Dog food… um… leftovers
From my Poodles:
“Rinds, Rinds, Cucumber Rinds.
They’re really just not sublime.
We leave them around
The house till they’re found!”
Thursday 13!
1… Tongue. I actually made up a whole different set of lyrics sung to the traditional Christmas song “The Twelve Days of Christmas” that included “loves with licking.” Molly has *always* had a problem holding her licker.
2… Curly black locks. For years, Molly’s fur was dry and brittle, but since I’ve switched her over to the Raw Food Diet and she gets a hunk of bloody meat each night, her fur is as soft and springy as it was when she was a pup!
3… Supper. Molly recognizes the day’s meal as “Supper,” and gets all kinds of dancing around excited at the mere mention of the word! Of course, right now, I’m puppy-sitting for both my Mom and my Brother, so then the whole pack of six burst out in a barkfest demanding “Supper.” It’s a word used only once per day around our house!
4… Blindness. The one thing I wish I could figure out how to “fix” now for her. We’re on the right track with the recordings, but I’m gearing up for a fifth round of recording for her to see if we can speed things up a bit. She can’t see any more and it just breaks my heart, since we can’t play ball any more. I have to confess, though, that this one little thing is why I admire and respect Molly so much, though. She doesn’t let that not seeing stuff slow her down AT ALL. I wish I could be so brave!
5… Laps. My lap, ahem! Pardon me! Her lap is, for the most part, kept free and clear for her to enjoy when I’m home. My Mom gave me this little comic strip when I first started getting into the Computer Geek scene. It showed a dog talking to a cat, and both were sitting at the feet of a lady with a laptop in her lap. The dog says, “That used to be my lap.” That was such a terrible joke. It’s not funny at all. But it does skip through my head when I’m home and even briefly consider working on my computer without Molly in her/my lap.
6… Patience. Normally, I wouldn’t even consider patience one of the things I’d mention about Molly, but I gotta admit that I don’t know if I’d have her patience for waiting for me to get home from work.
7… Allergic to Chicken. What?? A dog allergic to chicken? Yup, sure enough. Tested with a QXCI machine and everything!
8… Doghter. Molly is, in the truest sense of the name, my real doghter. She holds the same position in my life that others consider their human girl children hold. But you wanna know a secret? I didn’t have to wait for 30 years for her to grow up enough to become my best friend. She was my best friend right from the get-go!
9… Mentor. For the whole of the decade Molly has been with me, she’s also been my mentor. Once, she told me to, “Not be so attached to time.” It took me a full year to understand what she was trying to convey. And when I did finally “get it,” I couldn’t share the full meaning behind it because it’s a little bit different for each person.
10… Waving paws. When I met Molly for the first time, she was a wee little puff of black fluff, about the same size as my fist. What a cutie! I knew I was Chosen as Hers when that little fluff stood on her hind legs and waved her front paws at me. Everyone all together now: Awwww! ::sniffs, tear::
11… Clear Communicator. Other dogs just look at you and hope you’re bright enough to understand that you need to listen to them telepathically. Molly, however, knew that I had forgotten, but wasn’t deterred at all by it. I *completely* understand many of her “words,” as she’s trained me well. A good solid snot flinging snort, for instance, means, basically, “In your wildest dreams.” Whereas just a light, breezy, not snotty, but sneezey snort simply means, “No.” However, “Aeer Aeer Aeer” clearly means, “Yes.” You see? She’s a brilliant communicator!
12… Canine. I suppose I should mention that Molly is, in point of fact, currently in the form of a dog. A toy poodle, who’s not quite up to the ideal AKC registered toy poodle best of breed standards. But she’s *absolutely perfect* in every way possible, as far as I’m concerned. I thank my parents as often as I can for gifting me with my Doghter, Molly.
13… Snuggly. The best part about Molly is, of course, saved for last. It’s completely selfish on my part, though she enjoys the snuggling I give and take. She’s so snuggly soft and just the right size for snuggles!
Links to other Thursday Thirteens!
(leave your link in comments)
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
“It’s Just a Dog”
If you read my blog here on FurHeads.com and have looked through my products, you can probably tell I’m a “dog person.” The whole reason these products exist in the first place is purely from searching for something to make my own Molly pup feel better. I tried very hard to create products for felines and equines, and am working on products for other animals, but Dogs truly hold my heart.
In trying to share with others the place that Dogs hold in my life, I often stumble with the words and can’t really express reality. I get partially there, but the words I use, no matter how true and correct, simply don’t do the feelings justice. Someone else also tried to share their feelings with the world about their Dogs, which I’ve placed below my own musings about Dogs. Where the author did a good job, I get the feeling that even this noble effort to express the remarkable place a Dog holds in the life of a “Dog Person” is just not quite there. If the right words and combination of syllables really did form, everyone I spoke the words to would instantly become a “Dog Person” purely to feel, first hand, the limitlessness in every feeling that is felt when expressed to and from a Dog. Some day, perhaps, I’ll find the right combination of words to share who Dog is in my life and why they hold that place. Until then, I’ll have to stumble through some more and be content in my own love for Dogs, regardless of how badly I’d love to share the love.
I recently received this in email, and the author is marked as anonymous. If you know who the author is, please ask them to contact me and I’ll credit this wonderful piece of heartfelt documentation properly.
It’s Just a Dog
From time to time people tell me, “Lighten up, it’s just a dog,” or, “That’s a lot of money for just a dog.” They don’t understand the distance traveled, the time spent or the costs involved for “just a dog.” Some of my proudest moments have come about with “just a dog.”
Many hours have passed and my only company was “just a dog,” but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by “just a dog,” and, in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of “just a dog” gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day. If you, too, think it’s “just a dog,” then you will probably understand phases like “just a friend,” “just a sunrise,” or “just a promise.”
“Just a dog” brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. “Just a dog” brings out the compassion and patience that makes me a better person. Because of “just a dog” I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.
So for me, and folks like me, it’s not “just a dog” but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past and the pure joy of the moment. “Just a dog” brings out what’s good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day. I hope that someday they can understand that it’s not “just a dog” but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being “just a human.”
So the next time you hear the phrase “just a dog.” just smile…. because they “just don’t understand.”
- Anonymous
My Doghter, part 2
First, what did I do with my hands and how do I do it again?
My first question was the burning question in my mind. What did I do with my hands and how do I do it again? It seemed to me that, if I could duplicate those feelings and mind-set, I could repair the eyesight and the tummy problems and the fur problems and the general ill-health problems. With hands that could help Molly feel better in three days or less (and that tummy problem never came back, by the way), I should be able to repair ANYTHING.
I still think I can repair ANYTHING.
I discovered, (thank you internet!) that what I was doing instinctively with my hands is called by many names. Names like Reiki, Quantum Touch, Qi Gong, Pranic Healing, LightWorking, Energy Working, Hands on Healing, and the very auspicious Channelling God. It was something I had never even let myself dream of doing. It makes sense, now that I’ve been doing it for several years, that it would just automatically come to me during that time with Molly. My little Molly holds a piece of my soul that shapes things in my life. I choose to do things based on what I think Molly would think of them. I’m sure you’ve read the little plaque in stores that reads something like, “Please help me to be the person my Dog thinks I am.” Well, I take that into consideration. I really *try* to be that person.
I recalled being able to “hear” the thoughts of animals when I was young, but being in a particular religion ruined it for me as I grew up. I felt I had to shut it down so I could be “accepted” and no longer be “ostracized.” That was the worst mistake I ever made. I take solace only in the fact that I was a child and didn’t understand the repercussions of giving up my ground. If someone tries to ostracize me now, I *do* stand up for what I believe and feel and hear and see. NO ONE will take it away from me ever again. I figured that the first place I needed to start was to relearn what I had forgotten – how to LISTEN to animals. How to “hear” telepathically. I found a wonderful teacher, Morgine Jurdan (www.communicationswithlove.com), who swiftly reawakened my memories. You know how strongly I feel about this ability and keeping it…
So, in keeping with trying to be the person my Molly thinks I am, I signed up for a class in Quantum Touch. It was close, it was the first one offered, and it also seemed to be the most swift at delivering success. I was quite pleased with the class after I’d taken it and decided to use it to help Molly’s eyesight. To my horror, it got worse! I figured that either I wasn’t doing the Quantum Touch right or I just wasn’t powerful enough. So, I learned another.
It happened to be Reiki – Usui Reiki. There are three levels of Reiki and I took all three to become the strongest I could, to help Molly get her sight back. To help her with her fur, to help her just feel better. It worked for her eyesight and the other things I was focused on, but then they’d all gradually fall back to our starting point. I was so glad to discover that at least we weren’t going backwards! I combined the two modalities together and got better results, with the rate at which we retreated back to start taking longer. Again, I assumed I wasn’t strong enough. So, I learned another.
This time, I learned Pranic Healing. Unlike the other two, Pranic Healing first cleanses the area that you’re working on. I liked this idea, but was warned that if I didn’t do it correctly, I could find myself taking on part of Molly’s dis-ease. Even if I did it wrong, though, I still won, because Molly would feel better! I learned it, I practiced it, I worked on Molly. I never did take on any of the blindness, and the rate that we fell back to start was also extending as I combined the three modalities I had in my “arsenal.”
Next, I started thinking maybe it was “just” a physical problem. I began mentally consuming anything and everything written about the diet my Molly was eating. What nasty stuff was I feeding my Girl?? Kibble. I was giving her what the masses feed their dogs and cats, and I was killing her because of my ignorance. Switching to a raw diet was scary for me because I was concerned that I might not have the correct levels of vitamins and minerals; I might make her worse! I kept studying while I looked at other things.
I found a hypnotherapist for myself – Wendi Freisen. I liked the delivery methods so well, I took classes and learned to do hypnotherapy myself. Along the way, I also discovered EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique), Acupuncture, and T Touch. I learned who my Spirit Guide was and learned how to Listen to her advice. I learned how to translate the images I receive and figure out what the real meaning is behind it.
Finally, after years of experimenting with different kibbles, freeze dried beef patties, frozen real food, and lots of other things, I made up my own raw food diet for Molly. It was easy and I’ve never been so glad that I did! I used the terrific advice of other people who were feeding raw food to their animals on a yahoo group (http://pets.groups.yahoo.com/group/rawfeeding). Molly’s fur changed from course, dry, and brittle to lush, soft, and springy in a matter of about two months. I’m sure you can imagine how thrilled I was!
Then came the dream from August 2007. The dream culminated all the things I learned for my Molly, to help her feel better into one focused project. The dream delivered a message from my Spirit Guide on how to create the products of this site.
You can see Molly’s before and after picture in the Dog section of Furheads.com. Her sight isn’t back, but you need to take a look at the pictures so far. In the one from the end of August, when I started playing the recording for her, you can see that her pupil is fully dialated and is bluish gray. She *looks* blind. However, when you look at the picture dated November 4, 2007, you can see her iris color again!! This is terrific news because we’re NOT falling back to the fully dialated point. It just keeps getting better. The strain her eyes seem to be under is slowly retreating and she’s coming back to health.
I learned, from all of this, that *I* am not the one doing the healing. It never was me. It was always her, Molly. I learned that, not only was I feeding her body poorly, but I was also starving her soul – and that’s really what allowed the dis-ease to become so well-seated in her body. The raw food fed her body and now I have “raw food” for her soul, too!
My Doghter, part 1
Molly is my little doghter. She has quite the story to get to this point, really. For such a wee little girl, she’s been through a lot already.
Allow me to indulge my story-telling, please, and let me take you back to 1999. Molly was three years old and just a healthy little lady – happy, energetic, loving, but I started noticing that her fur was drying out. Then, she didn’t want to eat any more, except grass. Our vet, at the time, told me to give her some pepto bismal and just watch her. I was NOT impressed with the advice, but didn’t know what else to do.
I gave her the pink stuff, but she continued to go downhill. At one point, and I feel HORRIBLE about this, she wanted to go with Mom and I to Portland. She was so sick to her tummy, she threw up in the car just before we were getting ready to leave. I cleaned her up, cleaned the car up, gave her some more pink stuff and I LEFT her with my Pa. (I still feel just absolutely horrible about that action!)
When I returned, Molly was *very* sick. I rushed her right in to the vet’s office. They did some blood work tests, and put an IV in her to make sure she was getting fluids. I had to leave her there that night and felt just miserable that I didn’t listen to what her body was saying to me. It was so clear upon my reflection! I really beat myself up about that oversight, even now, seven years later.
Molly’s blood work came back and we discovered she had some long name infection. Her whole stomache lining was infected. The vet suggested I put her down. My mind screamed at me, “NO!” Molly confirmed the, “No.” I asked for other options; they included a surgery to remove part of the stomache lining. Molly and I agreed to that one, as it was the best choice available to us at the time.
I went to work, the vet did the surgery. However, in the middle of it, I got a call at work. It turns out the infection was much worse than our vet thought and I *really* should think about just letting her go. Again, my mind screamed a strong, “NO,” and I refused. I told him I hadn’t checked with Molly about this – bring her back so I can check with her. He did what he could and brought her back. I was so shaken that I took the next three days off work.
When I got to the vet’s office and picked Molly up, she was groggy, of course. I felt a wash of relief that Molly wasn’t ready to give up and her Spirit was still strong. Our vet gave me some medication, telling me that the side effects could be loss of fur, loss of eyesight, loss of hearing, and a lot of other things. He told me that we’d need to re-evaluate after she had taken the pills.
Over the next three days, something happened between Molly and I. I gave her one pill the first day. I held her all that day and slept with my hands on her that whole night. Something was different – it was a feeling of something, rather than something I could point to directly. I gave her a second pill the second day. I continued to stay right with her all that second day. My hands were on her ALL the time. They felt tingly and hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. But always, they felt tingly. Molly was starting to feel better, and it was something, again, that was a feeling. I just “knew” it. The third day, I could see her eyes were becoming distressed. I made the call to no longer give her the medication. It was risky, but there was something more going on and I trusted it.
The third day, I stayed with her, hands on her at all times. It was an instinct that I was following. I’ve always been like that (except when I’m so engrossed in human activities that I forget to LISTEN!) – follow the instinct, as it’s generally right. Go with the gut! Molly was feeling much more herself again. My hands were more often hot and tingly than cold and tingly, and then, suddenly, the tingly stopped! I remember clearly looking at my hands for something to show up that was wrong with them. But there was nothing – they were just …normal. Not tingly, not hot nor cold, just *normal.* At that point, however, Molly got up, went to get some water and food, and proceeded to also be “normal.”
It was over the next 24 months that we learned just how bad that medication had been to her eyesight. She went completely blind. Her hearing remained fine (better than fine!). Her fur remained dry, but it remained.
Now. I had some things to figure out. First, what did I do with my hands and how do I do it again? Second, how do I repair her eyesight? Third, what is the root cause of her tummy problems, fur problems, and general ill-health?
Stay tuned and I’ll write more tomorrow examining these things!