giant reached down to pick me up, I snarled and backed away. I yelped one last time for Mom but got no answer. I realized then that to care for and comfort my sister, I needed to give in, so I went willingly along with the large man. My little “Taco Bell family” was placed inside a giant metal machine with dark windows and it still had those darned bright blue lights swirling on top of it. Officer Jenkins turned off the lights and proceeded to carefully place a small cardboard box on the passenger side floorboard. He then pulled an old blanket from his backseat to make us a temporary bed for our big ride.
Once we were all tucked away, he reached into a paper bag and took out a big, round sweet-smelling treat that had a hole in it. He tore the treat into small pieces to share with me and my family. He must have liked me because he gave me two pieces and called me “SCRUFFY RUNT”. When he finished tearing the food into small pieces, I noticed that the hole in the middle was magically gone! Although he
50 may have eaten it while I wasn’t looking! The nice man then licked his fingers, rattled some keys out of his pants pocket and turned the one key that would make the big metal machine start up. Although we had no idea where we were going, we loved the bouncy midnight ride in the dark.
GIVE ME SHELTER After our 20-minute ride with Officer Jenkins, we reached our next destination. We watched the sun come up and waited for the doors to open to our next new home. We heard lots of barking. At 9AM, he carried us into a new place. Here, nearly all of the creatures looked like us and spoke our language (except for the strange ones who spoke in MEEE-OOW tones). The sign outside of the building said Ventura County Animal Services. We were greeted by excited dogs of all shapes and sizes. They each had their own bricked, outdoor caged condos. They loved having us there! We received a “21 bark salute” and were taken to a lady in a long white jacket.
One by one, she wrote down notes on a piece of paper and then took each of my family members to a big sink. My brothers went first and were each bathed in warm water, doused in a bubbly liquid, lathered up, rinsed down, dried off, deflead and carefully inspected. I had to laugh at how funny my brothers all looked before they were dried off.
They looked like a pack of cranky, shivering little rats with giant brown eyes. My sister and I were next in line. Once dried, we were inspected by the lady in the long white coat. Her badge said Dr. E. Britz, DMV (which I think stood for Dog Mother Volunteer). She used lights to look at my eyes, mouth, ears, and then weighed me. I was a whopping 5 pounds and 6 ounces. I was given some shots for God- knows-what I had, then given treatment reference numbers, and an Animal ID Number.
51 As I was leaving the vet’s office, she called all the people together and asked them to give me a name. I heard FLUFFY, SCRAPPY, NAPOLEON and then the youngest girl attendant said, “He looks like a JUSTIN”. So, just like that I went from being called SCRUFFY RUNT to JUSTIN! I got to watch as my sister went through the same treatments and the same young attendant who named me JUSTIN, called her SELENA.
Once we were cleaned, checked out, given shots, names and numbers, it was time to be assigned a special caged condo. They took Selena to her own caged condo three doors down from me. It was the first time since we were born on Thursday, December 12, 2019, that we were ever separated. I had a really hard time sleeping that first night. Many of the new guests were crying and barking.
I listened for Selena’s unique YELPING, but it was hard to hear her. Then, around 2 AM when the other dogs were fast asleep, I heard her crying. I told her that I was nearby and that I would be there for her. It must have given her some peace, because her last bark of the night said, “Good night JUSTIN!” The next morning, I got to see my family during Doggie Walk-Around. Each evening I told them good night as the lights were turned out. Selena and I created our very own secret dog bark to let each other know that we were alright and just around the corner.
A CHIP ON MY SHOULDER Four days after our arrival, people in white coats took me out of my caged condo and prepared me for something they called an “exam, inspection and chip insertion”. That morning I got my vaccinations for rabies, worms (yuck) and then, they put a tiny microchip in my left shoulder to help track me in case I ever got lost. It is the first thing that I ever owned that was only for me! Two days later, I also learned the hard way about something called
52 NEUTERING. All I remember about that day was I slept a very long time and when I woke up, I had less to lick! I later overheard my brothers bragging that we must have all been from a very long line of royal dogs because the humans took all the family jewels! I also learned more about me and my family that afternoon. Apparently, my mother was a beautiful Maltese Queen who had TWO husbands...one was named Terri and the other one named Poodle! That made me and my family Malti-Terri-Poos. Obviously, it was nature’s recipe for cuteness, smarts, and charm! The other thing that I learned from using my superhero hearing skills was that I was more special than most dogs because I had a heart that MURMURED. How cool is that? I had a heart that could whisper secrets to me that no one else could ever hear and I could sense people’s feelings as they walked up to me. My sister told me it was my SUPERPOWER! I was excited to put it to use as soon as possible.
HEART WHISPERS My murmuring heart was tested every minute at the Animal Shelter. Each day as a new animal was admitted, I welcomed them quietly with my heart as it murmured loving messages to them. I always tried to calm them down when they first arrived at our noisy and sometimes chaotic location. By day they were loved and cared for by the staff, but at night when the staff was gone and my new friends were all alone in their cage, I had my heart murmur to soothe them and bring them peace. One day, I overheard one of the attendants telling a customer that, “there are more than 200 million stray dogs worldwide and over 8 million of these animals enter one of these 14,000 shelters in the U.S. each year.”
My heart hurts for all of those lost, missing and unloved stray dogs like me and my family. It is tough here in the shelter. We are all loved and cared for beautifully by people
53 who are committed to helping us stay healthy, fed, walked and bathed, but in the end, we are each looking for that one person, couple, family or group to give us a true home and their affection. I see my brothers and sister for a few minutes at playtime every day, but we can’t hang out like we once did in the Burrito Grande box. I am sad that I never got to tell Mom goodbye or how much I loved her. I know her heart must be breaking that we were taken from our hideaway spot. On a happier note, I just heard the exciting news that my brothers were adopted! We are going to get together at lunchtime today to meet their new owner and give them a farewell party in the Dog Walk area. Someone said the adopting person is a friend of Officer Jenkins! How awesome is that?!?
CALLING WARM HEARTS After saying goodbye to my brothers on March 31, Selena, and I huddled together and promised that if we ever got separated, we would find each other. She asked me to use my Superhero Murmuring Heart to find someone to come rescue us. I sat in my caged condo every night quietly asking that a person with a big, kind heart find us. Then, 10 days later, a man named Tyrelle Leger walked into our shelter to rescue two puppies on behalf of 501(C)3 Foundation called, “Cold Noses, Warm Hearts.”
We later learned that Tyrelle had gotten involved in the rescue foundation because of a heart scare that he had 10 years earlier. Apparently, his heart was helped immensely when he adopted a beautiful black schnauzer named, “Buddy”. With Buddy now in his new life, Tyrelle began volunteering with the rescue foundation based in Goleta, California. The foundation business was housed in a 45-year-old pet grooming shop called, “The Little Dog House”. He so loved the mission and purpose of the shop and the rescue foundation, which he bought it in 2017.
54 To learn more about their efforts, go to: http://www.doggroomerssantabarbara.com THE COVID-19 GIFT In April 2020, my sister and I reached our final animal shelter courtesy of Tyrelle Leger. He took us to our new temporary home at The Little Dog House in Goleta. We received exceptional care, grooming, and medical support by their staff, but we still were not in our own home yet. As you can imagine, Selena became very good friends with her hairstylist and groomer, Ciera DeBortolli, and she asked Ciera how she and I could get the attention of potential new adopters. Ciera gave us both a beautiful makeover and took photos of us to put on their website for The Little Dog House. As fate would have it, on April 14, several potential adopters saw our photos online and called to see if we were still available. The first lady came in at 11AM and asked to see Selena. The lady’s name was Linda. She instantly fell in love with Selena. The bad news was she wanted a female dog and only had room for one dog in her house… (that excluded me). I sat in my shelter pen as I watched them fill out the adoption paperwork to take Selena home. We did not get to say goodbye to each other, but I used my little special bark that we created months ago to tell her I loved her and that everything was going to be alright. She barked back as the shop screen door closed and then, she was gone.
I decided then that I had to put my special HEART MURMUR signal out once more to invite a kind and caring person to come get me soon. I imagined being held, loved, jumping, running, dancing, playing and barking everyday with my new owner(s). I imagined that my owner would be as overjoyed to be with me as I would be with them. I held these feelings and images in my heart for an hour and then, they came walking in the store! They were housemates in the little town of Carpinteria, CA and saw the website with me and Selena. They asked to see Selena.
55 Sadly, Ciera told them that Selena had just been adopted an hour ago! The minute they heard this news I decided to tell them I was still here. I let out one bark from my cage and knew instantly that I belonged to them.
They had both been dog owners years ago and now that the Covid-19 confinement had begun, they wanted to find the joy of having a small puppy in their lives once more. The lady named Maggie picked me up first. She reminded me of my mother...warm, comforting, caring and small in stature but mighty in spirit. Once she picked me up, she never put me down. She just lovingly handed me to the man next to her. His name was Hal. He was funny, playful, with a big, sensitive heart and he LOVES to tell stories! (I learned later that Hal, like Tyrelle and me, had a heart scare years ago and he too had learned to listen to his heart. I also learned later that he is a children’s author and he started a company called, Heroic Hearts Media. He wanted someone like me to play and travel with him to go to schools to talk to kids about the power of stories and the magic of their hearts). I think Hal’s heart must have been listening to mine because before he left the store with me that day, he asked Ciera if she had the number to reach Selena’s owner Linda. He said he wanted to plan some “doggie play dates” in the future for the siblings. I have a feeling that we are going to stay in touch with each other just like I promised her I would from the day we were born.
As Hal and Maggie were leaving the shelter, I heard them discussing names for me. As they passed the auto repair store next door to The Little Dog House, Hal looked up and saw the name O’Reilly Auto Parts and said, “This dog is NOT A JUSTIN! Let’s name this little guy something a little more unique…How about RESCUE REILLY? Because today, we have all been RESCUED in some profound way!”
56 I love my new home and I’d like to thank Hal for taking the time to help me tell my Heart’s Story! Is there a magical RESCUE PET in your future? My heart hopes so! Follow us on www.RescueReilly.com & Facebook @RescueReilly
Photo by Stacy Bloodworth About the Author Hal Price is an 11-time International best-selling author and dog lover!
After serving as a career marketing and branding executive for The Coca-Cola Company, Hal retired early to begin his passion for writing and telling children’s bedtime stories that helped them learn to listen to the “whispers of their heart.”
His verse-in-chapter book called A Heart’s Journey Home won an International Mindfulness Award and is being used in Elementary Schools as a Social-Emotional Learning Curriculum. Hal’s latest book, The Bear Essentials promotes deeper, heartfelt conversations between children and their parents and is a very popular “Read Out Loud” Storybook on KidLit.TV.
57 Hal’s philanthropic efforts reach far and wide, especially through his charitable endeavors with the Teddy Bear Cancer Foundation, which help families in need navigate through pediatric cancer.
Hal serves on the Board of Directors of the Bestselling Authors International Organization (BAIO), is the 2019 “Ambassador of the Year” for the Carpinteria Chamber of Commerce and is the father of three purpose-driven children and three amazing and imaginative grandchildren.
Connect with Hal & Reilly: www.RescueReilly.com on Facebook “The Life of Reilly” and @RescueReilly.
Learn more about Hal’s Children’s Books at: www.EliBearStories.com
58 Chapter 4 My Four-Legged Hero by Madison Adams and Britney, the Dog
Ever since the day I was born, I was surrounded and protected by my furry, four-legged friends. I came into this world with my first dog, Barney. Then, five years later, I was blessed enough to meet my forever champion…
It was Christmas day of 2001, a day I’ll never forget. I had just finished opening up all my presents and was about ready to take a break to drink some eggnog. Suddenly I looked up and there was a baby black lab running through the front door. I rubbed my eyes and blinked a couple times and that puppy was jumping at my feet. I could not believe it. She was all mine, everything I had ever wanted in my entire five years on this Earth. I was going to be a puppy mom.
Now I knew, with mommy duties came naming your babies too. First, I picked the name Sara (not sure why I thought that would be a good dog name). So, I went back to the drawing board. Next, I thought of the name Princess. It was perfect. She would be just like me. Until my mom told me she didn’t want my dad yelling after ‘Princess’ in the yard. She could already imagine the weird looks they would be getting from the neighbors. So, I had to think even harder. Finally, it hit me. I would name her Britney. And yes, after Britney Spears. She was my favorite singer at the time. I couldn’t imagine it any other way. I had made my first adult decision in my short life, and I was unbelievably proud of it.
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60 I spent most of Christmas day running after Britney and cleaning up her pee every five minutes. I would have to take her outside, run with her, then I would have to feed her, then give her water. Once all that was done, I could come back in and play with my toys. My parents would tell me that Britney was MY dog and that I would have to take care of her all day long, which meant I probably wouldn’t have much time for playing. I stubbornly told them that I was grown up and completely able to do so.
Later that night I went upstairs to go to bed once I had FINALLY put Britney in her kennel to sleep. I got to the top stair and plopped down and started crying. My parents found me moments later and asked me why I was upset. I told them that they had to take Britney back and that I wasn’t able to take care of her all by myself. I had let everyone down. Mind you, I was only five years old at the time.
(Side note, my parents have told me to this day how horrible they felt for making it such a big deal. They were always going to help me with my new puppy, but they wanted me to understand what it meant to be responsible for something that I really wanted.) We all hugged it out and my parents said I could go to sleep and we would have a new day tomorrow. I had learned my first tough lesson in life. With big dreams, comes even bigger responsibility.
I spent the next five years loving my Britney girl so much. Every morning before school my mom would open my bedroom door to wake me up. Britney would quietly come into my room, hop up onto the bed, and snuggle with me. You could only imagine how much harder this made it to actually get me out of bed. She was a 60-pound dog full of warmth and love; she made me feel so safe. She would sit next to me as I brushed my hair and teeth, follow me down to the kitchen, and wait next to me while I ate my cereal (always sneaking her some, of course). Then, she would
61 see me to the bus stop and wait until I made it safely on board. I’d come home to her waiting patiently to walk me back from the bus to the kitchen table to do my homework. These were some of our sweetest times spent together.
As I grew older, I started to not like Britney so much. She would bother me and embarrass me when she would welcome my teenage friends and me home. She would follow us around the house when all we wanted was for her to leave us alone. I was too cool and too grown up to have a dumb dog by my side all day long. My friends would even make comments that she was annoying and asked me to shut the door so she wouldn’t come into the room where we were hanging out. I pretty much ignored MY Christmas gift from nearly 10 years ago, the puppy I wanted so much. This continued until I left for college.
I went to play soccer on a scholarship at the University of Montana, so there came a time where I’d have to give her my final goodbye. This would be the longest I’d ever go without seeing her. I didn’t feel much sadness because I was ready to embark on my new adventure that was way more important than her. Britney could wait.
A couple months into college, I suffered my second knee injury. (The first one was in high school and required surgery almost a year earlier.) This new injury would result in a second surgery. I would be coming home much sooner than expected to have my knee fixed for the second time.
This was a very devastating time for me as I had just recovered and returned to the soccer field a month before. I was emotional and alone. All my friends were off enjoying their college experiences while I was sitting at home glued to a couch unable to walk. No one was there to support me. Except Britney. She was there. Lying right by my side all day and all night, making sure I was doing okay.
62 As the month went on, Britney would help me with my therapy exercises, encouraging me each day when I wanted to give up. She walked next to me with my assisted crutches to make sure I wouldn’t fall. She slept with me to make sure I was breathing steadily while on pain pills. She did this for a month until it was time for me to fly back to school. She got me through one of my first college hurdles. Little did I know she’d help me get through much more.
That recovery took 15 months before I was able to return to the soccer field. When I had finally been cleared to play, it was our off season. I jumped into practices and about six weeks later ended up partially injuring my opposite knee. Ugh. I remember my mom sending me a picture of Britney wearing a bandana around her neck with my school’s mascot. She knew Britney would help me get through this one from afar. I wasn’t coming home this time. My surgeon said to take a couple months off and rest up for our season that was just four months away.
By God’s grace, I made it through those four months to see the field again. It was a roller coaster ride, as any injury is when returning to play. My first real game was approaching, and my emotions were all over the place. I was sitting in the locker room before the game and my mom sent me a picture of Britney as a puppy with a soccer ball at her paws. I immediately lit up. It brought back all the memories of growing up and playing soccer with Britney in the front yard. She was always the best defender, always reading my every move and stealing the ball away from me before I could get past her. I laughed as I remembered all the soccer balls she poked holes in with her teeth. I would get so sad because we could no longer play, but my dad would come home with a new one the next day and we were back to having the time of our human and puppy lives with each other.
63 I made it through my first game and was proud of coming that far. I was going to continue on with this no matter how hard it might become. My mom began to send that same picture of Britney as a puppy to me right before every game. It helped bring back the childlike joy that sport had brought me, all thanks to the memories of Britney being there every step of the way to help me live out my dreams of playing college soccer. She was the quickest way to bring a smile to my face.
The season was going well, my knees were holding up and I was starting to play at my best and gain my confidence back. Then, about 8 weeks later, tragedy struck. The knee I had partially injured earlier that year had finally gave way. My knee was done, and my season was over, just like that. I felt nothing but pure defeat in that moment. There wasn’t a thing or a person or a dog in the world that could fix this feeling. I had only been able to play in 16 games in the past three and a half years. Too many days spent preparing my body so that this exact thing wouldn’t happen, and it did. I couldn’t believe it.
At this point, I didn’t care to come home and see Britney; I was past her help. I would stay and have surgery in Montana and do this one on my own. I only had 9 months before my senior year season started. I didn’t have time for a stupid dog to get in the way of things. This was time for laser focus.
Nine months flew by and it was my first day of practice for my regular senior season, my first day back in the game again. Just when I expected it the least, I received that dang picture of Britney as a puppy with a soccer ball at her feet from my mom. I hadn’t seen that picture or even cared to see it for the past 10 months since that last game day. One glimpse of it and I could smell the roses again. I was ready for this season.
64 Ten pictures of Britney as a puppy with a soccer ball at her feet for the next 10 days, and the moment finally came. Each day started with the joy of childhood memories playing soccer with Britney, remembering why I had gone through everything I had for this game… and having that finally be enough. Knowing that I could live with those beautiful memories, I finally made the decision to step away from the game.
My knees weren’t able to keep up with the sport anymore. Constant pain and swelling from all the injuries were not allowing me to participate the way I wanted to. And for the first time in my life, I was at peace with knowing some of my best memories of this game were spent in my front yard with my favorite Christmas gift of all time, Britney.
Medically, retiring was peaceful in my heart, but it didn’t stop the sadness of closing a chapter in my life that I hoped would be my entire future. Now that I was done with a sport that ruled the last 18 years of my life, I wasn’t sure what to do.
It wasn’t easy watching my team go on to play without me. It wasn’t easy not going to practice every single day with my best friends playing the best sport in the world. I had to start filling my time with new friends who had other hobbies. I could finally live a normal college kid’s life that didn’t involve an insane practice schedule. But guess what that consisted of? Lots of parties and lots of bars.
I spent most days after class heading to my best guy friend’s house and playing drinking games until it was an acceptable hour to hit the bar. Each day of the week was another reason to drink. Mondays were days that started off the week… time to drink. Tuesdays were two for ones at the bars, time to drink… you know how the rest goes.
65 This continued on for months. It was my final semester of college, so I wanted to celebrate. I didn’t realize I was failing all six of my classes going into finals week. I had to buy a bottle of wine each night to convince myself to study to pass these tests. Somehow, I pulled good enough grades on my finals to pass my classes and graduate. But now what?
I went home for the holidays and enjoyed the company of my extended family and friends that I never had the time to enjoy the past couple years. We spent most of our time together over drinks and raising our glasses to new adventures. I never gave Britney any attention. But she definitely wasn’t the puppy she used to be. She wasn’t eating much, and she was getting weak. She developed cysts all over her body. One night she started throwing up blood. My mom told my sister and I to say goodbye to her because they were going to take her to the vet and weren’t sure she was going to make it back with them.
I looked at them and told them she was going to be fine, gave Britney a kiss and walked away. I woke up the next morning and there she was, laying outside my door waiting for me to wake up. I knew she was going to be okay; it wasn’t her time yet.
I returned to Montana to work for a couple more months since my house lease wasn’t up. I continued on this path of wasting away most of my time partying. I had a lot of fun but also had a lot of moments I’m not too proud of. I eventually moved back home to my parents’ house in Seattle, reunited with Britney once again. Now needing more help than ever for my next journey: finding a real job and becoming an adult.
I ended up getting a sales job with a wine and spirits company, which I was beyond ecstatic about. I would get to sell product that I also use and enjoy every single day.
66 Perfect! This job added to the amount that I would party, but something was beginning to change. I was becoming emotional and acting out every time I would consume alcohol. It was getting out of control and I wasn’t doing anything to get better.
One night I came home late from the bar and saw Britney laying there waiting up for me as best she could, tired as ever and so old and worn out. I got down on the ground and laid with her for the first time in roughly 8 years and started crying.
I looked into her eyes asking her to help me. Telling her that I had no idea who I was anymore and that I wanted to be that little kid playing in the front yard with her again. She put her paw on me and laid with me until I cried myself to sleep. She was still there the minute I opened my eyes, telling me she loved me and that it was going to be okay.
I immediately took her out to the front yard and grabbed an old soccer ball from the bushes, this was the first time I would even pick one up since I’d retired almost two years earlier. I dropped it on the ground in front of her and you could see the same puppy eyes brighten up. I moved slowly, trying to get past her like I always used to, except that she wasn’t able to move so good anymore.
Nonetheless, she gave it everything she had with the biggest smile on her face. You could only imagine how much bigger my smile was. I had felt pure bliss for the first time in many years. And, of course, my Britney girl was right there to bring back the old me.
A couple months went by and I spent each day giving my puppy some of the best loves and kisses that I could. She was getting so old she couldn’t walk much or hear or see that well. But she was hanging on to be with us for as long as possible.
67 The dreaded day had finally come where we had to put her down. I came home from work and put her on her leash to take her on one last walk. She would only make it about 20 yards before her poor legs gave out. So, we put her in the car and took her to the vet where they asked us to stay with her as they prepared everything. I laid next to her like she always did for me when I was going through hard times in my life. Feeling her velvet ears for the last time. Telling her it was going to be okay, looking into her eyes and letting her know I loved her more than I could love anything. Thanking her for never leaving my side and loving me unconditionally.
I did this until I watched her take her last breath. She was finally at peace. I did not want to leave my favorite pup laying there alone but I knew I had to go. I gave her one last kiss and watched her angel wings take her to puppy heaven.
She lived 17 and a half years as one of the happiest and most unconditional black labs ever. I think she taught me more lessons than anyone ever could. No matter how many times I ignored her or took my anger out on her, she was always there waiting for me to come back.
Maybe we can learn something from our four-legged heroes. Maybe we just need to smile and find joy in each day. Maybe we need to care for others so deeply and so purely that we can get through anything together. Maybe all we need to do is love and be loved. I’m convinced that heroes no longer wear capes. Instead, they have lots of fur, four legs, and infinite love to give.
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69 About the Author Madison Adams is a Restaurant Consultant by day, a Marketing Assistant for a media company during her free time, an ‘intern for life’ by night, and an aspiring author when the chance arises.
She loves to learn new things and acquire new skills and connections as often as possible. She enjoys growth opportunities by sharing vulnerability with others as well as enjoying a nice glass of wine for casual chats with friends. She goes into each day head on ready to see what the future has in store for her. She would love to connect with you and hear your story.
Connect with Madison: https://www.linkedin.com/in/madisonadams5/
70 Chapter 5 Doggy Divorce by Dr. Marni Hill Foderaro and Bogey
A note from the author:
Hello fellow pet-loving humans! I am an animal lover and instilled the love of all living creatures to my two human children. I am a regular supporter to a number of animal welfare non-profits including: Animal Aid in Udaipur, Rajasthan, India; Hope for Paws in Los Angeles, California, USA; and Takis Shelter in Lerapetra, Crete, Greece. I do not have and have never owned a dog; however, I am Aunt Marni to my brother and sister-in-law’s Australian Shepherd rescue Bella and was the loving dog-toy-supplier for their Angel Aussies in Heaven: Wanabe, Hoosier and Ceydee. I am choosing to tell a true tale (tail) from a dog’s point of view about a topic that is not often addressed: Divorce and Parental Alienation. This is a real story. It is not my story, but it’s my honor to tell it and bring awareness to how both positive and negative human actions impact a dog’s life.
Without further a-doodle, here’s the tail:
Bogey here. I am a sheapoo: half shih tzu and half poodle. I am not a purebred. My life with my fur-amily in Royers- furr-d, Pennsylvania was muttering along great fur almost a decade, which is about 70 years in doggy year calculations, until my human parents got divorced. I found myself in the middle of a pup-ternity and mutt-ernity suit. I guess terrier-able Parental Alienation extends to us neuter-al furry pooch fur-amily members too. 71
You see, one day my alpha parent, my corgi-ous pup-town girl mom, who was my loving and loyal dog owner my entire life, was suddenly gone. That was the fur-st time I knew life would ne-fur be the same and couldn’t be fixed. She was a wonder-fur-al parent who was all-wags there providing structure, guide-dog-ance, fun and unconditional love to my four, I mean fur, human siblings and me. After eight years, my mutt-her was ordered by a Montgomery County dis-honorable judge to move out and ne-fur come back and return to our home; she was wrongly fur-ced to leave her children behind, which meant she had to leave me too. After that, my life was ne-fur the same. Dad was my new boss and he was ruff-less. I didn’t even know him that well because all of these years he was gone most of the time at one of his many out-of-town ruffing paw-fices. Now that dad was my new master, I ne-fur had to stick to the rules. When dad was home, he spent a lot of time at our fur-amily’s tiki bar behind the house while I had the run of the backyard. I loved the fur-eedom, but I sure missed my mutt-her. I could not understand why she had to leave and would not be in my fur-ture.
There were many times mom would scratch on the door to try and see us, dropping off birthday and holiday gifts, photo posters, cards and bones, but dad would ne-fur answer the door and told my siblings to hide, stay, and sit
72 inside and not let her know we were at home. I wagged my tail and got so excited when eventually dad would open the door because I thought I could see mom, but it was just to get the gifts and cards and throw them away be-fur my brothers and sister saw them. A fur times I would be in the yard when mom would come by, but I had an invisible fence and got shocked by my neck control when I tried to run to her. When-e-fur my mom would collie us up, dad wouldn’t answer the phone. She al-wags wanted her children to collar, but they ne-fur reached out. I was so con-fur-sed when dad would lie to us and tell us that mom was a bad dog, I mean person, and didn’t love us anymore, because I knew that wasn’t true. This made me melan- collie. He would say this again and again over the years, make up lies, smear her name to fur-riends, fur-amily, neighbors and their litters, and implant false memories so that my siblings would believe him. It didn’t make sense how my fur young human siblings would play along with something so wrong, but they did. Dogs are loyal to their owners, even owners who mistreat them, so I guess this happens to alienated kids too. It makes me whine and howl with hurt.
This treat-ment of mom seemed fur-fetched and im-paws- ible, but I learned that my dad had his own childhood traumas and deep-rooted challenges that led to his anger, control and revenge issues; he was an undiagnosed malignant narcissist and what our fur-amily was dealing with was called Parental Alienation. Parental Alienation is a worldwide epidemic that des-toys families. This happens in a divorce situation where the parent manipulates and lies to the kids about their other purr-fur-ed loving parent, causing the kids to be fearful, disrespectful and estranged, while the alienating parent uses the kids to cause emotional pain as punishment to the targeted parent who escaped the abuse. Well, let me bark it loud and clear here: Parental Alienation affects pets too.
73 Let me lead you to my backstory. My parents adopted me as a Christmas surprise from Santa Claws fur their four, I mean fur, young children and our fur-amily pack. They drove their Shitzu-bishi hours dachshund through the snow to the boarder of mutt-ropolitan New Yorkie to retrieve me on that memorable snowy Christmas Eve. My mom snuggled with me in the basement all night to help me adjust to my new pad and keep me hush puppy quiet fur the big reveal Christmas morning. I was their chosen breed because sheapoos don’t shed or cause allergies. I was the cutest little fur ball, weighing in at only one and a half pounds!
That is why they had to wait eight weeks to adopt me. I was paw-some and so small that I could fit in the paw-lm of my mom’s hand! When the fur kids fetched me in the basement Christmas morning and excitedly barked “fleas- navidad,” my new siblings were panting and going-mutts with excitement. It was then that the bone-e-fide fun began! They took so many pictures of me, I thought they were the doggy pup-arazzi! There were al-wags wonder- fur-al smells because every Christmas mom would have cinnamon boiling in a pot on the stove and the festive aroma filled the air. My siblings loved mom’s chewy monkey bread and Belgium woof-les, which she would make be-fur we all would come downstairs fur breakfast; I could ne-fur figure out why she didn’t make doggy bread instead. The kids played more with me than their squeaky toys. We loved this howl-iday and we surely decked the paws as we celebrated the birth of Christ and worshipped God, the shepherds, the sheep dogs and angels.
Christmas was such a special time fur our fur-amily. Our fur-amily’s grandma Oma’s birthday was on Christmas Eve. We went to Oma and Oda’s house to have treats be- fur the humans left fur their traditions of dinner at Maggianos, church service and then back to the house to open up gifts. Present opening time on Christmas Eve was
74 like a game of round robin: Each child would open up one gift at a time from Oma and Oda; then they would open up a second gift; then a third, and so on. My siblings were showered and bathed with material things, but the most meaning-fur-al presents were the handmade quilts that Oma show-ed us and made fur ev-furry-one, as that was our grand-mutt-er’s big award-winning hobby. She even made me a quilt, though she was much fonder of human grandchildren than any pet! I had a dog’s eye view of what was happening. It was a shame that after the divorce, these fur-amily heirlooms were not valued by my dad and siblings and that they were all thrown away or left behind. It was shocking to know that my fur-amily could-runt care less about the real important things in life. Because of Parental Alienation, my human siblings did not even attend Oma and Oda’s funerals when they died and went to Heaven.
I’ll al-wags remember my fur-vorite Christmas tradition. I got to run around outside at Varner’s Tree Farm when my fur-amily would cut down their Christmas fur tree. I had to be careful to move out of the way when they all yelled, “timber!” They would sing Christmas carols and lap up apple cider. Mom al-wags had at least five furry tall Christmas trees in the house, all decorated with thousands of heirloom ornaments from Germany. My fur-vorite tree was the painted seashell tree because those ornaments were homemade from shells my siblings collected from the beach and panted with their own bare paws. I remember seeing German nutcrackers and gingerbread houses everywhere and wishing they were dog toys.
Life in the keystone state was paw-i-dise. As a puppy, I thought there was only Winter, because that was the season I was born and I didn’t yet know that there were fur beautiful seasonal changes on earth. I enjoyed playing in the freshly fallen snow, even though I was a cold and chili dog. Al-wags fond of curling up with my human
75 siblings, we snuggled around the fur-iplace as the kids lapped up hot chocolate and played board games like Chutes and Ladders, Monopoly and Jenga. My pack would al-wags dress me in a fashionable UGG jacket so I could run around and play outside without fur-eezing. This season was biting cold and I felt like I was an eskimo in Newfoundland. They al-wags had to keep an eye on me because I was so small and miniature, not like a great dane or st. bernard, and could sink down in the snow and get lost, as if I had dug a hole to retrieve a bone. I spent a lot of time nipping and napping so I didn’t realize that my siblings were gone at obedience training, I mean school, and at their travel basketball leagues a great deal of the time. When they got home, we played fetch, then we would come in and watch some great TV shows like: The Dog Whisperer, Cesar 911, Pitbulls and Parolees and Old Huckleberry Hound. My siblings would tell me that when they were little they would watch Blues Clues, Clifford and Lassie reruns. On the weekends, we would watch Here’s Boomer, Underdog and Scooby Doo; I loved Scrappy.
I couldn’t imagine a more purr-fect tail-wagging life, but then Spring rolled around and even when it was raining cats and dogs and I got wet stepping in poodles, my entire world opened up. I experienced the outdoors like I had ne- fur known. I enjoyed so many sights and smells on my daily walks. There were dog neighbors and canine companions I ne-fur knew lived so close to me. There were hounds, terriers, boxers, pugs, bull dogs, English setters, Australian shepherds, pomeranians and even a lhasa apso; some of my dog fur-iends were rescues from the pound because the veterinarians or vet techs couldn’t find a chip. Sometimes we all purr-ticipated in a “barking chain” mew- sicle vocal choir, like in the movie 101 Dalmatians. I was glad fur my dog fur-iends because my siblings were gone at school during the day fur hours at a time. I loved sniffing the mountain laurel, our state’s flower, but not more than sniffing my doggy friends’ butts and each tree trunk and
76 fire hydrant on my walks. I was ne-fur allowed to mush to the movie theatre or eat pup-corn, but when the kids rented movies to watch at home, we would have pup-eroni pizza and I got to enjoy so many fur-avorite movies: Marley & Me, Air Bud, Milo & Otis, White Fang, Beethoven, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Isle of Dogs, Benji, Fox & Hound and Lady and the Tramp. I didn’t like Cujo or K-9 because those movies were scary. My siblings really liked Harry Paw-ter, Wizard of Paws and Pup-Fiction and would finish each movie with a round of ap-paws. My mom let us play a lot, but she also made sure that we all had a good education and training, which included reading a lot of lick- erature and doing math; I loved division and mutt- iplication. Sometimes I could hang out and play near the lacrosse fields, but I al-wags wished my siblings would throw me the ball. Both of my parents’ birthdays were in March, but we mainly focused on dad’s celebration, since he was the partier. Mom usually spent her birthday in the garden. I had to stay behind the fence and was ne-fur allowed to dig in the dirt with her.
The dog days of Summer was the next season and I loved chasing tails, hanging around and sniffing out in the yard with my three re-bark-able brothers and one sister as we all ran through the sprinklers. The cool, flowing water was so refur-eshing on my fur during those hot days and I had a ball. We would have ice cream parties with so many dif- fur-ent flavors and toppings. My mutt-her would smash up candy bars, m-n-ms, and pretzels to put on top. Mom was al-wags concerned that we were eating healthy, so treats and pup-cicles were al-wags served with fresh organic fruit and veggies. I got treats too, so I didn’t even have to beg. I ne-fur got to tag along to the huge fur-amily reunions and bark-beques when they would leash a house at Stone Harbor on the Jersey Shore, but I do remember our amazing trip to North Carolina. The greyhound bus would pick us up in the barking lot and take us to the beach because the jeep couldn’t carry ev-furry-one and our stuff.
77 We hung out in a pup-up tent, chased frisbees and al-wags had coolers of punch fur the humans; I would sniff their drinks because I was only allowed to lap up water. Only one of my siblings had his birthday in Summer; the other three had Fall/Winter birthdays. One time all of us got lice. It was a nightmare fur my mom who al-wags made sure that I was groomed, vet-checked and up-to-date with my tags and labs. She had to give me a dog bath to wash and scrub ev-furry-thing, including my paw prints! We did, howl-e-fur, make it to the water’s edge. There was nothing like sand between my toes and the feel of cool, salty ocean water on my paws. I would chase the kids and splash in the waves. My mom would walk me three times a day and I would ne-fur stray! It was the ulti-mutt fun and such bark-worthy times.
Autumn was a bittersweet time fur my canine counter- parks and me, but I al-wags looked on the pup-side. Fall was going-back-to-school season fur my siblings. It was a very busy time with mutt-her taking my siblings to the store to purr-chase their school supplies. We would al- wags swing by the pet store fur me to pick out a toy. Oma would off-fur to pay fur the school supplies, but each child had to follow the recommended teacher-required sheet of all the items needed fur each of their classrooms. The only time I saw mom get mad was when my oldest brother re- fur-sed to pack up his supplies because dad said he didn’t have to follow the teacher’s rules, even though his grade would start off 40 points behind. Mom tried to explain claws and effect to my brother. Dad was al-wags undermining mom and not respecting structure and discipline. Well, one time I got so scared because mom pushed all of the school supplies off the center kitchen island to show how upset she was. Fur-tunately, that was the only time I felt like a scaredy-cat and not a dog.
I loved when we carved pup-kins when it was Howl-o- ween. Dad would wear a frightening orange mask, a big o-
78 fur-coat and would often lose his distemper. Fur most of October, my brothers and sister would leave ev-furry morning and not come back until the afternoon. Many times they would come home after training school, just long enough to change clothes and go back out. Sometimes they would take me with them to these after school events where there were so many other kids and parents. A lot of dogs had both parents with them, but even though I only had my mom, we al-wags had a ball. My mom did ev-furry-thing with us. She was a great trainer and my learning how to a be a good dog was the leash I could do. It took me a while to understand why I was restrained with a collar and leash and couldn’t chase the lacrosse balls, play catch with the footballs or dog run the bases with the kids. The ruff-erees with their husky voices didn’t like me running loose on the fields. Weekends were my reward fur being so good because it was then we all would play fetch with the chewy toys in the yard and I could jump up into the crisp and colorful fallen leaves. I loved when my siblings sang the paw-tactic song “Do Your Ears Hang Low” even though I only had little ears. Also after many weeks, I knew that dad would come home fur a weekend and all my rules would be ignored and I could let the free-peeing, howl-arious party life begin again.
I faithfully followed my mom ev-furry-where, especially when she was cooking in the kitchen. She al-wags had to be careful not to step on me as I was only 11 pounds as an adult. My mom al-wags fed me great dog chow, and because she believed in health and homeopathic ways, our mutt-iculous diets al-wags included grass-fed meats, fur- ree-range eggs and organic fur-uits and vegetables. My dad was gone fur the majority of my life. He would go away to work in his paw-fice fur six weeks and just come home fur a weekend be-fur leaving again. I missed greeting mom with sloppy kisses, a wet nose and drool. This was our lives, so we all just realized that mom would be our main owner. Yap, she was pup-tacular. She loved us all so much
79 and made sure that we had a happy life with ev-furry-thing that we needed to paws-purr. She was so organized too. She would get up early at six in the morning and exercise be-fur cooking breakfast fur each of us. I loved eating kibbles chow with beagles and cream cheese, and I had a fur-ocious appetite. One by one each child would open the gate and come down the stairs to eat. I was usually on my mom’s right heel waiting fur the human food treats she would al-wags give me. After breakfast, she made each child’s lunch and took extra time to write each one a loving, paw-some note on their napkin be-fur folding it up and putting it in the lunch boxes. Let me give you a few pointers: al-wags stay near your dog bowl when food is being prepared because of the op-paw-tunities to get treats. I stuck around when she made lunches too, as it meant extra treats fur me to lick. Bone-a-pet-treat! When my siblings left fur school, my mom and I would walk them to the bridge where they played red rover. I was a watch dog as I saw them enter the school’s fenced yard. When mom and I returned home, I jumped up on the fur-niture near the big picture window and tilted my head to see all of the other students walk by. After that I took a doggy nap in my room, which was really the mud-room with lockers and my own little tub to clean up my paw-prints.
When my fur-ther would come home, he would whistle to me. He usually left the front double doors open so that I could come and go as I pleased; we didn’t have a doggy door. You have cat to be kitten me! I would think when I was let free. My pack would howl and raise the woof. Our fun was ne-fur cur-tailed. From Wednesday through Sunday, we had continuous neighborhood parties at the backyard tiki bar. Mom ended up cleaning up the messes because dad usually passed out. I was very paw-ty too because I didn’t have to follow commands. Was this fun? Paw-yeah, it was fur-sure an ulti-mutt time. This dog got to learn new tricks. The organized routine we followed and ev-furry-thing I learned in obedience school was thrown
80 out the window. I know it fur-ustrated mom and confused the kids, but I loved it. The best part about it was that I was fur-ree to go mutts, have accidents and pee where-e- fur I wanted! I drooled and soiled the carpets, the fur- niture and fur-abric and even the walls. I remember one of my siblings even pooped doggy doo over at a fur-iends house and dad didn’t care. I’m sure my brother learned that behavior from me! If mom were there, we would have all been in the dog house. No pooper scooper then. My blankets and toys all smelled, which didn’t bother me, but bothered my mom. She went around the house barking from the woof-tops and chased me with a squirt bottle filled with cleaner, scooping up poop to keep things sanitary. I have to admit that times were very confusing and I had difficulty obeying two very different masters and commander-in-chiefs. Now my mom was gone fur-ever, which still beagles my mind. It’s hard to imagine my fur- ture without her.
Nobody is paw-fect and my dad did some faux-paws when he stopped taking care of me. He would lose his patience and bark at everyone when he drank too much. His barking was ear-piercing because of the constant craziness with loud music and herds of people everywhere. I wanted him to play fetch with me, but instead he spent a lot of time playing gambling games, whether it was $500 on a neighborhood ring or much more with bookies on sports bets. I became shaggy, ne-fur went fur grooming or clipping at the vet, was often kept in a kennel or cage and was infested with ticks. Dad had stopped paying the mortgage and insurance on our house and paid cash fur a mansion in the fancy River Club Estates Golf Community in Bradenton, Florida. Dad rewrote documents putting mom’s name on his debts, where close to a million dollars of liens were put on our fur-amily home so that it went into fur- closure. He ne-fur paid taxes, so taking me to the vet fur de-worming was not a priority. What if he changed my lab reports and I was given the wrong care? That would have
81 been paw-ty bad. He was punishing mom fur divorcing him. He also made sure that my fur siblings flea-d out of state without our mom even knowing. He moved his own matriarch mutt-her, our grand-mutter Marguerite with him, but had no interest in moving me, the fur-amily dog. It’s like my dad went ov-fur to the bark side. Wait a minute! Aren’t dogs considered “man’s best friend” and should be treat-ed like a fur-amily member and stick together? How could they make a mastiff move to Florida and not take me with? What-e-fur! Well, I guess I understand now that I’ve had time to paws and reflect. It was mom who was the most loving person and caring master in the world, even though dad treated her so ruff and paw-ful.
In divorces, the law doesn’t usually look at dogs or pets as living souls, which should be a bone of contention. It’s hair- able, but very common fur animals to be re-homed or relinquished or if they are lucky, there is a pooch prenup where dogs aren’t just treated like property. It’s a dog-eat- dog world. My dad was mad at my mom fur leaving, so he wanted to take away what meant the most to her, and that was her beautiful children. I know I meant a lot to her as well, so I was used as a paw-n too. Mom was fur-ced to leave and ended up homeless and living out of her car. That wouldn’t have been a good place fur me, so I stay-ed at our house. When the kids got older and dad planned to move away from Pennsylvania to Florida, I was given away to a shelter.
At the shelter, I fur-st contracted kennel cough. I’m so glad I didn’t get rabies. However, after I was abandoned there, I got the doggy disease canine distemper along with Parvo and sadly died. I was hoping some-paw-dy would help me find my mom; she was the corgi to my heart. I shitzu-not though, it’s true that “All Dogs Go To Heaven.” I now visit my mom in her dreams and send her signs to let her know I love her. Parental Alienation of kids and pets is a-paw-
82 ling. Kids and pets should have both mutt-ers and fur-thers in their lives and the courts shouldn’t disrupt families and the bonds between parents and their children. My mom had a very ruff time but didn’t roll over or get barking mad when dad would dog-grade her and put her in such stressful paws-itions. He wanted her gone, but she didn’t play dead. Mom handled this devastation with grace and fur-gave dad, after all, he was the fur-ther of their four...I mean fur beautiful children and the Bible says to “Honor Thy Mother and Father.” She al-wags tried to stay paws- ative, because she believed that goodness, honesty and love would conquer all. Mom believes that Love Dominates and that people should choose love over hate and compassion over judgment in all that they do.
Thank you furry mush fur reading my long, furry and heartworm-ing story. Embrace your inner dog, paw-under be-fur you dog run and don’t stop retrieving! Every dog has its day and all dogs really do go to Heaven. I wish you all many happy tails and that you all reach your pet-entail in life. In closing, as an animal lover, I was honored to tell Bogey’s tail. Doggy Divorce and Parental or pooch Alienation is abuse; please remember to treat your children and pets with love and kindness‒ al-wags. Fur-well from a furry friend, Bogey and me.
83 About the Author
Dr. Marni Hill Foderaro is an award-winning educator and celebrated author. She earned her doctorate in education and completed postdoctoral studies at Harvard after a very successful and rewarding 35-year career as a high school special education teacher. Marni is a lover of animals, nature, music and world travel. She values honesty, integrity, equality, goodness and prays for peace on earth.
She was born in the South, raised her children in the Midwest, and has made the Caribbean her home. Inspired by hundreds of true accounts, Marni’s critically acclaimed Spiritual fiction God Came To My Garage Sale, about a questioning Atheist woman who experiences numerous Spiritually transformative encounters, has received praise from prominent endorsers, including James Redfield, best- selling author of “The Celestine Prophecy” series of books. Additional praise comes from renown psychic mediums Thomas John, Lisa Williams, Dr. Michelle “Motherella” Piper and Christopher Stillar, along with founding directors of IANDS (International Association for Near Death Studies): Santa Barbara’s Barbara Bartolome and Chicago’s Diane Willis.
Marni’s timely message encourages all to be open to Spiritual signs and to live in the present with mindfulness, peace, love and light because “the veil is thinning” and people around the world are more open to God and the possibility of the Afterlife. In addition to her own writing endeavors and speaking engagements on embracing Spirituality after surviving Domestic Abuse, Marni is a contributing author to numerous anthology books, including: bLU Talks (2nd edition) Business, Life and the Universe, The Last Breath, The Evolution of Echo and The UltiMUTT Book for Dog Lovers. http://godcametomygaragesale.com
84 Chapter 6 Do Rescue Dogs Suffer from Undiagnosed PSTD? by Barbara Longué, David Adelson and Cleo
Do rescue dogs suffer from undiagnosed PTSD?
It’s a very common saying that rescue dogs rescue the people who rescue them as often as they themselves are rescued.
But what if the rescue dogs still had remaining PTSD-like symptoms, even if they were totally and completely loved by their new family and show no signs of distress? What if the symptoms were almost invisible to the human eye but left an undiagnosed trauma in the pet?
I’ve grown up with dogs my whole life and I’ve seen firsthand the trauma that ensues when a rescue dog isn’t able to complete his life’s story.
Some of my earliest memories were of my dog, McDuff. McDuff looked like Lassie so this was a great thing! Beautiful long silky hair and a pointy nose and he loved running around and getting big cuddles as I would throw my 4-year-old arms around his neck, ever so proud that we had our own Lassie at home.
On Palm Sunday when I was 4-years-old, that pride turned into pain. McDuff, the untrained rescue dog, burst out through the downstairs door as my brothers and I, all 5 of us dressed our Sunday best went inside after attending
85
Palm Sunday mass. I remember it was Palm Sunday because I had fronds in my hand. McDuff burst past us and raced right into the street where our neighbor’s car ran him over.
86 I still remember my father picking up his nearly lifeless body and as he brushed past the basement door, streaks of red blood remain etched in my mind.
Dog training was not my parents’ specialty and it led to loss of my dog’s life because he wasn’t trained. Heck, I was one of 5 children at the time and just keeping us all fed and clothed was a lot for my parents to manage!
A string of beautiful rescue dogs followed my childhood and when I was married with 2 children, I mentioned to my then husband that it would be a great time to get a dog. As we had always adopted dogs from the shelter, I couldn’t imagine getting a dog any other way.
When we were finally able to convince my husband that a dog was a beautiful thing for the family and went to the nearest shelter in Teterboro NJ, we saw a beautiful black Labrador who clearly wanted to come home with us. When we inquired about taking him home, the shelter said, “No, this dog shouldn’t be in a home with young children.” This surprised me as I couldn’t imagine a black lab puppy of approximately 10 months not liking children. And while he was jumpy as we took him for a test walk, he seemed fine around the kids and the shelter agreed to let us take home our new friend, Milou.
We ne-fur learned what trauma Milou had suffered before he was relocated to the shelter from the street, but he was always a “strange” dog. And he definitely didn’t like children. He loved my children. But other people’s children, not so much.
We all went to dog training classes and we hired personal dog trainers. Yet they all believed that whatever happened before the adoption would forever leave a mark on this dog’s behavior. We were told that “He could be controlled
87 but he would probably always be ‘strange’.” And strange he remained.
The strangeness manifested in numerous ways: anxiety if we were leaving the house, fear of strangers, which could turn into aggression to protect us from whatever he believed could be threat. In fact, it was very handy when the unsolicited sales reps from whatever company came by but it was less welcome when we had guests in the house. Milou would need to be relegated to his crate to avoid the vicious barks and snarling teeth.
My daughter, who later became a veterinarian, was always the closest to Milou and he protected everyone in the family from any perceived threats. Having a protector dog wasn’t the worst thing as long as we could keep his teeth away from any strangers’ hands. But it wasn’t the best scenario for the dog. He clearly suffered from wanting so badly to protect us.
Milou was loved totally and deeply by the entire family and to this day, I wish I had known that there could have been a healing process to help resolve the remaining issues that occurred before his adoption.
It wasn’t until a few months ago that David Adelson mentioned to me that he had developed a whole series of quantum energy programs for both humans and pets that I realized what an amazing gift this is for every owner of a rescue dog.
As the co-founder of a meditation center in the middle of Tasmania in Australia, I truly believe that one of the greatest ways to open up human hearts is through their pets. Sometimes we open up our hearts to our dog friends before we do our fellow humans.
88 I have experienced firsthand how amazing David’s silent quantum energetic programs are for humans, but I had never really considered what they could do for dogs.
The following text come from an interview I did recently with David Adelson.
David explained to me that healing the innate nature of the damage whether it’s visible from the outside or not very visible is much like PTSD in humans, which doesn’t always show itself, but the underlying trauma is still there.
Barbara: David, when did you come up with this idea that rescue pets were still suffering from trauma even when you can't see it? When did that thought first come to you?
David: I want to say six or seven years ago. It's something that we've been aware of for some time. The main work that I've done so far has been with people, but a lot of the people noticed that their pets were just hanging out in front of them all the time while they were viewing the programs.
For example, when clients would put on the video of the quantum “Love” program, their dogs just curled up in front of the TV all day while it played. I mean, all day they would just hang out in front of where the quantum programs were playing.
Then one day we were walking, and I just noticed that rescue dogs had something different than other dogs. If you went to the pet store, dogs had a liveliness, and a cheerfulness and they weren't traumatized by the world yet. Rescue dogs often seem to have a dullness or a heaviness as if they've been beaten up a little bit and are shy to present fully who they are in the world. This is PTSD behavior, often seen in soldiers or anybody who's suffered abusive relationships growing up.
89 These are dogs who feel fearful even when they’re not showing direct symptoms. They just don't feel safe in the world, and they often don't feel free to express the totality of who they are. The suffering is not always visible. Humans might present themselves at a party, appearing to have a lot of fun but there's often something hidden; sadness or anger. Rescue dogs can be the same way.
The real key here is that we don't really want people to suffer or animals to suffer or anybody to suffer.
We just start from the quantum or unified field level to bring in love and healing energy to shift whatever it is that is driving their PTSD feelings. We want to do it in the most painless and comfortable way.
So, for instance, if somebody gets a big splinter in their finger, you get tweezers and yank it out and that can be very painful. But you can also soak the finger for a while and if the person will let that happen, and then the splinter can come out significantly easier. And so we want that aspect of the quantum field or the unified field to allow for the softening and ideally for even the dissolving of the splinter. The same is true for dogs.
I have definitely noticed that rescue dogs come with a history attached to them, and the quantum and unified field energies help ease the emotional traumas that the pets have gone through before they were adopted.
Dogs are amazingly resilient and incredibly accepting. They are great champions to their owners. They are great supporters. You know, if you're not feeling well, they do what they can to help uplift you. It's like having your own little cheering section all the time.
90 When you're alone they make a huge difference. I’ve heard the same thing over and over again, “Someone gets a rescue dog and you don’t know who rescued who.”
Dogs are quite amazing in that way. Unfortunately, some have not had wonderful experiences. They've been shut down and when we say shut down, one of the things that we're talking about is their own nature gets shut down.
People meditate for decades to learn to be in the present moment but dogs, dogs are very present; they're almost always in the moment. Once you can get that “shut down” cleared, they get over past trauma so much more easily than we do as people.
Once that weight of the trauma is gone, they are allowed to be more of who they are. And we've seen it again and again with our programs where it does create more harmony between coexisting pets. It makes the timid ones less timid and the bossy ones less bossy. We've seen it again and again.
What we want for our pets is the fullest life they can have. If we really honor and respect them, that is what we wish for them. That means we allow them to be who they truly are. That is something to respect. Most pets can be trained, but how much easier is it to be trained, when one is confident, when one is comfortable in their own skin?
Barbara: One of the things I come across quite often is people who have adopted rescue dogs say that their dogs don’t have any symptoms of trauma, “He's fine. I love him. He loves me. There's nothing wrong with him.” But then almost every one of them says, “Oh yeah, but when I leave, he is so anxious. He gets upset when I leave.” So that fear of abandonment or fear of men in hats or fear of uniforms, or any other fear—even though your dog is so loving around you, most people don’t realize that those
91 fears your dog has can all be easily healed leaving zero trauma for the dog.
David: Yes, exactly. We have programs for that and even fear of thunderstorms, being alone, or alone at night— there are so many things we don't know how the trauma is going to manifest.
Whatever you rescued your dog from has left its imprint. If you have a dog and you say, “My dog loves me, and he's happy all the time.” But, if we ever use the word “except”— except when we go to the store, except when a red car goes by, except when I do this, except if I'm cooking beef, then my dog freaks out—that is the past trauma showing up.
Look, when we're happy and we're comfortable with ourselves, we're feeling really good about ourselves, we’re feeling spiritually connected and everything is good, and we're pretty fearless as people go, but if we're afraid of the dark, it’s clear. We had a trauma. It's the same with dogs.
And it is all fixable.
Obviously, as they get older, they get a little more mellower and content. But if your dog is shy or afraid or exhibits recurring fear about anything, there's a trauma involved in that.
Barbara: So, if dogs benefit from listening to the human quantum healings, do people benefit from listening to the dog rescue healing programs? Does it work the same way?
David: The dog program is not designed to help people. We have programs that are designed to help people, but this one is specifically designed to help pets. But here's the wonderful thing; the mutually supportive relationship that we have with our dogs means our dogs are immensely
92 healing to us when the dog is fully available and wants to do all that it can to help us.
People live longer when they have pets. And they heal faster. This is why they are now bringing pets into prisons, hospitals, and nursing homes.
We’ve developed programs specifically for pets because we could see that the animals were naturally benefitting from the remedies and we wanted to create something specifically for them. It took almost 10 years before we created pet specific products, and I am so glad we did because the feedback we’ve been getting is tremendous. And I am so grateful for the role that animals play in our lives every single day.
About the Authors
Barbara Longué Barbara has transformed her life and business more than once and is now living and working remotely from the middle of the forest overlooking the ocean in Tasmania, Australia. Barbara sold her wine consulting business after 35 years in the wine industry to start a meditation and retreat center. She currently works with successful business owners looking to grow their business to the next
93 level while transforming life not just for their shareholders but for the employees and stakeholders in the community as well. Her pet project (pun intended) is to help rescue dogs feel at home in their new forever home. [email protected] http://Dogrescuehealing.com/
David Adelson
David believes that the purpose of life is expansion of happiness, and that belief started early in his life. Whether heading out to apply for a job or taking a final exam, just as the door was about to close behind him, his dad would call out, “Just have fun.”
In the years since, David has passionately devoted his life to developing over 700 Quantum and Unified Field Infused programs that create happiness, peace and healing quickly and effortlessly.
[email protected] https://peaceandharmonyco.com/
94 Chapter 7 From the desk of Momo and Sherman by Paola S. Anderson and Momo and Sherman, the Dogs
It was December 23, 2010, and the smell of a wood burning fireplace, the scent of pine trees, and the spirit of Christmas was evoked. I had just signed a lease to a new condo 10 blocks away from my Pet Wellness business. The days before Christmas are always the busiest days of the year for us who care for pooches. People emerge from all over, looking for last minute appointments to fluff up their Fido and come looking for more information on how to better care for their pets’ health. My favorite holiday was only 24 hours away and plans to travel to see my family were unfolding.
As wonderful as the thoughts of the holiday sound, this was one of the most difficult years for us all. We were in the midst of a major financial recession—families were struggling to keep their homes, feed their families, and care for their pets. As the recession hit, I was first in the front lines to see the changes in people and their pets. That year, we had more than 25 pets abandoned at my business. Some were left at our door overnight in a cage with a sign that said “free” or “can’t keep them” while others were dropped off for services and never picked up. Other owners came to our door crying that they just could not care for their animals any longer and assumed that we loved dogs and would find a good home for them.
I was torn in half, even though I knew why they were dropping their pets at my doorstep. I just didn’t understand how they could just abandon a family member of so many
95 years instead of asking for help. Earlier that year, I was at my worst. I was homeless and living in my friend’s empty condo (that was headed for foreclosure). I had a few pieces of clothing, a used mattress and a nightstand with a lamp. I was struggling to get my business through the recession and help my family at the same time. I was dog-less, loveless, as I was still struggling with the loss of my pet,
96 Chloe, a German Pointer who I had lost unexpectedly and tragically in 2009. My mission that year had become to help all the dogs that were being abandoned by finding ways to feed them, care for them, and find new homes. Shelters were full and rescue organizations were devoid of funds, but our hearts were huge and we knew we had to help.
I found that the more I helped, the more the universe compensated me. My business was feeding my family, my friends, more than 25 dogs and was surviving the recession. At the end of 2010, I was finally able to rent a small condo close to my business and start a new life.
On the morning of December 23, 2010, I started my day like I would any other day in December: Holiday music, a cup of coffee and a short huddle with my staff. We were preparing for the busiest day of the year. Little did I know that on this day in the most unimaginable way, my life would be changed forever.
Sherman, Momo and their owner at the time walked into my business for their grooming appointment. Sherman was a little overweight and Momo was a little underweight and both had very bad skin conditions. Their owner goes into a long, detailed conversation about each of their routines and health conditions. She continues to tell me that Sherman, the brown Pomeranian, was her favorite and slept indoors. He was purchased from a puppy mill, was going to be 10-years-old in January, and that he had stomach problems. She then went into Momo’s story and said that he was her least favorite because he barked and ate everything so she had him tied to a tree in her backyard most of his life. Momo had a large bald area around his neck from the chain that was strung around him for his whole life; he was full of fleas, ticks, and also had stomach problems. She had purchased Momo from a puppy mill in Missouri and he had turned 9 years old that month.
97 I remember thinking to myself that this was a lot of information for just a grooming appointment. I had a bad feeling about it so I decided to ask more questions, to update her address and take down an additional emergency number. Later that day we called her to pick up the pets and there was no answer—we called the emergency number and it was disconnected. We tried over and over again. At this point, it was 8 p.m. and there was no answer so I decided to drive to the house listed on the contact information. To my surprise, the house was empty with a big foreclosure sign on the door. My only option now was to take them home with me and wait until the next day to talk to neighbors and continue to call her.
The new condo lease that I had just signed specifically said “no pets”. I took Momo and Sherman home anyway and just hid them in my bedroom. The next day we enjoyed a quiet Christmas eve dinner on the floor with plastic plates as I had just moved in and had no furniture. As the days passed, it was becoming very clear that Sherman and Momo’s owner was not coming back. December passed and Sherman’s and Momo’s health were declining. Sherman was diagnosed with severe Pancreatitis and Momo with severe elevated liver values. I remember thinking, What I’m I going to do now? These babies, abandoned by their family, the only family they knew all of their life, were living with me; a stranger in an empty home that does not allow dogs. They had to come to work with me every day because they could not stay home alone and then they are submitted to test after test at the veterinarian’s to get them healthy again.
By mid-January, I had over 40 applications from interested families to adopt them, but most of them wanted them separated. I didn’t think that separating them was going to be the best option. As February was approaching, I knew I had to make a decision. Sherman and Momo had become my co-pilots in my long-distance relationship with my
98 partner. I had been driving 6 hours back and forth from Southern California to Northern California. They were my partners in this new adventure, of having a new home, traveling, seeing new places and surviving a recession.
On a Saturday afternoon, I decided to take a drive to pick up supplies for my business. I started driving and took a wrong left turn. In one second, I was lost in my own neighborhood, I didn’t recognize where I was. I stopped at a corner to try to figure out a way back, when on the stop post I see a sign that says, “psychic fair this way.” I looked up and didn’t hesitate to follow the signs. It led me to an empty building to a door that said, “enter here.” I walked in and there were maybe 2-3 rows of vendors. I walked up to the first one I saw, and she just so happened to be a “pet psychic.” Without me saying one word, she looked at me and said, “Yes, I will go to your business and answer your questions.” She would be there at this date, time and gave me a card with her number. I turned around, walked out, got into my car and drove back to my business. I walked in and Sherman and Momo barked to greet me. I got on the floor and told them that the following week there was going to be someone coming to our business to talk to them. I told them that they had to help me make the decision of what home they wanted to go to and whether or not they wanted to go together. They quietly sat there listening to what I was saying and I felt they were agreeing to my request but they had one request. They wanted my partner to be in the meeting too. I called my partner and arranged for her to drive down to us and be there for Sherman and Momo’s deciding day.
The day had come when the psychic was arriving and we were all there waiting impatiently in the lobby of our business. She walked in without saying a word to us or to them; she kneeled down to their level and silently spoke to them. They both walked over to her and it appeared as if they were connecting at another level that could not be
99 explained. She laughed, she frowned and laughed again as Momo went to my partner and Sherman walked over to me. She looked at us and said, “They are enjoying the road trips and don’t mind the traveling, but Sherman does not want to go on a plane and prefers the car and Momo doesn’t really care.” She then stood up and said that they both had said the same thing: They had found their forever home with us, and asked if we would be their moms?
My partner and I both looked at each other and started crying. We immediately said “yes” and hugged both our boys. The pet psychic looked at us and said nothing else was needed to say, she collected her payment, walked out the door and became a ghost, a mystery woman. Her card was never found again, her number erased from my phone and her name was erased from our memory.
I looked at my boys and promised to love them and care for them every step of this life journey, knowing that at the end, I would be as heartbroken as I was when I lost my Chloe. Together we were going to learn to love again and not fear being a family. I wanted to love again. I wanted to feel that unconditional love that makes everything better in every moment of the day. I wanted to feel that fuzzy feeling run through my skin, that feeling and confidence that I could be everything they needed me to be. Once again, little did I know what my future for them would hold, what they would teach me and what was awaiting me. The journey they set me on was one of those that most would dream of.
In 2011, as we entered into our new life, we embarked with much difficulty in balancing a new journey with 2 furry children, the challenge of their existing health problems and a long distance relationship. But we were happy, they were happy, and I felt we were all in love. We continued our road trips up north and down south, to the beach, the redwoods, the coastline, Big Sur, Monterey Bay, Carmel
100 countryside and Carmel by the Sea, Cambria and San Francisco. We stayed at pet friendly Bed and Breakfasts, we camped, we visited friends and most importantly, we experienced getting lost finding each other.
The more things we experienced together and places that we traveled, the more I knew I had to learn how to better care for them at another level. How could I help them live a longer and healthier life? How could I save them in an emergency? What if they stopped breathing during one of our road trips?
In July 2011, we decided to take our first Pet CPR and first aid class with PetTech. We wanted to be equipped with the tools we needed to help our boys through their senior years and save them in an emergency situation.
January of 2012, my partner was walking Momo and Sherman on the corner of our business when out of nowhere she sees a Pitbull charging towards her. In seconds, the Pitbull had Momo’s neck in her mouth attempting to tear him apart. She was able to pry Momo from the Pitbull, grab Sherman and ran screaming towards my business. My employee, who had also taken the Pet CPR class with us, immediately took him from mu partner’s arms while I picked up my keys and we both ran to the car. At this point, Momo was unconscious, so I started driving to the emergency clinic while my employee started to give Momo rescue breathing. When we arrived, we handed Momo to the doctor and attendant and they took him in. Momo was brought out hours later with drainage tubes coming out of his neck and a lot of take-home medication and care instructions.
That day I realized that my pet education could not and would not end there. I had been working with dogs for 10 years now and always thought I knew enough. But what is enough? Is enough a measurable thought or fact? In April
101 of that year, my partner and I decided we would take our pet education a step further and become Pet CPR and first aid instructors. We graduated and immediately started to share what we had learned with other pet parents and professionals. Momo and Sherman attended all of our classes; Momo playing the role of our Demo dog. We traveled from north to south, teaching everyone who was interested and those who didn’t even know these life saving techniques existed.
In September 2012, I applied for my first trip as a pet educator to Ecuador. I traveled with an international organization and together with 22 other doctors, veterinary technicians and assistants, we helped over 1,000 animals receive medical care and over 300 got spayed and neutered. That trip was just the beginning of what was coming. Little did I know that the next 7 years of my life were going to be dedicated to helping animals on the medical side all around the world. Momo and Sherman gave me the approval to travel to help these animals, but they wanted more.
So in 2015, we applied to become a 501(c)3 non-profit and start our own foundation to help animals around the world. We named it Global United Foundation. We fundraised to help pay for medical expenses and feed dogs and cats in need. We started our work locally in Southern California and made our way to the border across to Tijuana, Tecate, and Rosarito, Mexico. My knowledge with what I had learned on the medical side and my Spanish speaking skills gave us the opportunity to expand to South America and collaborate with other foundations in Argentina, Paraguay, up to Guatemala and as far as Mongolia where I worked with a veterinary team providing medical care to dogs, cats, goats, horses and yaks, yes, yaks!
Momo and Sherman had led me into an unimaginable journey with my own foundation. It brought a greater
102 meaning to everything that I was being taught by veterinarians, but I never imagined it would be a prelude for what I am going to share next.
May 5, 2015, we were at my parents’ home, when I noticed Sherman behind the dining room table shaking uncontrollably. He fell over to his left side, I picked him up knowing that this was a seizure/stroke like movement and we rushed him to the emergency room. The doctors determined that it was a stroke and immediately rushed us to the neurologist who confirmed the stroke, but we needed to do an MRI to see what type of neurological problems this had caused. I knew that an MRI at his age was not an option. We were not going to put him under anesthesia for this, furthermore we knew that the stroke had to be caused by an underling health issue of which we were unaware. We then continued our search and the next day took him to a doctor who suggested doing an ultrasound to look for any abnormalities like tumors, etc. A few hours later the doctor informed us that she found a tumor in his adrenal gland; this tumor would be diagnosed as a rare cancer called Pheochromocytoma.
Just when you thought you had learned “enough”, along comes Cancer. The doctor highly recommended immediate surgery to remove the tumor, but his chances of survival were 20%. How do you transfer survival rate into real words? What did 20% survival mean? Everything they told us transcribed into, “With or without surgery, your pet will not live.”
There was no way in my mind or heart that I could possibly be okay with this and accept this as his and our fate. This was not the end of our life journey together; we had so much life to live, so much to enjoy and share. That next day we drove up north to see an herbalist that we had been formerly introduced to for family treatment. We took Sherman to him, and as he held his paw, we talked about
103 his diagnoses. All he said was, “There is this drug, it’s called Rapamycin. I don’t know how to find it, but find it, it will give him 4-6 more years of good life.”
That night I went home and started my research on this drug, dogs with Cancer, people with Cancer, alternative treatments, new treatments. Anything and every category you can imagine; I researched it. I did not sleep for 3 whole days, reading, researching, calling people, talking to doctor friends both on the animal and human side. Most said, “He lived a good life with you, let him go,” or “There is no treatment; there is no hope for that type of Cancer.”
On the third night, I found the drug. I found the project that could lead me to the drug. That night I sent them an email and by the next day, we were on the phone with the scientist who said, “I cannot give you the drug but if you find a veterinarian willing to prescribe it, I will provide the dosage to the veterinarian.” That same day we started our search for a doctor who would prescribe this never before used or seen drug in the industry of pet medicine. To our surprise, we were told NO, over and over again, until we reached the 7th veterinarian on our list, Dr. Maria Bromme who said, “It’s your dog, why not!” That same day we put her in contact with the scientist who gave her the dosage. Now we had to look for a pharmacy that would actually carry the Rapamycin or obtain it for us. That same week Sherman was started on Rapamycin; by Day 3, he was walking and eating on his own.
Sherman and I were happy to have so many more years ahead of us. We started a bucket list of adventures. We went to the Golden Gate Bridge, visited Apple headquarters, experienced a snow and hail storm and took an RV trip up the coast. In early 2019, Sherman was diagnosed with severe kidney disease that took us on a long road of home care, medications and a lot of trial and error of treatments. In March of 2020, our world was hit
104 by a terrible Pandemic called COVID-19, the novel Coronavirus that forced us all to stay home. As terrible as this time was, it was golden for us. I would wake next to my Sherman every day without having to go to work, lie with him as we watched movies and had tea together. We went on nature walks and visits to the beach; we saw the sunrise and the sunset together. I had this magical bonding time with him that will live in my heart until the day I leave this world.
One late night in May, I sat with him in a quiet room and he spoke to me. He told me, “Mom, I’m tired and I don’t feel well.” I called my partner into the room and told her what I heard. She understood and asked me to give her one last week with him. Sherman gave his approval to be with us and on this last week enjoy every minute of the day and night with him. I knew he was ready to go, so I made the arrangements. It was not the Cancer, it was not the kidney disease that took him, but it was the severe dementia that his body was enduring that did not have a cure.
May 29, 2020, on an overcast day at Sherman’s favorite park, under a blue umbrella, with drawings and notes from his aunties, uncles and all his cousins, and surrounded by his brothers Momo and Marvin and his mamas, Sherman took his last breath.
Sherman came into my life during a recession and left my life in a pandemic. I hope that Sherman’s story empowers you to take action, research and care for your furry babies as we care for ours. May Sherman’s life Journey empower you…..
Not the end.
105 About the Author
Paola S. Anderson is a parent to 3 furry babies, a pet professional, pet industry educator and influencer with over 18 years of experience. She is a Pet Health care advocate who coaches and teaches in both Spanish and English. Paola has worked in 7 different countries, founded a non-profit organization to help animals around the world, worked with thousands of Pet Care Professionals and saved countless animals. In her work, she has helped save countless of animals’ lives and similarly empowered their humans to actively participate in emergency prevention and response.
Paola believes that everyone should have the same opportunities and access to the information needed to help our animals live a longer, happier and healthier life. Effective care happens through education, awareness, and efficient communication between Pet Parents and Pet Professionals. When you are empowered with the skills that you need to save your pet’s life or your pet client’s life, you enhance your relationship with those around you.
http://www.inspirationdog.com
106 Chapter 8 Two Bodies: One Beautiful Soul by the Andersons: Comet, Simba, and Judy
Never in my wildest dreams did I think having a puppy would radically change my life!
But that’s exactly what happened when I adopted Comet, a golden lab, from my neighbor. A Naturopath had told me that all of his patients who had shingles experienced a great transformation in their lives afterward. Comet was my “Shingles Gift”! And definitely worth it!
I was publishing a magazine, and Comet was the ultimate model for every back cover. He’d wear a Santa Claus hat, sunglasses, a green hat and bowtie for St. Patrick’s Day, patriotic gear for the 4th of July; dressed for the holidays!
When his body started to decline, he told me that he knew there wasn’t going to be a good time to leave…I’d be devastated whenever that was. He said that he’d go in his sleep, but I asked him to go with me present, as I had heard one could observe the Soul rising out of the body at the time of transition. Being the great dog that he was, he passed with me. And no, I wasn’t sitting peacefully in a yoga position watching his Soul leave. It wasn’t like that at all; however, that’s when the magic began.
I was guided to get my pendulum. I spent the night asking him questions, and I’d get answers. It was my first experience that at death, the Soul is very much alive. At the crematorium, I let Comet choose his own urn (yes, the most expensive one! Beautiful black and gold!). I told the
107
Two Bodies: One Beautiful Soul!
owners what I was doing, and then asked Comet, “Comet, do you always get what you want?” And did that pendulum
108 really swing! I looked at the men and told them that I wasn’t moving it, and they agreed, it was moving on its own!
I learned that people sent the magazine with a tribute to Comet to friends around the country. A few years later, I was in a coffee shop, when a person looked at me and asked, “Did you have a magazine with Comet on the back?” He had really made an impression, and I feel brought a lot of joy to people, especially me! My tribute:
“Comet’s Message: ‘The greatest way to honor the love of a dog is to go out and spread joy in the world.’”
A tribute to Comet: “‘Comet’…I didn’t care for the name at first, however, the little boy who named you picked the perfect name. In the dictionary: ‘Comet: a bright celestial being with a tail.’ Indeed your bright light shone in my life. You amazed me when you saw 3 people walking together in the dog park and went up to each of them, dropped your ball at their feet so that each one had the opportunity to throw it once for you. When you were satisfied all had been included, we continued our walk.
~ When I arrived at DIA at 8:30 pm after three weeks in Egypt, the doggie sitter said you got up at that precise time and went and sat by the door to wait for me. ~When I started this magazine, you were the one who made me laugh during the very difficult start-up time. ~You added to people’s lives and mine by ‘going to work’ every day in the back seat of the car. ~You ran wet into a group of people baking in the hot sun at the Jazz Festival, and I could hear their panicked sounds of expectation, and sure enough, it was time for a good shake! ~You put up a fuss and got me to go downstairs to see that the stove had been left on. And oh, so much more!
109 I so very much miss the “thump, thump” of your tail, your playfulness, and seeing you sitting or sleeping in the back seat of the car.
I must always remember the words guitarist Jonathan Butler was singing at a Jazz concert exactly one week after your passing at 10:08 p.m. “Don’t cry, Woman; everything’s going to be alright.”
And in the end, a Great Gift…through your physical passing you taught me that our physical bodies may die, but our spirits live forever. Thank You, Comet, for Laughter, Love and Lessons. I Love You…until we see each other again…Judy.”
I was in a state of shock for several months. I told so many people that Comet was coming back, that dogs reincarnate. It was interesting to hear people in the dog park tell me how they thought their dog had come back, but they’d never talked to anyone about it. Seemed like a lot of people were relieved after meeting some crazy lady who confirmed what they had been thinking!
After two weeks of Comet resting on the lap of God, he said he wanted to come back. We chose the body of a West Highland Terrier for our next adventure together. I started a search for a breeder who had a history of feeding human grade raw food and no unnecessary vaccinations, so the puppy would be in a healthy body because his first body wasn’t very healthy. I love and appreciate people who choose rescue animals. Because I had promised Comet a healthy body, I felt I had to make sure his bloodline was healthy, hence, the search for the right breeder. We found one on the East Coast. When the puppy arrived, I was ready to hop in my car and go get him; however, the breeder said that the puppies were all going to be show dogs. Comet was already in one of those new little bodies,
110 and his response was, “Not for me. That’s not what I want! I don’t want to be a show dog.” Out he popped from that body. I lost him again...
We expanded our search to Canada and the U.K. We found a breeder in Canada. So my mother, sister and I along with Mollie the Maltese made the 21-hour drive to be at the breeder’s house at 9 a.m. on the first day she would release the puppies. I was so afraid that someone else might take him, but no, there he was! He wanted to be a male, and there was only one male! My puppy!
The breeder told me that he’d probably cry a few nights as he would miss his sisters and her. That night at the hotel I made a bed on the floor and just looked at him until 5 a.m. I was just so amazed that we had reconnected. He was the most precious little thing. He never ever cried. He knew he was “home.” When I woke up after my short sleep, he was looking at me with his deep soulful eyes! Together again!
Unlike Comet, who had a name, I now had a new puppy to name. I really wanted to choose a name that was unique, special, and meant something to both of us. He was four months old when he got his name! I searched for hours on the internet. If I saw a name that seemed like a possibility, I’d call the name to see if he’d respond.
Then it hit me….like a “V-8” moment! Meditate and ask for the name! Duhh….hadn’t thought of that before! So I sat down on the floor and gave God the “requirements of the name” and then asked what it should be. BOOM! It immediately came directly into the back, right side of my head! “Simba!” I opened my eyes and said “Simba”! He turned around and looked at me! It was the first name he had responded to! I looked on my computer and saw that it was Swahili for “Lion”! So very perfect! I absolutely love lions and Africa!
111 After all those late nights on the computer, all I had to do was ask. Big lesson there: “Ask and you shall receive.” I asked and immediately got Simba’s name. I also asked when I was totally stumped about the name of my next business. Walking in the dog park, asking the question, and another BOOM! “Jazz Up Your Life with Judy!” (The name of this chapter came the same way!)
Simba was treated as Comet was….organic raw meats and veggies, chiropractic treatments, energy treatments, brushing his teeth. He loved massages. We had a chemical- free home and lawn. Like Comet, he had two vets, a conventional vet for twice a year check-ups and then a holistic/energy vet. If something needed to be addressed, it would be done without drugs. While Comet came into the world with a body that wasn’t that healthy, Simba had gotten a great start in life, and his only ailment was a pulled tendon.
Comet would respond when I said, “show me” and he’d go to the door, to a bowl, etc. to let me know what he wanted. When I said the same to Simba, he would just sit and look at me. I knew what he was thinking…”you can hear me; you can communicate!” Little rascal!
Simba was my co-host on my tele-summit. We’d be downstairs for breakfast, and I’d say, “We have a show to do!” He’d go to the office and sit on the back of my chair. Only after he passed, did I learn what it meant to him.
Comet had told me that he loved that I hadn’t treated him like a “dog.” I treated Simba like a little kid. A fall festival with a petting zoo or animals for the kids, we’d go. He got to meet goats, calves, sheep, horses and observe chickens.
We went on a hayride and hikes. He had Bark-Mitz-Paws and virtual birthday parties with the Jazz Up Community.
112 Simba loved to travel, sometimes getting into my suitcase when I was packing like, ”You’re not leaving without me!” We drove tens of thousands of miles!! Many years we wintered several weeks on South Padre Island. He loved walking on the beach but wasn’t too fond of his Doggles! He was okay with his Mutt Muffs at Brule concerts in South Dakota! We didn’t go for walks. We went for sniffs! Walks were his time to explore and be out in the world, so if he wanted to sniff for twenty minutes, that’s what we did. A doctor said that dogs who are allowed to sniff have a more optimistic approach to the world. So sniff he did!!!
While Simba was very healthy, there came a time when his body was telling us something was not right. After getting a diagnosis from an Xray, I shouted to God in tears, anger and hurt. “Why?” And now, in retrospect, I do see that there is Divine Timing, and it’s perfect.
After the last Jazz Up show for the year, I expressed to Simba that while I loved him and wanted him to be with me, if he was in pain, and if it was for his highest good to transition, to go ahead. I told him that I preferred that he go on his own. He didn’t know if he could do that because his heart and mind were so strong. Bless his little Soul, around 30 minutes later at 2:22 p.m., he shut down all systems. I called a friend who told me “he’s coming back.” Then I called our Energy Veterinarian, and he told me that when I called, Simba nudged him. I told him my friend had said, “He’s coming back,” and he chuckled and said, “Yes, he is!”
So another tribute: “Divine Perfection describes You...My Soul Buddy and Adventurer, Teacher, Travel Companion, Co-host of Jazz Up Events. When asked if you were a service dog, my response: ‘Yes, He’s in service to Humanity.’ My love and
113 gratitude for You knows no bounds. Now my heart aches with such emptiness. Thank you for your assurance... ‘It’s ok to grieve, you’re human.’”
Simba in Spirit, talking to me, 2 weeks later: “The best way I can describe it is that I seem to be expanding. My energy is even bigger, and it’s quite fascinating. I’m not sure if ‘bigger’ is exactly the right word. I feel ‘spread throughout’, that would be a better way of describing it. My energy is merging with All That Is. It doesn’t mean I’m losing my individuality. Well, in a way I am. Obviously, I’m not losing my identity as a soul, but it’s quite an extraordinary experience, and it’s lovely to be having it again. It’s beautiful to be able to be part of all life and feel that unconditional love within me. So, it’s very beautiful. So, that’s how I am.
What I wanted to share is that my experiences with the Jazz Up Your Life community, teachers, participants—the givers and receivers—was something that really expanded my Soul. It helped me grow and evolve. It exposed me to so much beautiful energy work. Again, the exchange of giving and receiving energy, lessons, experiences...all these amazing things that as a canine, we are, of course, aware of, but we don’t typically get to experience them all in a lifetime.
It was such a concentration of all these beautiful energies that it helped me expand my Soul in my body while I was alive. Beyond that, I am now serving as a bridge to the rest of the canine community in these beautiful expanded states that are connected to the human beings that I came into contact with through physical workshops and the Jazz Up Community. It’s not as much about the details of the knowledge of the specific teachings, as much as about the powerful loving energy of human expansion. The reason I am so enjoying being a bridge is because canines have been beside humans for centuries, and it is our great joy
114 and great service to the Divine to help our beloved humans find their way back home, back to love, back to source. This is what we do. This is how we serve.
However, as you know, there are many lifetimes spent where we are not seen for who we truly are. We are seen as helpmates, as working dogs, we have all different activities we’ve allowed ourselves to be bred for. The purpose was so we could accompany humans in every walk of life. Humans think so often that the breeding and variety from the tiniest to the largest dogs is something that humans manipulated on their own; however, truthfully it couldn’t have happened without our permission. It is our great joy to do this—to be in many different forms, again with the purpose of not ‘doing’ but of ‘being’ by your side, constantly showing our devotion, our loyalty, our playfulness and expressing our unconditional love in as many ways as possible, to open human hearts, to help humans to access the love in their hearts.
One of the great joys of being a canine is that we can reach hearts that are closed. We can heal. It’s all through unconditional love. We cultivate that seed in the human heart. We nurture, we bathe that seed in love and nourishment and, of course, that love is returned to us. This is an absolutely perfect exchange as far as we’re concerned. Many dogs have many lifetimes where they haven’t been seen. They will do this anyway, and they’ll continue to hold this mission and their level of high service no matter what happens. As you have seen, many dogs who have been through so much, with just a little love and attention, begin to blossom and heal. This is a reflection back to humans—you, too, can heal when you receive love and care.
I feel like I am everywhere now. What I have been doing and can do now with such effectiveness is touch canine consciousness everywhere. I can send out this information
115 of my experience with human beings through our workshops, calls, healings and more. I can send it out in a broad way so that any canine who needs it or is paying attention can align with it. However, in addition, I can strengthen that energy flow to any specific canine that requests it.
I want you to understand how wonderful this is and how important it is, because what we are seeing and experiencing with our humans is a certain level of overwhelm, exhaustion, worry, doubt, and fear. Sadly, for human beings, fear is the biggest challenge.
So how wonderful it is that the gifts you provided to me, Judy, I am now able to dissipate, to send out, to broadcast far and wide to canines to bolster them, to encourage them, to support them, to give them hope and faith and joy. To allow each of them to feel, ‘I knew my humans could do this! I believe in them. I love them! I know they can do this!’
This is not a little thing. It is a great thing. So it is my great pleasure, honor, privilege, to be the bridge and disseminator of this energy, which I will continue to hold and carry. Sometimes I tap into particular experiences, feelings, and communications between humans and angels and sometimes I tap into something specific and send it to another canine. Other times, it is just to bathe them in this loving energy exchange by the Jazz Up Community and others’ workshops you and I attended together (Gregg Braden, Dr. Bruce Lipton, Lee Carroll (Kryon), Michelle Karen, Rikka Zimmerman, Louix Dor Dempriey).
I just want you to understand what a support this is for the entire canine community who are now in form on earth. Those that are not in form anymore are tuned into this anyway—they don’t need it. It is needed by those who are in form, doing their work, serving the Divine and helping
116 humans wherever they live. Also, those canines are evolving, because as you know there are different levels of consciousness in the canine community just like there are in the human community. Canines, felines, and equines have variations of consciousness and awareness just like humans. The difference is we are all connected to Source, and we know it. No matter what, unless it’s something terribly disruptive on multiple levels, we do not lose that connection. Whereas a great number of humans are still in the dark about their own light and the love and light that they are connected to all of the time.
So that leads me to another thank you. Thank you for the work you are doing connecting human beings to one another, to different healers, workshops, experiences, exchanges. Even when a human encounters a testimonial, someone who has had a special experience with a particular healer or teacher that touches other beings that read it or hear it or somehow become aware of how that healer, teacher or session helped them. That has a powerful effect. So keep those coming because those are also very helpful for the canines.
Another thing I want to say—you too, Judy, are a bridge by creating the format for the gathering of humans around the world and inviting them to participate in the workshops, sessions, healings, teachings, wisdom. That is your path and your purpose. I am so proud of you that you have created this, even though sometimes it has its challenges. Remember that you are doing a great service to the human beings who are searching, hoping, and believing there is something better. There is something better and their hearts, minds, and spirits are ready to open, and there you are with Jazz Up Your Life. Never underestimate how important that is!
It was an extraordinary life. It’s also the culmination of many lifetimes that we two have been together. This is a
117 contract. I came to support you in doing this work and then it has, of course, given back to me—and not just me but the entire canine community, in addition to the humans that you reach. This is a very important and powerful path.
Just recognize as I’m a bridge, so are you, connecting different teachers, healers, and messages to those who are ready to listen and receive. We do have a good communication, and I’m always available to you in your meditations and to be a part of the community meditations, as always, holding space for the humans involved in the sessions and the healings. I would love that. It creates a laser bridge to be there and to send that energy back out to the whole canine community. I love doing that. Please, let’s keep that up.
Animal abusers: The people who perpetrate abuse are wounded humans. Wounded humans are the ones that inflict pain on others. It’s that simple. Everything that you are doing to help people grow and heal is all you can do. Unless they seek help, there is nothing that can be done for them beyond holding them in love. But, if they aren’t aware of it or can’t open to accept it, there’s nothing anyone can do. That’s all that can be done. So don’t dwell on it; it’s not helpful. Don’t give it any energy. Give the energy to love, awareness, of anything that we do for ourselves. That is critical.
Share the message and create the connection so that more people understand that we can‘t do that kind of harm. We must check our institutions and end cruelty where we find it. That is critical. In order to end cruelty, humans do have to start with each other because the perpetrators are wounded human beings and that’s why they do what they do. They are wounded and disconnected, and they are perpetuating pain because that‘s what they know. In order to end cruelty, humans do have to start with each other.”
118 Simba and I talk every day. He still gives me belly laffs! One day he told me he wanted to ‘take a couple of weeks off’ so I respected that and when he came back, he had this message for me:
“Judy, Judy, you allowed me to move into the Spirit realm. It’s been a blast! I love being in all places in a light body! I can be with our friend in the mountains and also with you. My time that I took to be off totally on my own, I spent with Jesus. What a guy...fun and you really can learn from him. Not that I’m interested in making wine from water but to stand in my own dog power, that’s how I can love and support the canine community from afar. I can spread my light and love to canines in distress.
Love and compassion are so important. Allowing people to be and accepting them as they are. It’s that position of neutrality. Seeing how a person is and allowing them to be as God created them. Everyone is so very different. That brings the spice of life. Differences can be so beautiful if a person is open to receive and accept those differences. Humans get very stuck in the way they think about things and how people should be. That allowance... allowing them to be as they are, actually gives them permission to change. Then there’s no resistance. Fighting to make oneself a certain way, then underneath there is always that self, which a person hasn’t accepted. But if one accepts themselves or you as a person accepts another person, this acceptance really allows that person or yourself to change. And when one is in the flow of Spirit, then that change is always for the better.
The poor souls who abuse animals are the ones who need love...who really need to be loved. Because we critters know this, we often offer a loving welcome to those that have been abused. Spreading love, light, and acceptance just as you did yesterday in the park with those total strangers. Sitting with them, supporting them and their
119 puppy. Talking about racism without judgment because they had black skin, talking about God. You totally loved and accepted them. That’s what people need to do. Okay, this is enough for now.”
Enough for now...there’s so much more I could share about Simba. Perhaps there’s a book to come. Especially when he comes back, and we have adventures to share when he’s in physical form!
Love Your Animals! Love You! Both are Magnificent beyond Your Imagination!
120 About the Authors
Born on a ranch in the Sandhills of Nebraska, animals played a big part in Judy’s early life. She preferred playing with animals rather than dolls!
After college, she embarked on a life journey that took her to New York City to work at the UN Association, followed by volunteer work and studying at the Sorbonne in Paris, then an acting career in New York City. She worked with internationally known Rev. Ike and on a project with Merrill Lynch in Europe.
Judy loves travel! From being awarded an Around the World Trip, which included a 7-week stay in India studying with renown world religion scholar, Huston Smith, to teaching English in Japan, on safari and volunteer work in Africa, or visiting the incredible Peruvian sites of Machu Picchu.
After selling her publishing company, she asked, “What can I do to have the greatest impact on the greatest number of lives?” She was led to create and host her global telesummit, “Jazz Up Your Life with Judy: Step into Greater Love, Joy and Abundance!”
121 She is a healing energy facilitator and also uses the FDA approved medical device, Healy, which delivers physical and emotional wellness through Frequency Specific Micro- Current Therapy.
Next year Judy will host an amazing animal podcast and summit. Website is in process of being designed. In the meantime, find out more at: http://jazzupyourlifewithjudy.com [email protected]
Simba Anderson, CPO: Chief Puppy Officer of Your Hometown Magazine, Author, Animal Wisdom Tales, Co- Host of “Jazz Up Your Life with Judy”
Comet Anderson: Model, Head Distribution Manager, “Your Hometown Magazine”
Simba at Brule concert (Native American Band)
Simba & Judy at Mt. Shasta 122 Chapter 9 Roxy to the Rescue In Memory of Denise Cohen
by Leana Orsua
Ping, ping, ping. It’s not even 6 o’clock in the morning and my phone is already vibrating and ringing. I ignore the first message. Another one comes through. Then another. Who would be texting me this early? It’s Monday. Lord knows I hate starting off my work week on lack of sleep. I slowly open my eyes, reaching for the phone. I can make out my sister’s name. As I reach for my glasses, I mumble to myself, This better be important.
I open the first message, “Leana, have you heard from Denise?” Next message. “Dozens of people killed in Las Vegas.” Third message: “Deadliest mass shooting in U.S. History.” I’ll never forget the words that jumped across the screen on my phone. My weary eyes are now wide open. My heart beating quickly as I jump to my feet. I grab the door to open it, Roxy and Gigi are gingerly waiting for me on the other side with their usual morning smiles and wagging tails. Ignoring them, I run down the stairs, hearing their paws pitter pattering, one after the other behind me.
I grab the remote control, putting it on Channel 3, for Good Morning America. There it was, Breaking News. A man opens fire at a crowded country Music Festival on the Last Vegas strip. The Route 91 Harvest Music Festival where
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Photos by Stacy Bloodworth
124 Denise and Bo Taylor, her on-again, off-again boyfriend had been since Friday. My jaw drops. I grab the phone and call Denise. It rings, then goes to voicemail. I try again. Still no answer. I text her. “Denise, please tell me you are ok.” Minutes go by. Still no response. My eyes start to fill with tears. Stop! I tell myself. She’s ok. She’s probably still asleep.
I met Denise Cohen in 2008 at the Canary Hotel, the home of one of Santa Barbara’s trendiest bars for cocktails and socializing. At the time, I had just uprooted my life from Mobile, Alabama where I had lived for two years working for a CBS station as a field reporter. After my contract had ended, I chose to try my luck at finding work back in California. I’d temporarily moved to Santa Barbara, my home town, hoping to land a position in San Diego.
I never saw myself staying in Santa Barbara. It was merely a temporary place to hang my hat, while I sent out my resume reels. Santa Barbara is a tourist town. Beautiful in every aspect with miles of ocean views, and breathtaking mountain landscapes, but it lacked employment opportunities and I had gained enough experience that I was at a level to start exercising my reporting skills in a larger market. So, when I met Denise, you could say I was in transition. And Denise was too. Denise had moved to Santa Barbara only a few months before I’d met her. She made her way to the seaside enclave to follow a guy. The relationship didn’t evolve the way she had hoped, but our friendship did. Despite our 14-year age difference, which we always joked about, “she was too young to be my mom, but old enough to be my older sister.”
That night at the Canary, we clicked instantaneously. It was effortless; the way you meet your best friend when you are in grade school. No gaps in conversation, just an instant click as if we had already known each other for a lifetime.
125 She told me how she grew up in Northern California, married, then divorced, and re-married again, eventually moving to Washington. She had relatives who lived in Santa Barbara and here she found a place to plant some roots. The two of us seemed like an unlikely pair. On the outset, we shared little in common: She’d been married twice and raised two sons, I had never been married, but was living a life of independence and intention. Denise was intrigued by my adventurous energy, and I found her positive outlook on life exhilaratingly contagious. As the years went by and our friendship grew, Denise and I found ourselves counseling each other over family dynamics, broken hearts, and career moves. We always had a way of supporting each other. Eventually, however, we came to a bump in the road that caused us to drift apart for a period of time. When we made our way back to each other, our friendship picked up right where it had left off. Eventually Denise moved in with me. I nicknamed her my She- husband.
Images of chaos at the scene outside the Mandalay Bay Hotel splashed across the screen followed by witness accounts describing scenes of horror and mayhem. “Gunfire broke during Jason Aldean’s performance,” a shaken witness describes. “We thought it was fireworks before we realized they were gunshots. That’s when everyone started running,” says another. My mind starts racing as Roxy and Gigi sit on the couch next to me, clearly aware that they won’t be getting their usual morning snuggles.
As I run the scenario through my head, I rationalize to myself, that she’s experienced a traumatic and heavily emotional situation and has probably been up all night. I’ll hear from her soon. Suddenly my phone rings. Oh, Thank god, she’s okay! I grab the phone. The voice on the other end is not Denise. It’s Lorraine, my next-door neighbor, who had just returned from a cruise with the day before.
126 “Leana, have you heard from Denise?” “No, Lorraine, I haven’t. I’m worried,” I tell her, as my voice starts to tremble. Two minutes later Lorraine comes over. We work together to piece together any clues we can to give us information on her whereabouts. We jump on her Facebook page. Her last post shows her and Bo earlier Sunday afternoon at 3 p.m. Denise and Bo smiling ear to ear wearing cowboy hats and posing in front of a Budweiser mural. Nothing stating she had jumped on an earlier flight to get out of Dodge, or she’s at her hotel safely sleeping off the terror she endured and counting her blessings that she was one of the lucky ones.
I knew this did not look good. Lorraine reassures me that we’ll get more information, but she’s got to get to work. We promise to stay in contact throughout the day. I text my supervisor to let her know what’s going on, and I won’t be coming in. I talk to my mom. She, my aunt, and a family friend agree to come over and help me do what I can to search for Denise. I’m still in my pajamas and it’s noon. The three of us call the hotel only to find, there’s no room listed under Bo Taylor. Strike 1. We call the three major hospitals in Las Vegas with hopes that they’ve perhaps had some minor injury from the gunfire, and they are being treated. Strike 2. No one by the name of Bo Taylor or Denise Cohen have been admitted. By now, the reality is starting to sink in that things are not looking good. One by one, the names of the victims are being released on the news. Nothing on Denise and Bo.
As morning turned in to afternoon, the sun started to go down and Roxy and Gig are getting hungry. I warm them up some food. Earlier in the day, I contacted Denise’s oldest son Jeff. Jeff had been corresponding with Denise’s aunt and uncle who were at Ground Zero. Gloria and Edward Avila live in Las Vegas. They had planned to pick up Denise and Bo after the concert for a night cap. I get a hold of Gloria and Edward, who were among dozens‒if not
127 hundreds‒of worried family and friends camped out at the Las Vegas Convention Center where the Red Cross had created a temporary communications station to release the identities of the deceased.
Gloria and Edward, anxious and exhausted, wait for more than 7 hours as individual families of more than 50 possible victims are led into a room, where Las Vegas crime scene investigators deliver heart wrenching news. The Avilas are the last family to be called in. Family and friends of Denise spanning across three different states say a prayer and do their best to patiently wait.
As the clock ticks, my eyes grow heavy. I’m emotionally drained. I collapse on the couch.
It was midnight when we got the grim news that still causes me to shudder when I think about it. It’s news nobody wants or expects to ever hear.
Denise and Bo were among the 58 shooting victims. I was numb. It was too surreal to fathom. How could she be gone? She had just gone there to listen to country music, how could somebody purposely take a gun and start firing at innocent victims? And how could my best friend be one of the people in the direct line of fire? Out of all the thousands of people there, why did it have to be her?
Denise’s death had a huge impact on me. I wasn’t prepared for the loss. But, then again, I don’t know if anyone really is after a mass tragedy. There’s no preparing for the roller coaster of emotions to follow.
In the weeks and months following Denise’s death, my home became eerily quiet. Denise’s favorite chair where I’d find her on any given weeknight sipping cabernet and watching Wheel of Fortune suddenly looked out of place in my once lively living room. In the two years Denise lived
128 with me, Roxy and Gigi had come to know her as a second mom. From the moment Denise moved in, it was an instant feeling of comfortability.
Gigi especially took solace in Denise’s lap, never missing an opportunity to find refuge the moment Denise would sit down.
Roxy and Gigi knew something was not right. Especially Roxy, who had always been keenly aware of human
129 emotions. But it wasn’t until this moment that I realized just how intuitive this spunky little Chihuahua/Dachshund mix would be.
I found Roxy at a local shelter when she was just 1-year- old. She was a spitfire. She was 11 pounds, with big brown eyes, a long lean body and a prominent torso. As I walked through the shelter peering into the enclosures, my gaze is returned by a few dozen dogs all hoping to find their forever homes. I make my way to a kennel where a dog sits in the lap of one of the volunteers. She’s the only dog in the enclosure not barking. “You won’t find a better dog than this one,” the volunteer says as the dog follows her gaze toward me. “Oh, really, I say, why is that?” “Watch,” she replies back. She takes the dog from her lap and puts it on the ground. Immediately the dog, who is not a slight teacup chihuahua but a pretty good-sized small dog leaps into her lap in a manner that looked like she was shot straight up from a cannon. I laugh. “Wow, impressive,” I state. “This dog is the reason I come here every day, if I didn’t live in an apartment, I’d take her home myself.” The dog’s super-canine ability to jump straight up and down like a grasshopper was albeit cute, and I knew would provide some stellar entertainment, but could I bond with this dog, and would this dog bond with me?
Ever since I was a child, I knew I was meant to be a dog mom. For circumstances beyond my control, I was never able to have a dog growing up. Before long, I grew up and had the freedom to make my own choices. There was college, then my first apartment on my own. Before long, my 20s flashed before my eyes. I moved around a lot due to the nature of the news business. It never seemed to be the right time to bring a dog into my world. Once I hit my 30s, it was all about re-establishing myself back in the Golden State. By the time I hit the ripe old age of 38, I was at the forefront of planting some roots.
130 I bought a condo in Carpinteria, a small seaside town located 12 miles south of Santa Barbara. The condo is walking distance to the beach, and the Carpinteria Bluffs, a 2.5-mile nature preserve with lots of open space and walking trails overlooking the Pacific Ocean. A perfect playground for 4-legged adventure seekers and their human companions. Beyond being in a prime location, this condo, had a unique bonus feature. A built-in dog door. A door that led from the kitchen to the patio. I knew it was a sign. The time had come. I was ready to welcome a dog into my life and into my heart.
Back at the kennel, the volunteer is giving me her best sales pitch for why this enthusiastic chiweenie is the right dog for me. She asks if I want to hold her. “Sure,” I said. She picks up the dog and opens the kennel, bringing her over to where I stood. I reach my arms out as she gently places her in my grasp. What is her name I ask? Lola, she responds. Lola’s big chocolate brown eyes fixate on me with an eagle eye stare. Her ears stick straight up like Spock, the Vulcan character from Star Trek. It’s clear her sense of awareness is sharp as a tack. Her big chocolate brown eyes scan my face with intrigue and trepidation.
After all, I’m a complete stranger to this dog. How bizarre to have someone you don’t know come and suddenly just pick you up. But she seemed content in my grasp. Her eyes carried a sense of depth I hadn’t recalled seeing in any dogs I’d been around before. She quietly studied my face as if she were interviewing me for the job of her caretaker. It only took but a few minutes, but I knew this little astute dog with her spock-like ears, and her Mexican jumping bean bounce was the perfect dog for me. “I’ll take her,” I said.” “Are you sure?” the volunteer quipped. “Usually people come back, 3, 4, sometimes 5 times to confirm.” “No,” I said. “I’m sure.” Hands down, it was the easiest decision I’d ever made. And I would come to learn, it was the best decision I’d ever made.
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It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving, 2012 when I picked Lola up from the shelter. It had just started to rain as I got to the shelter and put her in my car. I started the engine and turned the windshield wipers on. Swish, swish…swish, then the barks began. Lola was clearly not a fan of the rain, but more so, the windshield wipers. It was a pretty eventful ride home. But we made it. She cautiously walked into my condo, not sure what to expect. She smelled every corner of every wall, she walked through the kitchen, the dining room and finally made her way to the new bed I had picked up for her. She still had her blanket from the kennel. The first order of business was to anoint this little chiweenie with a new name. Lola was already a well-worn name in my family. Lola was both the name of my maternal and paternal grandmothers. It was also the name of my sister’s 4-pound Maltese. There was just no more room for another Lola in our fam. Roxy was born.
Over the next few years, Roxy and I established a nice relationship with each other. I knew what she liked to eat, how she liked to be pet, and what her favorite types of toys were. She had a friendly easy-going nature that made her popular among other dogs at the park. On our frequent walks throughout our neighborhood, she greeted every
132 dog with a hearty tail wag and a friendly sniff. Every so often she would meet a dog that she just could not bond with, but those dogs seemed to be few and far between.
Roxy was also highly alert and intelligent. She had the hearing of a hawk. Nothing seemed to ever get past her. Her wet nose pressed up against my living room windows left an artful display of smudges like paint on a canvas. My couch pillows once fluffy and tall, had lost their crisp shape under her weight. And don’t let me get started on her hair. No matter how much I cleaned, I’d still find traces of her straight stands of golden-brown hair in places I never knew hair could collect. It was entirely amazing to me that she still had any hair left on her body because it always seemed to be everywhere it shouldn’t. My home had become forever tattooed by nose prints, pawprints, and hair. And the truth was I loved it.
Two years after adopting Roxy, I felt that her time away from me while I went to work, might be better enjoyed if she had a companion. I was encouraged by other 2-dog owners who said a second dog provides a daily playmate and friend for life. I went back to same shelter where I got Roxy and found my sweet little shy Gigi.
After Denise died, the mood in my home shifted. The sound of laughter, music, and thoughtful conversation that once echoed beyond the walls of my abode had been replaced with a cold, quiet emptiness. Roxy and Gigi knew something was not right. But, Roxy, who was always exceptionally aware of surroundings, took great notice of the changes in the home. The most significant change that drew her attention were those that were affecting me.
My heart had become heavy, my mood sullen. I didn’t enjoy certain things that I once used to be so happy to do. Walking and hiking suddenly felt like a chore. Going in to Denise’s room was challenging to say the least. Some days
133 it brought me respite, some days it filled me to tears. Other days it seemed as though she was still there and was going to open the door and walk in wondering what I was doing in there.
A few times when laundry day became too daunting of a chore, and the pile of bedding continued to get pushed in to a corner, I made my way to Denise’s room to catch my ZZZs. Everything had still been as it was the day she left. Her bed perfectly made. It felt comforting to sleep in there, wondering what she dreamed about when her head hit the pillows at night. It was hard saying goodbye to a person who had become such a close companion and confidante.
One evening as I sat and watched TV, I could see Roxy from my peripheral vision staring at me. While the TV was on, my focus had drifted to Denise and the overwhelming grief I was feeling. Roxy moved positions slowly making her way from sitting by my side to parking herself right on my lap. She stared into my eyes, not asking me to pet her, not licking my face, but just giving me that sense of comfort, as if she was saying, “Mom, it’s going to be okay.” Her support timing became impeccable. She learned the cues, always squeezing up to me at just the right moment when she sensed my anxiety and grief. Her eyes had become so good at giving me a signal of compassion. And sometimes she would come up and lick my tears.
Roxy’s strength and intuitive nature began to nurture my soul. The bond we shared was already a special one, but the intensity of the trauma I experienced strengthened our attachment as she helped to heal my wounded heart. Roxy and Gigi were the yin and yang. Their personalities couldn’t be more different. Gigi was slow, shy, and less active. Roxy was high energy, social, and a natural born leader. Gigi was by far the more maternal one of the two, always taking the time to clean Roxy’s eyes and ears. Roxy had clearly
134 established her dominance in the dog pecking order in my house and Gigi had succumbed to her position.
I spent the better half of 10 months after Denise’s death trying to process what had happened to her. On days I didn’t feel like getting up, Roxy and Gigi gave me that reason. Roxy’s full body shake as she thrust her 10-pound frame into the air when I said the word “walk” was worth is its weight in gold to put a smile on my face. When I knew the couch was holding me back from getting out and being more active, Roxy always knew how to inspire me to take her on a hike, with a lick or a puppy-dog doe-eyed look. No matter what kind of mood I was in, Roxy always knew how to cajole me out of my funk. Her unconditional love made me realize how lucky I was. It may sound cliché but it’s Roxy who I have to thank for pulling me out of the darkness and leading me back to the sunshine.
While my sadness did not disappear, it eventually felt less consuming. Both humans and dogs are social creatures, so the bond between Roxy, Gigi, and I evolved into a naturally symbiotic relationship. Dogs are generally friendly, trusting and always eager to please. Although I don’t have kids, I discovered a deeply maternal bond with my dogs.
Today, I reflect back on those days with a sense of gratitude. I am grateful that I had those final years to spend with Denise. Grateful for the special memories we shared. And especially grateful for the unwavering love and emotional support of my Roxy who penetrated through my pain and helped to heal the emotional scars.
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About the Author
Leana Orsua is a former television news reporter. She’s worked for news stations in Texas, Tennessee, Alabama, and California. She specialized in human interest stories. She now works in the Non-Profit sector for a cultural organization in Santa Barbara, California. Read her posts on dog stories and articles at: https://www.facebook.com/leana.orsua
136 Chapter 10 Conversations with Dog by Suzy Godsey and Yesdog Charlie
This story may sound unreal, but it is true. My dog found me through the internet. I was in Turkey at the time, sitting in my hotel working on the computer. I was not doing anything related to dogs when a web page popped up: “Hello, my name is Chipper, and I have ten days to live,” with a picture of a dog and some description I cannot recall.
I am not looking for a dog; I work all over the world, already have a rescue dog at home that I feel bad about leaving all the time; certainly, a second dog is not in the picture. But something is stopping me from hitting that little red dot that will close the page. Let me look at this website; if the other dogs here have the same effect on me, I better hit that little red button.
But no, all the other dogs are just dogs. Same ten days to live, other parts of the US, different shelters, but no unique sense about them. OK, fine, so, let me copy this picture and put you on my Facebook page. I post that I will vouch for you: You are going to be a great dog for someone, or they will get lifelong free sessions from me. I finally close the page and go back to work. This is the best I can do for you.
Well, so I thought. Two weeks later, I am sitting in the car with my dog Savannah driving to Bakersfield to pick you up. Just temporarily, until I find you a permanent home, at least that is the plan. You had other plans all along, but I
137 was still in denial. It took several failed adoptions: “What do you mean he bit your dog?” He never even growled at anything while with me. “What do you mean he pissed in your house?” “What do you mean he keeps throwing up on your furniture?”
138 After months, I semi-surrender. It is not until a year later, when Savannah finds a home, that I realized that this had been your master plan. Now you had me all to yourself! You did not mind my work (although you still make puppy eyes every time I pack my bags to go to work abroad), you did not mind the dog sitters and times apart, you had found what you knew all along when you popped up on my screen in Turkey. You wanted me and you were going to get me, no matter what it took.
So here we are. You have gifted me so much over the last ten years, and you are still a huge contribution. You taught me to trust, taught me about awareness, and showed me kindness and bitchiness all at once.
You have told me many things; you are not a dog of many words. When you talk, there is minimal vocabulary but a universe of awareness to describe, and a depth of wisdom and energy to share. That is what I am here to do. To put your energy into words; to share your wisdom. It is not as metaphysical as it sounds, it certainly is not as significant as it seems, you would say, “Stop fussing, you fuss too much!” It is about sharing a dog's perspective of stuff. Not to lecture, not to convince, but to inspire, to give the possibility to have a different perspective, to create a future where people respect animals for what they are. Beings who are sharing this planet with us, beings who are asking us to consider, asking us to care. Not from the significance of it all but from the kindness that is possible if we choose to embrace consciousness.
So, here is Charlie and his way to see and describe the world.
Conversations with Charlie on people
C: "You guys really don't get us."
139 S: What do you mean by that?
C: "You put a lot of interpretation into everything."
S: So, it is not about what is going on, but what we think is going on?
C: "Yes."
S: How can we change that?
C: "Listen. You think too much. We know things. Respect us. Accept that we know."
S: Something you taught me over the years is to trust my awareness when it comes to animal communication. It leaves so much room for interpretation. People like to have proof. You taught me that you function with different emotions than we have defined. You may act similar to human emotion, yet the energy that comes with it is never exactly that. I wish we had more words to describe what goes on for animals.
We overthink when animals communicate with us. We think they cannot know certain things, but they surprise me all the time with what they know about us and our lives.
We may think we are in charge of our animals' lives, but what would happen if we acknowledged that they also choose? That they know what they desire in life and that they are co-creators in living on this planet? What if we did not have to decide for them but ask them a question?
Like with your dog sitters, there have been many over the years. And you have always been clear. Yet sometimes it was not convenient to listen. I had to pay later every time. Sometimes literally, like that one time, you bit another dog
140 and were banned. I knew that place did not work for you, but you made sure I would never override you again.
Conversations with Charlie on food
C: "Suzy asks me what I would like to talk about. This time it is food. We are on Facebook Live. I ask to chew on a bully stick. It's about food, right? Food is gratifying. Food is fun. Food is not about killing things. It is an energetic exchange. Be present with what you eat."
S: When I got this energy from you, it blew my mind. That simple sentence about being an energetic exchange had a thousand words in it. Are you saying that if we are grateful for what we eat, we can contribute to the animal's energy that is now dead while it was still alive?
C: "Yes!"
S: It certainly does not fit into the concept of linearity. And it creates a very different reality around eating. Food in itself has consciousness. But I never thought that it is possible to go beyond linearity. No matter if the animal is dead, the gratitude you have still contributed to its life?
If eating was fun, how much food would you eat? Some of you might say, a lot more than I'm eating now. But is that true? Or would you eat less? If it was just for the fun of it? And what would you consume if it was just for fun? Again, some of you might say only chocolate. But maybe that's not true, either. Possibly there would be many other things you would be choosing if you were only eating for the fun of it.
How often do we run and eat? What if we were more present with each bite we took? What would that create for the entire planet? Would you have the same eating habits if you were present?
141 Conversations with Charlie on getting older
C: "I'm getting older. It's not pleasant. It's not significant. Just different. Don't analyze every move I make. Be here with me in every moment. Stop concluding what will be next. I am not afraid to die. I will always be here."
S: The "not pleasant" part is obvious. I know, as an owner, I would never like to have you suffer, feel bad, or worse, be in pain. You say it is not significant.
We often have a hard time adjusting to our animals' changes; if we could take out the significance, it might make that easier. That does not mean we stop caring; we might be caring more when we are willing to face everything in the present moment.
Today is not the parameter of what will show up tomorrow. Do not attach yourself to every moment your pet goes through, good or bad.
When you talk about not concluding what the future might bring, you also shared this energy of rhythm: When you live in the wild, you have your daily rhythm. You would live life according to the rhythm of nature, the rhythm of food, and rest and play. The animals living with us as pets now have a different rhythm. We are controlling it in a lot of ways. We are the creators of that rhythm. So, it's not a natural rhythm that they might choose, but at the same time, this is not wrong, just different.
What if we did not have to fix anything? If we did not have to protect our animals from pain and struggle, could we know what is required in every moment? If we recognized that animals also have a choice, could we support them in every choice they make? And if we did not have to protect ourselves from the pain of losing them, how much more present could we be in their lives?
142 Conversations with Charlie on living on Earth
C: "The Earth requires our energy. Every day, every moment, all the time. Be it and do it."
S: The way you describe this has a lot of light and fun energy to it. Not significant at all. Do you mean we should laugh more?
C: "Yes. Enjoy."
S: We should enjoy our lives? A concept that has a very different meaning in this reality than the energy you are sharing. Enjoyment in this reality means to go to the movies or the amusement park or out to dinner. But what you are sharing is an energy we can have at every moment. Enjoy ourselves while walking, talking, and working? And that is a contribution to the Earth?
C: "Yes."
S: We are taking everything very seriously. We are in charge and have to organize and control everything on this planet. You share an energy that suggests we are more playful and consider the contribution animals and the Earth can be as part of living. When we build a road or a house, we do not communicate with the Earth to see where to do the construction. We just plan and do it. We assume and decide. We are not willing to ask, maybe because we are afraid of the answer?
What would happen if we asked the Earth? Perhaps she would like to kick us off, and we just don't wish to hear that; we assume that is what she would choose by the way we have been treating her. But what you are sharing is that is Earth is grateful for us and that she has our back. We could all co-create together as a team. It is not about lesser beings and more worthy beings; it’s about knowing
143 all beings and their contribution. It is not about having power over; it's about asking questions.
Are there stupid animals, Charlie?
C: "People say chickens are stupid."
S: It's a point of view we have. It creates the justification of what we can do to them, how we treat them. It is based on our definition of intelligence, not on the animal's perspective. We create the tests based on our thinking, not on the reality the animal lives in.
Charlie, what would you call a chicken?
C: "Chicken. Different. It tastes good."
S: Oh, that is a touchy topic. Eating animals. You know, in China, people eat dog meat.
C: "You can respect animals and still eat them."
S: If we would like to have a planet where we live together, honor, and listen to each other, what would have to change? Would we have to acknowledge every living being and allow them to choose? And what would that entail? The energy you share with me is the awareness of all without concluding. What if there was no fixed point of view but a question? I have met animals that were ready and willing to give up their body for food. As I was a vegetarian for 25 years, it blew my mind because I did not desire to kill animals.
What different reality can we create where the process includes communication, honor, and respect? What if it did not have to be mass production?
144 Conversations with Charlie on bodies
C: "I am off today. I perceive people. Suzy is unhappy today. I try to help. She notices. We go outside and play. I like that."
S: Our pets perceive us and our bodies all the time. They will contribute to us whenever they can. We often try to stop that; we feel terrible about them suffering for us. But every time I ask you, you say it's fine, even if you are depressed because I am unhappy. This defies logic and understanding. You are an undefinable, endless source of energy, always contributing, never cutting off your connection. How can I receive you all the time? Without cutting anything off?
C: "Drop your guard. Touch me."
S: That makes me cry. I can perceive your kindness and contribution flowing through my hand into my body. I cannot hold onto being upset. And frankly, when being present in every moment, it is hard to hold onto any upset.
C: "Play."
S: Yes, that makes things easier. Can I be silly for no reason? At least I have the dog as the excuse for running around outside, skipping, and laughing. When was the last time you were silly and laughed for no reason? I know animals like it when we are happy! So why not choose that more?
Conversations with Charlie on behaving
C: "I love chasing. It's a great game. Running."
S: Yes, you do. I had seen you slow down many times when you were about to catch up to a rabbit, for example. In the
145 beginning, I was panicked. After all, you are a pit bull mix, and that comes with a stigma. But I quickly learned that you are not about the kill, just the chase.
Do you remember that bunny knew you were on a leash, and it teased you?
C: "Yes."
S: You would have never jerked on that leash either. You are a great leash walker. Did you know that would have been a deal-breaker?
C: "Loud and clear."
S: Sometimes I am not bright. I always wondered why I got blessed with a dog that does not pull on a leash, does not put nose prints on glass, and does not steal food.
And I am the one telling people to be very clear in their messages, so their pet will get it. It is not about the words; it is about the energy they are being. Energy does not lie. When words do not match the underlying energy, the animal will get confused. If I am very clear and unwavering about something, it becomes a loud and clear message. That is being a leader. And the pet will do what they can to deliver.
Leadership is not based on obedience. Leaders know what they desire, and they will go there no matter who comes along for the ride. Being a leader is not about doing things right. It is a vibe that animals happily gravitate towards. Charlie, when do you not listen to me?
C: "What? I always listen."
S: True, when do you not do what I ask for?
146 C: "When it’s fun."
S: So true. You keep doing what you are doing when you know I don’t care. How very smart of you.
Conversations with Charlie on being away from me
C: "Not my choice. I live with it."
S: I am so grateful for Bubba, my cat of over 20 years. She taught me to stay connected with her, even when I was away. After many years of frustration by her hiding under the bed for two days after each trip, I finally asked a question. How can we change this, Bubba? She said that she had no clue who I was when I would return, and it would take her days to get used to me again. I asked her what I could do to avoid that? She said: “Stay connected.” It became clear to me that every time I felt bad about leaving, I would disconnect. So her picture became my screen saver, and every time I looked at her, I would also connect. It changed everything, and she never hid under the bed again. It helps me so much with Charlie.
C: "Sometimes, you are not there."
S: Yes, I know. It is a muscle to build. You are ahead of me on this one! What would it take to be connected 100% of the time?
C: "I understand you when you talk. Keep it simple. Explain the situation."
S: Yes, sometimes I forget how simple it is to explain. I assume you know it all. But that is not always the case. Our lives are more complicated than you would choose. So, yes, I will be even more present with you. Thank you for coming into my life.
147 What conversations are you having with your "Charlie"?
I know you have had your version of conversations with your dog! What if you trusted that they are real? Just remember, when you are overthinking, it's no longer your dog talking. Most likely, your dog desires you to be happy, thoughts suggesting otherwise are the cat’s. (Kidding)
What if animal communication no longer was a magical thing, but a well-trusted part of everyday life? What could your role be in creating this future?
148 About the Author
As a small kid, Suzy Godsey did not know what to do with her awareness of animals. She started walking imaginary dogs to 'make sense' of the information she received all the time.
When Access Consciousness came into her life, the energy she perceived as a child was finally matching her awareness and made sense for the first time.
Now, leading animal communication classes in far-reaching places all over the world, Suzy does not discriminate. Everyone and everything have something valuable to say if you are quiet enough to listen and hear.
She heads up the global classes called Talk To The Animals, continuing and expanding upon the classic book by Gary Douglas, which has helped thousands have more clarity and ease with the animals they live with and love.
149 She is the creator of the bodywork modality called ESSE (Energetic Synthesis of Structural Embodiment). It is a highly energetic process that people of all ages have come to enjoy and use with people, animals, and their own bodies.
Suzy is also the mastermind behind the global reach of Access Consciousness Live-streaming and virtual classes (online classes) since 2004.
Most anyone who has met Suzy will tell you that she is a wealth of awareness, authenticity, and empowerment. From her work with animal communication, with bodies, to the technical side of Access Consciousness, in her no- nonsense way, she brings people to know that so much more is possible.
https://suzygodsey.com/
150 Chapter 11 From Trauma to Freedom by Nancy Sommers
It’s been more than 10 years but feels like a lifetime ago.
Home was no longer a safe place. If I waited any longer, it would be too late to make the 60-mile drive to take Riley, my beloved Border Collie, to the safest most remote kennel I could find. My eyes blurred the freeway signs as tears fell. I tried telling myself we’d be back together soon. “Soon” was impossible to measure, given the level of criminal activity we were somehow caught up in. It was out of a movie and unimaginable, even to me.
151 As I drove, I searched my mind for another solution. I sang his song, holding back the horror I actually felt with what I was about to do, “Hey there Mr. Now Now... Hey there Mr. No No...hey now, hey there…” It sounds silly but for us it was the melody I made up when he was just a pup when he would test me with his wit or try doing something naughty. It was lighthearted and fun, everything but what this moment was.
As we arrived, I wondered who would actually drive out here to board their dogs. Riley’s vocabulary was extensive. He sensed something was up and positioned himself as though he wasn’t having it. With his ears back, he reluctantly exited the car. Agua Dulce is quite barren, like rattlesnake country or something out of an old Audie Murphy country western movie. At least that’s how it felt to me.
The facility was clean, with lots of land and was well designed. A young English woman, Ainsley, met us at the front. This wasn’t who I spoke to earlier, and I needed them to understand the high priority of this situation for Riley’s safety. She assured me everyone was on board and had been briefed. I divulged what I was reluctant to tell them by phone so they could understand the gravity of the situation that was forcing me to separate from my beloved boy and go to a woman’s shelter. It was imperative Riley had no contact with strangers and only my brother be allowed to pick him up.
I could feel Ainsley’s compassion and sense of understanding as she listened with her attention on Riley. She assured me he would be okay as we walked the grounds. But those words of reassurance were what they told everyone and I knew they’d never seen a situation like this. My heart ached as I hugged him tightly, whispered his song softly in his ear, and slipped away.
152 Consumed with despair and a loneliness I’d never known before; I called my source. As soon as I was back in the car, I was directed to an area of Los Angeles that I could never have imagined myself, much less following directions from someone unknown and without my dog.
The drive was intense. I felt an unnerving vibration throughout my body. I was consumed with a deep fear that I would not make it to the shelter. All I could do was hold onto faith that this was the only way to get my life back.
I was in no state to consider the irony of criminal activity that surrounded my life for the previous two years, completely unable to trust technology of any kind, including voice altering technology with the ability to copy voices. The general public didn’t know about these things and that made being believable difficult. Now I was being led into the bowels of Los Angeles by someone I didn’t know on the phone. Distraught with exhaustion, I had to trust my intuition.
All I could do was sit and wait. It was so odd not to have Riley with me—not to take him out. Our lives together had
153 a trusted rhythm, but now I had to distract my thoughts. It was just too painful. Finally, I received the call that gave my next instructions.
Once safely in the shelter, I learned that the chief of police’s wife had also been here. But that was exactly the reason they sent women like us here. It was the least likely place anyone would look.
I couldn’t begin to measure what I was feeling. As hard as I tried, nothing made sense. I lived a normal but upscale life. How did someone like me—a mom, daughter, sister, wife, friend, and a woman who only knew kindness, end up in such a situation?
Not normally Bible toting, I clung to my Bible for salvation. I truly believed I’d lived a life deserving of God's grace and I needed Him now. In shock and numb, seated with it on my lap, I can remember hearing, “Let it open and there will be my message to you.”
154 My mind was searching for something to hold onto, if only a thread. I was Christian but I didn’t know the Bible. I had no idea where to look inside for what would help me now. I let the pages fall open, believing deeply that God would give me something—something that could make sense of all this. I closed my eyes and let the pages fall open . . . Psalm 34:10—The Lord is near to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
I knew in that moment as sure as I read this passage that I wasn’t alone, I’d never been alone and that the Lord had provided exactly what I needed to survive. Riley was the bridge, an angel sent from God to carry me from trauma to freedom, so that I would one day carry the message of hope and possibility to the world.
For the first time in more than 24 hours, I was able to take a deep breath. I cried with a shard of hope. I cried, wanting answers for the pain I knew Riley was in and for the pain my family was feeling, wondering what happened to me and completely unaware of the past two years of trauma Riley and I had endured. If only I could tell them I was okay!
People are understanding more and more the value that pets add to our lives and how much we’ve come to rely on dogs for emotional support, health and wellbeing. They inspire us to the outdoors to walk and run, and they train for specific tasks to help those with mental and physical disabilities. Dogs truly save lives.
For the past 14 years, Riley has taken me from trauma to abundant freedom. He has been the wind beneath my wings and literally my heartbeat. Without expressing the truth of who we are as humans, there are moments when we have to rediscover the true pulse of our life energy. I will be forever grateful for the life force my dog provided to get me through the darkness, so that I could realize my
155 full potential on the other side of it all and shine like a beacon of light, going forward.
Unlike most people, I didn’t get Riley to be a service dog. I had come through a personal transformation with weight loss, became an NASM certified personal trainer, led marathon training groups in Los Angeles for Nike, and was training for an ironman triathlon. I had an upscale lifestyle with bicoastal homes and I wasn’t in need of another dog at all, much less a service dog.
But God knew what was to come, and instead He sent what I would need.
One day while on a training run at my home on the big island of Hawaii, I took an extra loop at the end of my run. As I looked towards some soccer fields, I caught sight of a magnificent Border Collie in motion. Not much could cause me to stop a training run, but I was taken with the intensity, the focus, and the beauty of this dog. It was as
156 though the pull towards this dog was not my own. It was powerful and it was something greater than me.
Everything about another dog was wrong. Practically speaking, I questioned whether or not it was another diversion, another opportunity to get control of my life back. I had adapted to a life that served others, giving up my power, my voice and my identity.
As I watched, I could feel a deep connection between this dog’s innate characteristics to my own energy level. In that moment on that field, I knew without a doubt this was my next dog and “this was no accident.”
I went into research mode before we left the island to go back to Los Angeles. I’d done this so many times over the years with the various breeds I collected, loved and enjoyed. This time on Border Collie characteristics, illnesses they’re prone to and then on to breeders—not just any breeder but the right breeder that bred for all the right reasons that included longevity in the blood line and temperament. I was thorough and would read reviews and engage breeders, groomers, and other sources in conversations to learn the inside scoop. There’s always an inside scoop and a carefully constructed inquiry can reveal a lot.
157 Animals have always been a part of my life and I have an innate ability since childhood to connect to them. It’s not because I’m unusual. It’s because I connect on a level that allows me to notice things other people often miss.
Riley arrived by air a few months later. We were inseparable right from the start. Not only that but very soon after his arrival, life began to change. At first, common sense things around my house weren’t lining up. We had a lovely property with electric gates for security and I’d arrive home to the front door wide open and nobody home, the microwave in the master bedroom randomly beeping in the middle of the night and the jacuzzi bathtub jets turning on. These experiences were intentionally set up and deliberately staged to begin unraveling my stability, but I didn’t know it at the time.
I would reach out to the police but nothing was moved or appeared to be touched so there was nothing to report, not even an intrusion. On several occasions, the telephone lines were hijacked, the response from police dispatch on the other end of the call were harassing or mocking me and were not actually the police.
Things were happening outside of the house too. One day, after throwing the Frisbee for Riley at a local park, we returned to the smell of alcohol in my car. Later that day, I opened my wallet to find the photo of a nude woman there. I immediately drove to the police station and discovered quickly by their questions and the way they looked from the computer to me, that my identity had clearly been changed. I had no way of really knowing what their computer said. It was the same thing at the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
The incidents began to escalate. A precision driver ripped off the side mirror of my car as I stood at an outdoor ATM. There were attempts to run me off the road, and many,
158 many other incidents. I began to spend more time away from home, often with my neighbors, but always with Riley.
During this time, as Riley grew, we were in partnership as a team. I became more dependent on him than I’d ever been with any of my dogs. He was a second set of eyes for me. His scent, hearing, and innate awareness was astonishing on so many levels. I now realized there were almost no limitations to this dog's ability to comprehend and sense my feelings and movements, sometimes even directing me before I made a move.
For more than two years, under constant surveillance and incidents covertly staged with psychological warfare, Riley was by my side, keeping me safe. He was both mentally present and also put physical barriers and blocks between me and those meaning to do harm. The authorities called
159 these situations “gas-lighting” and referenced me as a Targeted Individual or TI.
Once I heard the term, I did some research to learn more and discovered that many TI’s don’t survive the extensive cyber and in-person stalking. The covert acts make it close to impossible for most people to get help, eventually driving them to suicide.
Throughout this time, nothing was making sense about how or why anyone would want to do this level of destruction to someone else’s life. What had I done or what had I witnessed that perhaps I didn’t know? Was Riley in danger too because he was by my side?
As I navigated through this season, Riley’s training and skills were refined. He would bark on command to distract who was around us, he provided a barrier with his body to keep the wrong people back from me, he opened doors and would provide an all clear before I entered a door. He became so finely tuned that, on more than one occasion, he would steer me clear of hooded individuals behind posts and corners. If Riley disobeyed, I listened.
160 By the time Riley was nearly two years old, he was on command and able to sense my every emotion, often reacting before I did as a block. We were living in a private and prolonged war zone where flight or fight was a necessary and natural response.
As a triathlete, my mindset to persevere was strong and Riley kept me present and feeling safe. I fought through deadly rattlesnakes at the front door to my own relentless effort in faith believing that good always prevails over evil.
I became relentless in my pursuit to uncover the truth and get the help I needed to get my life back. When I couldn’t get help from the local authorities, or the Federal Bureau of Investigation I went to our then Governor of California Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver, all the way to the White House Obama Administration.
Eventually help came. The cyber-crimes unit with the secret service was where I ended up and whose directions I was following. When the authorities directed me to a woman’s shelter for safety, I was devastated, unable to find a place that would take Riley with me. But they needed me out of the situation and I had to temporarily find a safe place for him until I could telephone my brother to pick him up.
161 I remember the first woman I met after dialing 211 and being directed where to go but also being told I would not be able to take my dog because it jeopardized the safety of the other women in the shelter by exposure. It’s easier to spot a dog with a group of women, especially given my situation with surveillance.
My heart broke with the agony of what to do. I was in a state of flight or fight after over two years of targeting. All communication with my family and friends had been blocked.
So when ordered to leave my home under intense pressure by the authorities as the covert activities were out of control, the only individual in the world I could trust was my dog.
Nothing in my life, NOT even leaving my home was as unbearable as leaving Riley at the kennel that day. He was my lifeline! It was a week after leaving Riley that I had my first panic attack. I ended up at Cedars Sinai Hospital. The ER was busy that night. I laid in the hallway on a gurney, thinking about my life, how I landed here, and how shocking it was that I was lying in a hospital and my mom and daughters didn’t know where I was or that I was in a hospital at all. How strange my world had become!
When the doctor informed me it was a panic attack and suggested anxiety medication, somehow my voice suddenly raged as I knew viscerally what I needed and the only reason I was lying there in the first place. I screamed, “I don’t need meds...I need my dog!” I can still recall the surprised expression on the doctor’s face, but it was in that moment that I felt desperate for someone to understand. I needed Riley with me to survive and was not safe without him.
162 Once back in the shelter, I was able to get on a safe computer, monitored by the government to access resources. Shortly thereafter, I received a telephone call from an attorney with the Justice Department who informed me that Riley was a service dog, had been acting as a service dog, was trained as a service dog and should be allowed at the shelter. A few calls were made on my behalf and Riley and I were reunited.
The bond between a service dog and their handler, goes far beyond a normal canine bond, because this is a trained canine that has the handler’s back and has been specifically trained to mitigate their person’s life.
For that individual, the connection and gratitude take trust to a whole new level, often no one (not even a spouse) can come between. It's the equivalent to a first responder saving a life, a combat vet brotherhood or a service dog that catches a blood sugar drop for a diabetic and saves his handler's life.
What happened to me isn’t often reported by the media for the safety of our nation. Globally we are at war across the
163 internet. The special cyber-crimes units, our military, and the government must use surveillance to protect our country for the greater good. When technology is abused and falls into the wrong hands, it’s a matter of national security to monitor with a watchful eye on terrorism. For each of those, there are countless numbers of other cyber- attacks and organized crime running rampant online. Sadly, because of the covert nature of these attacks, we only hear about them when there's a presidential election or when it involves a corporation, child, or celebrity.
Because of this awareness, it became my mission to empower women and educate the world on service dogs. It is my desire to uphold the highest standards and advocate in support of handlers with access issues or those who need a service dog and compassion where emotional support dogs are concerned.
Throughout these years with Riley (who is soon to be 15), my life has been blessed and today we are safe. I always credit my survival on my athletic mindset and faith, but most of all the one that kept me present and in-the- moment, my dog.
Riley has a window to my soul that no one else has or can fully understand. My life was altered by trauma, but Riley’s loyalty and instinct lead me through fear to overcome the effects of trauma and to discover my true inner self. He inspires me every day to love more fully and to do my part to create a safer world.
164 About the Author
Nancy Sommers is a passionate visionary and dream builder with a lifelong love of animals, recognizing their innate ability to help people live their best lives. She has been an acting authority and speaker on service and emotional support dogs under Nancy Sommers International Consulting. She has acted on behalf of military veterans with service dog access issues in Washington DC, and is a Business Liaison, helping businesses and educating them to better understand the unique relationship between a service dog and the handler. Nancy is an Entrepreneur, Founder and Designer for specialty pet products with her company Service Dog Nation, as well as Host for the Service Dog Nation Podcast. Currently she is excited to be empowering women through change, helping them live their best lives, have fun, and dream! She is currently working on her new book and can be reached at www.nancysommers.com.
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166 Chapter 12 “A Dog Taught Me to Talk” How Dogs Fulfill People’s Lives by Michael Burkey
Princess, K9 Simone, K9 Hawkeye, Starbuck and Kaboom—I have always felt a close kinship with dogs.
As a young child, my inner ear canals were blocked due to environmental allergies. This condition went undetected for the first four years of my life, causing me to miss hearing beginning language sounds. My mother says I would hide under the kitchen table away from guests because I was scared not being able to understand them. The result was that I would not try to talk with people.
My parents initially thought I was learning disabled until I was correctly diagnosed at age 4 with blocked ear canals. Now today, doctors would know the reason why a young child couldn’t hear, but 57 years ago (yes, I’m sharing my age with you), that wasn’t the case. The speech therapist advised my parents to obtain a dog that would sit and listen to me babble all day. The dog would seemingly have undying interest in my attempts to talk in return for non- stop petting. The allergist, of course, recommended against the dog. Allergies were what caused the ear blockage in the first place. Fortunately, my parents listened to the speech therapist. They brought home a mixed Beagle/Rat Terrier, named Princess who sat patiently each and every day, listening to me make beginning speech sounds as I petted my special friend. So that is how a dog taught me to talk.
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In adulthood, Chief Frederick Thorsby (retired) of the Mt. Morris Police Department, Michigan, provided me the wonderful opportunity to be a Police K9 Officer for his department. With help from neighboring Police K9 Officers, I trained my Belgian Malinois, Simone, to be a Police K9. She was certified in narcotic detection, tracking, trailing, area search, building search, evidence search and obedience. A K9 Officer truly develops a special bond with their K9 whom one spends night and day training to be their partner. Not only was Simone my partner and my buddy but she was also my protector. In the dog world, they say your first dog teaches you what you need to know about dog behavior and that was true with Simone. I learned so much from her such as how a dog thinks, reacts and searches for trained scents. In addition to police work,
168 Simone was my Search and Rescue Dog trained to detect cadaver decomposition.
When I left law enforcement after 22 years of service, I worked as a K9 Security Officer at Oakwood Hospital (now known as Beaumont Hospital) in Dearborn, Michigan training and handling a German Shepherd named Hawkeye. We were trained and certified by K9 Academy in explosive detection, handler protection and obedience. We spent most of our time keeping the peace in the Emergency Department amongst family members, friends, and gang members when victims arrived with multiple gunshot wounds. The K9s also provided a needed divergence for the families of injured relatives while they waited long
169 hours in the Emergency Department waiting room. They offered great support and relief for the worried families.
There were many fond memories of working at Oakwood such as performing sweeps for explosive devices to keep everyone safe, ruling out suspicious packages as being something other than dangerous devices and escorting the Supervisor as he collected the money from the parking garage machines. We also visited the maternity ward to ensure the babies remained safe. Walking through the maternity ward was sort of like a homecoming for me, as Oakwood Hospital is where I was born while my mom worked there as a nurse so many years ago.
One evening, we were called up to the maternity ward due to a gentleman threatening the doctor with violence if he physically examined his wife who was pregnant. The doctor needed the man to leave until he could calm down, but he was refusing to leave. When we arrived on scene, the man immediately calmed down and graciously agreed to exit the hospital with K9 Hawkeye and me. As I saw the man out the hospital door, my fellow officers came up to me and questioned why I had escorted the man by myself. I responded, “I wasn’t by myself, my partner, Hawkeye was with me. If the two of you had come with me, the man probably would’ve put up a struggle. However, with Hawkeye’s calm presence, the man immediately settled down, he was able to ‘save face’ and we had a nice cordial discussion on the way down.”
The most satisfying memory of working at Oakwood was coming to the aid of a 6-year-old girl. She had been transported to the Emergency Department due to broken glass that was embedded in her arm. She was screaming due to the pain she was experiencing as the doctor tried to remove the numerous tiny pieces of glass. His task to treat her was made very difficult due to her jerking her arm back and forth. As soon as Hawkeye and I entered her room, I
170 saw the fear in her eyes disappear. She was enamored with the sight of Hawkeye. We approached her bedside, and the frightened little girl stopped her thrashing and screaming. She began to calmly talk to Hawkeye as if he was her long- time friend. This allowed the doctor to quickly and effectively, remove the remaining pieces of glass from her arm. The doctor thanked Hawkeye for the medical assist and I whispered to the doctor that my K9 Partner would be now known as “Dr. Hawkeye” (named after the Hawkeye character on the T.V. show, “M.A.S.H.”)
A large percentage of my private client base at Michigan Dog Training (MDT) are owners with dogs who are aggressive toward other dogs and/or people. My beloved and passed on German Shepherd Dog, Starbuck was very good at matching play styles with other dogs. He could play rough and tumble with hard hitting dogs and yet be so gentle with timid dogs and puppies. It’s rare to find a dog that can match the play styles of other dogs so effortlessly. Starbuck showed several formerly aggressive dogs that it was fun to play with other dogs.
I remember one client who commented that was the first play bow her dog had ever done toward another dog. Another dog, Eddie didn’t have any play buddies because
171 he tended to be aggressive toward other dogs. However, the two of them became best buds and played hard with each other even up into their elderly years.
Another family was trying to introduce a second German Shepherd Dog (GSD) to their family. However, the two of them weren’t getting along at all. So I introduced Starbuck to the picture because he had been friends with both of them individually in their previous homes. It wasn’t long before all three were playing together and now the two GSD are best of friends in their forever home.
172 Starbuck also was my Diabetic and PTSD Service Dog. I was training him to alert me to my low blood sugars to avoid a medical emergency. I also dealt with PTSD after leaving Federal Law Enforcement service. At times when I became anxious, Starbuck would come over to me and perform Deep Pressure Therapy by placing his head on my lap. His action helped me to ground myself, become calmer, and focus on his calming effects instead of the triggering situation. Starbuck has passed on now but he was instrumental in helping me recover from PTSD.
At MDT, I train many clients and their dogs how to become effective Service Dog teams. This is done through private training lessons or MDT’s Board and Train program where we train the dog for the client and then train the client to properly handle their Service Dog. We work on task training, the exercises the dog will do to negate their handler’s disability, whether that is mobility, PTSD, or Diabetes management along with Public Access obedience.
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For that, we train the dogs and handlers in retail stores, grocery stores, bus stations, airports, etc. Helping a person take back control of their life despite their disability is so rewarding. Our clients are able to live fulfilled lives and excel in their jobs fully because of their service dog.
Those with PTSD report being calmer and experiencing less anger episodes. People in wheelchairs don’t have to worry about relying on someone else if they drop something.
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Their dog under their direction can return the item to them. Children who have PTSD or Diabetes are able to excel in school with a Service Dog working alongside them. An added benefit is that it also gives the child the opportunity to socialize with their peers without the teasing that may have been more prevalent without the Service Dog. They become a star and cool in their friends’ minds because they handle and train a well-trained Service Dog. Additionally, their confidence increases because they are proud of their accomplishments with their dog. Parents report that their children now venture out of the home to spend time with friends and do activities together, whereas before they would have stayed at home, self-isolating.
One mother told me that her son with a high functioning form of Asperger’s Syndrome (now part of a broader category called Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) according to WebMD) previously wasn’t able to attach emotions to his words. However, because of the bond he formed with
175 his Service Dog, he was now able to describe what “love” meant. That is a huge step in his self-development!
Dogs also bring fulfillment to our personal lives. My dog Kaboom, a Belgian Malinois appeared in a movie called Mr. What? It was produced by Shaun and Alan Makai. Alan portrayed the star role in the movie, Mattiesko Wuopio. It’s an inspirational drama about Wuopio who had spent twenty-two years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Upon release, he encounters the stigma of having served jail time and befriends a wayward dog (Kaboom).
Kaboom had several scenes in the movie including a bite scene in which he suddenly appears and rescues Wuopio
176 from an attacker. The Makais found Kaboom and I on Facebook from the pictures I had posted of him being trained in Schutzhund (IPO) by Gustavo Sanchez, Training Director of Capital Area Schutzhund Club in Charlotte, Michigan.
In 2019, Kaboom appeared in a Chevy Truck commercial. I and my staff taught him to push the tailgate button on the center dashboard. This allowed the actor to put wood in the back of the truck. Kaboom got it on his first take! In both of these media productions, I enjoyed arriving on scene and getting Kaboom to perform the required shots quickly as time is money on a movie set.
I understand by first-hand how dogs fulfill peoples’ lives whether that is by being a family member, police dog, search and rescue dog or a service dog. There is that unspeakable bond that eventually helped me learn how to speak and provides me with fulfillment serving others. Thank you, Princess!
177 About the Author
Michael Burkey is the CEO and Dog Behaviorist at Michigan Dog Training in Plymouth, Michigan. He specializes in training service dogs and helping high energy dogs and aggressive dogs become ideal companions. Michael has been highlighted regularly on Channel 4 and Channel 7 TV News in Metro Detroit. Additionally, he has been the “On Set Dog Trainer” for movies and commercials with his Belgian Malinois, Kaboom. He is an expert trial witness, former Police K9 Officer, Search and Rescue (SAR) K9 Training Director, and Social Worker. To contact Michael, visit his website at: www.MichiganDogTraining.com
178 Afterword By Debbi Dachinger
This book came into being because I received a download, if you will. From out of nowhere, I heard a voice that said, “Produce an anthology book.” Now I have been at the helm of anthologies in the past, but had no desire frankly to do another one, just not at this time.
I asked, But what would I do an anthology about? I don’t have any ideas or passion to produce one. And an answer came immediately: “Do a compilation book about dogs.” That was it, that was all I needed to hear: “Dogs.”
I am obsessed with dogs. I adore them. I love them. I think they are the greatest creatures on the planet.
And so, this project began. I was fully on board to put out a call for authors to each write their own chapter about a dog or dogs.
I felt it would be a gift to hear from various authors on one of my favorite subjects, dogs, because at this time on the planet during such interesting times, we can all use some levity.
It was my intention that I call together people from different walks of life to express their feelings on dogs!
People from the pet industry, people who love their dogs, people who don’t have dogs but loved them just the same… anyone who had a story to tell about a canine.
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180 What I found while interviewing potential authors for the book is that people have very moving stories to tell—about dogs who saved them, dogs who healed them, guided them, changed their lives when all hope was lost—dogs they came to love more than humans, dogs who passed and left a devastating hole but had also completely and positively transformed them—dogs who needed saving, and hilarious, wise pups. So many stories to tell and share!
I wanted as many points of view as possible to be told about dogs. Dogs so selflessly give so much all the time and are loyal and wonderful. It was time for dogs to have their day, and their own anthology book!
Their unconditional love is like nothing else we will experience anywhere else, at any other time.
I believe we have succeeded in this compilation to tell various stories from different perspectives—human, dog, healer, helper, life traveler and companion.
If you’ve ever wondered about a dog’s place in your life, maybe it is time to rescue one? I highly recommend if you do that you find a wonderful trainer to work with you and your new dog initially, as it will change your journey and relationship with the pooch, including how you both behave going forward. Working with a trainer is sure to set up an easy and effortless relationship.
If you do not have the home or conditions to care for a dog, then consider donating to a dog organization. So many require our help. $10, $100 or more will make a tremendous difference.
10% of the proceeds of this book are donated to Cuddly Canines, a 501(c) nonprofit organization that rescues pregnant dogs from the street who are about to be euthanized with the pups inside of them. Cuddly Canines
181 goes to the kill shelters and rescues the dogs, fosters them to fantastic, thriving homes and two months after the pups are born, everyone including the mom are adopted. A happy ending for all. They work tirelessly and with great heart. It is our honor to support them and their wonderful work. https://www.cuddlycanines.com/donate
A special thanks to my friend and collaborator, Viki Winterton, who I consider to be a genius. This book and others I have published, would not have been made without her continued exceptional help and expertise.
A heartfelt thank you to all the authors who heard the call and felt stirred in their hearts to contribute. This book is because of you.
And for my Shelby dog who has changed my life forever more. We are so intertwined; I literally cannot imagine my life or day without her.
Much like other dog people, even if I go away for a much looked forward to vacation, it is fraught with missing her. My dearest friends who I connect with on the regular, are all her aunties and uncles. They all have unique relationships with Shelby, and she’s often the recipient of their treats and gifts.
My hope is that something in this book has touched you and perhaps changed you for the better. May you be blessed and know you are never alone.
May all our lives always be filled with wonderful dogs. May we continue to heal them and they us, and have the most positive, symbiotic relationship beyond our wildest dreams. Woof.
—Debbi Dachinger
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