More about *What You Pretend to Be. In that post I got a comment that jogged this experience from memory.
First, I hope you are all familiar with the work of Abraham-Hicks. If you are, you know there is a lot of focus on focus. “You get what you think about whether you like it or not.” Their concepts have later come to popular light in “The Secret”. Somehow their bit in the “revised for sale” version is missing but I suppose that is another story entirely.
Anyway, I came across their work several years ago and while I was integrating the concepts I had this experience.
My cat Sunny didn’t come right home for breakfast one morning and that was very unusual. I was worried. Finally he literally dragged himself through the door practically in pieces. His nose was gone, a black hole in its place, his jaw was torn to bits and the rest of him was just a mess with scrapes and scratches and torn out claws. It looked as if he’d been caught in a fan belt judging by the perfection of the cut that took his nose. I had been working a lot with the concept of paying no attention to that which I don’t like and seeing only what brings me joy and happiness – focusing on what I was desiring rather than what is right there in front of my eyes. It’s good I was working with all that because I’ll tell you, when Sunny came home that morning I was not liking what I was seeing AT ALL. So I immediately started seeing him whole and well and as my perfect beautiful kitty. Of course I had to pretend.
I took him to the vet, my least liked vet after calling about 5 others who were out of town (these circumstances seem made to order to test every single area of your endurance) and he said there was nothing he could do really unless I wanted to put him under to clean him up and see what exactly there was to work with. I didn’t want to traumatize Sunny any further so I just took him home and prayed. I was still seeing him well and whole.
He couldn’t eat or drink at all and the next morning he was curled up in the corner of the closet dieing. I emailed my entire dolphin pod (the AC’ers/healers I went swimming with dolphins with – story in Best Friend Best Teacher) with an urgent call for healing.
TWO HOURS LATTER Sunny was out of the closet and drinking water. The next day he was able to eat. Not much later I noticed he had a nose again! Where it came from I will never know!!! And 2 weeks later you would never know that he had ever had any problem at all.
Where are the “before” pics when you need them!!! If I had really believed in miracles I would have taken them and got written documentation from the vet, but WHO KNEW!
So, in short, I want to encourage you all to see with your desire rather than your eyes and get comfortable with this pretending thing.
Best Friend Best Teacher
How I became a Life Coach, Intuitive Communicator, Reiki Master and Ordained Minister offering compassionate consultations with all species.
A true story by Trish Scott
Who’s running the Asylum???
It really started the day I locked him in the bathroom so he wouldn’t hurt himself or the house while I was away at work. Alfie, my rescued Anatolian Shepherd, was suffering horribly with separation anxiety. He simply went berserk every time I went to work. New destruction awaited me every time I came home. I wasn’t gone more than 13 or 14 hours a week but that was more than enough time for him to go through knick knacks, library books and the reading glasses sitting atop them, grains and beans, wooden spoons and anything sitting on counters or tables. Anatolians are huge and can reach anything. With an open floor plan and open shelving I didn’t have a prayer of keeping him out of anything. My large crate was to small for him and even if I trained him to it I was afraid he would hurt himself trying to escape once I left the house. One time in desperation I had forced him into the car (he knew something was up) to keep him from tearing apart the house. Thank goodness he didn’t tear apart the car, but he refused to get in the car again. Though still a puppy just a bit over a year old, he weighed about 100 pounds so his refusal was tough for me to override. The bathroom seemed my only remaining hope. One day I cleared everything out of the bathroom and left him there for the 4 hours I was at work. When I got home I could barely force the door open. What could be blocking the door? Kindling. He had reduced the molding around the door and floor to kindling. He’d made some progress on the drywall and one of the built in shower shelves was history.
That’s when I typed, “pet psychic” into google.
Now you might think, hello — it’s time to get rid of that dog. All I can say to you is, have you ever fallen in love with a stranger across a crowded room? I have and he was a little brindle dog around six months old with uncertain parentage and legs that resembled tree trunks. It’s just way bigger than logic.
So my google search resulted in several names and I emailed all of them:
I got your address from Penelope Smith’s website and hope you can help.
My dog Alfie (Anatolian Shepard 13-14 months old, a rescue dog I got at about 6 months) is the sweetest boy in the world but tears my house apart every time I leave…
We need help! I’m a prisoner in my own home and Alfie is a slave to this panic (I think it’s panic).
This was my reply from Marta Williams, the first to respond:
I have helped people with this problem with their dogs and think it is worth a try. We need to talk by phone……
I sent the same message to the Anatolian Rescue lady. She replied;
It sounds like your dog has separation anxiety. Its pretty common for a rescue dog to behave like this. Its something that “can” be fixed but it will take some time and effort on your part….
I had exactly four days in which to fix this problem because no matter what I had to leave the house again in that time. I did correspond with the rescue group, found a lot of wonderful and helpful people there who were ready and willing to help but all in the old paradigm, i.e. time and effort.
So I talked to Marta that evening, a Saturday. She had no guarantees. She would have a chat with him that night and I would call her back in the morning for the results of her consultation. $70.00. OK. Cheaper than the X-Large crates I’d been pricing by far. A drop in the bucket compared to the destruction that had already taken place.
By morning, before I even talked to Marta, I “knew” I wanted to learn to do what she does. I “knew” a lot of stuff. Everything was going to be fine. So we talked. She told me how he felt about his behavior, “I know I’m a mess”. I nearly died at that sentence. He is most defiantly NOT a mess. He just has this one little problem. Anyway she recommended about twenty things I could do to help him. Flower essences, meditation, massage, energy work, talking to him while I’m away, change to a raw food diet and things I’ve probably forgotten by now. I said ok and did it all. I also signed up for her beginning animal communication class.
On Thursday I went to work and came back to a house that looked like a dog had been left alone for awhile rather than like a house where a lunatic had been let loose on a bad day. There were about 2 things on the floor that had been on a table. IT WORKED!!!
Stay tuned for Phase II
Alfie Passes the Baton