Dixie, the miracle dog; part II
Remember Dixie the Miracle Dog? (If not, see May 2010 Spirit of Maat or DixieTheMiracleDog.com). Short version, Dixie was shot in the throat by a neighbor, left to die in the freezing weather, saved by her owner, survived weeks of uncertainty for her life, and ultimately regained her health. After the doctors had just told Mae, her owner, “We don’t know if she’ll ever walk”, during her first week home from rehab, Dixie began taking her first steps. Coincidentally, Dixie had also received a huge dose of energetic healing called Integrated Energy Therapy® during that time.
Here it is more than two years later, and we were visiting Mae and Dixie and renewing our friendship. Deep in the Adirondacks, it is lush, green, sometimes wet and very different from the dry desert of Sedona where we live. So this was a treat for us to be in this beautiful place, and to be with such loving wonderful beings.
I had been trying to work on an article one afternoon, when Mae and Dixie came by the house where we stayed.
“Why don’t you come for a walk with us? I promised Dixie we could walk a little bit in the woods. She’s really looking forward to that,” Mae said.
Dixie was getting along very well. She walks and runs like any other dog. She just does it her way. Kind of a hopping rocking horse style. Front legs together first. Then back legs together. Repeat until you are where you need to be. It works for her.
As we began to walk, Mae explained that Dixie’s health had been additionally compromised after healing from her gunshot wound. She had contracted heartworm, a sometimes deadly parasite. It left her somewhat weakened, but again, this miracle dog survived where others have not.
We began walking through some plants that brushed our ankles. The floor of the forest was covered by them. When asked, Mae said, “Well, these are poisonous parsnips. You can eat the root, but the leaves are poisonous if you are sweating and the leaves contact your skin. They can actually eat away at your skin. My brother in law has a hole on his arm where he came into contact with them.”
Oh great. Just what I needed to feel comfortable about this walk. I wondered if it was like poison ivy where if you even touch your clothes that have brushed the plant, you can have a reaction. But Mae kept walking, and I figured she lived here, so she must know what she was doing.
Passing through the poisonous parsnips (sounds like a bad poem!), we then were more in the actual forest, where trees grow closely together, and sunlight comes through in small places.
Mae said, “I put up ties around trees so I could find the path. See the ties?” I saw the ties. I looked around, but didn’t see a path. Everywhere I looked, it looked the same to me. Sometimes a patch of dirt. Sometimes lots of vegetation. I didn’t see a path.
“You call this a path?” I blurted.
Mae paused, but then kept going. She’s very even keeled. “Well, it looks different at different times of the year. For cross country skiing with the leaves off the trees, we really need the ties.”
I thought, to myself, “Even with the leaves I need the ties!” But didn’t say anything.
As we walked, my chest began to get tighter and tighter.
I have gotten lost in the wood before. With people who said they knew their way. I didn’t feel good about those experiences. They brought up memories of my mother saying, “Don’t go into the woods. You might get lost.” And more things like nightmares of not seeing my way out of things.
I can’t say I felt fear. But I did think that was why my chest felt tighter and tighter.
We walked in single file. Mae, Dixie, me, then Leon. Dixie bounded around, dashing here and there. Falling, tumbling, picking herself up and happily charging ahead.
We passed a fern grove in the tall trees. Now there was absolutely no path. Just huge ferns everywhere.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” Mae asked.
It was beautiful. But my breath was so short, it caught in my chest. I couldn’t enjoy much of anything right then. My body was tense. My chest hurt. My breathing was tight. What was going on here?
It was right after the fern grove that Dixie dashed off to the right. Hopping over a log, then sticking her nose deep into the place beside it. We thought she was just happy and playful at first, and then we realized something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
She began twisting and turning. Dropping and rolling. Not making a sound, just frantically trying to get away from something. As she shot past me, I saw large insects all over her back. She had stuck her nose into a bee hive and the bees were attacking her.
We tried to grab her and brush them off. She was rolling frantically as one tried to crawl into her nose. Another into her ear. Another deeply into her fur in the back of her neck. She must have already been stung in the face several times, but all we could do was brush the bees away.
I was worried that with her compromised health, the bee stings might cause a huge reaction. Possibly anaphylactic shock.
Mae said, “Come on everyone. Let’s keep going!” And moved forward.
I thought, aren’t you worried about your dog? What if the shock comes on? Are we going to carry her back to the house? Would we have enough time to get her to help? Is this the right thing to do?
And I stopped, trying to decide.
Mae looked at me and said, “You have to make this out to not be a big deal. That way she doesn’t take it on.”
And I understood what she was trying to do. Not imprint Dixie with more trauma. Just shake it off. You’re fine. But was she?
Now all my concentration was on Dixie. Watching her for reaction. Observing her behavior. Analyzing what I was seeing with what I knew she was like. Comparing.
She seemed a bit stiff, but she kept going for awhile. Then we decided to turn around. We went back the way we came. Following the ties on the trees. Single file with Mae in front, then Dixie, then me, and last Leon.
Dixie didn’t stray from the so called path this time back. She pretty much stayed with us. And began panting. She didn’t seem to be in distress, just laboring a bit. Mae thought that her heart was weaker as a result of the heartworm.
My chest didn’t feel tight any more. My breathing was normal. I didn’t feel anxiety, fear or concern. I noticed that, but didn’t figure it out until we came out of the woods.
As Dixie saw the back yard, she began to run toward to the house, in her rocking horse fashion. She was fine. She really was fine. If she was going to have shock, she would have had it by now. As I watched her run, I realized what else had happened. She had chosen not to take on any trauma from this incident. This incredible dog that survived a shooting, subsequent recovery, heartworm, and now bee stings simply chose not to take on the trauma. She chose to shake it off and just be a dog. I could tell by the happy way she ran back home. Panting all the way. Exhausted by her big walk. But happy to be home.
With that tightness gone from my chest, I realized I too had shaken it off. Even if the tightness was the result of my previous imprints, it was gone now.
There was something else I realized. That tightness was a warning signal. I have precognition, and I feel things in my body before they happen. Sometimes in my stomach. Sometimes in my heart. Sometimes in my being. This tightness, and shortness of breath was exactly what Dixie experienced when she was stung. What I felt was a warning system, not just my stuff. Oh boy. How many more times do I need that reminder? What will it take for me to understand that not everything I feel is always my stuff???
Thank you Dixie, the miracle dog for being my teacher, once more! And thank you Mae for your understanding. You both taught me today to shake things off, and you taught me to look for more options for what I notice. Not to jump to a seemingly obvious conclusion, but to look at all possibilities. To trust my body and my warning signals. You are truly my teachers.
For updates on Dixie, check out DixieTheMiracleDog.com.
Phoenix Rising Star
Phoenix Rising Star is co-director of HeartWalk: Healing and Training Center in Sedona, AZ. She and her partner, Leon, are Master Instructor Trainers for the Integrated Energy Therapy® modality, that gets the ‘issues out of the tissues’. Phoenix and Leon are also facilitators for Awakening the Illuminated Heart®, Drunvalo Melchizedek’s workshop that has succeeded the Flower of Life. www.PhoenixRStar.com