My Miracle

So, here we go, finally.  My miracle.  I'm going to make this a long synopsis, because I'm writing a book about it!  So, if you want to hear the whole story and all the excruciating details, buy the book!

I don't think any of you knew anything about this.  I didn't like to talk about it.  I felt bad about it.  Moki and I have had issues for several years now.  When he was a puppy, something came up and the vet gave me bad advice . . . or, perhaps more to the point . . . incomplete advice.  If I would have turned in the correct direction at this point, none of the rest of the story would have happened.  But, I didn't.  Was it something lacking in me or just ignorance or perhaps some of both?  I don't know.  Thoughts of it make me feel bad.  But considering the way it all turned out, I feel like this whole thing . . . mistakes and all . . . were meant to be.

Nothing got any better and I was still trying to follow the vet's bad/incomplete advice.  I was getting desperate.  A friend told me a story that equated to more bad advice.  Since I felt desperate, I decided to try it . . . nothing else had worked to fix the problem.  Another bad, really horrible mistake.  I did something bad to Moki (in trying to correct the problem) . . . only twice . . . but, twice too many.  When he growled when I tried to pet him, I knew it was a horrible, horrible mistake, but it was too late to take it back.  The damage had been done.  His trust in me was gone.

He bit me several times after that, but I felt it was my fault for the bad thing that I had done to him.  But, we didn't trust each other any more, and both of us lived in fear of the other.  We still loved each other very much, though, despite the fear.  We lived like that, afraid of each other,  for three years.

Moki had always gotten along well with other dogs.  Then, six months ago, at the parking lot of our hiking place, a dog "attacked" Moki.  It was very brief, maybe ten seconds or less, and Moki didn't get hurt, but the damage was done, again.  After this brief encounter, Moki was now wary of other dogs.

Our neighbors had two overgrown puppies who always ran up to Moki and overwhelmed him, but he always took it.  After he got attacked, the next time he saw them and they did that, he growled and snapped at them.  Bummer.  Time passed and the neighbors gave one of the puppies away and got back a dog they had before.  "Pete" was the big puppy, and he still terrified Moki.  Every time he was around, Moki was scared.  He would give me this look of wide-eyed terror and I would say, "Let's go in," and it broke the moment and everything was okay.

One night, about a month ago, it was too dark for me to see the wide-eyed look.  Moki growled at Bandit, a friend of his, and I told him he was bad.  But, I had missed the cue . . . the look.    From what I've learned in the past month, this is called redirected aggression:  Moki was so afraid of Pete that he attacked me.  Yes, me.  Luckily I had my heavy winter gloves on.  He lunged at me and kept biting my hands.  He backed me up about fifty feet and wouldn't stop biting.  It was incredibly scary.  When the neighbor, Pete's Dad, finally whistled for his dogs to come in, it broke the spell.  Moki stopped.

I managed to get him into the house, into his kennel, with his leash still on.  He was still growling.  It was eight o'clock, and I knew I had to take him out again before we went to sleep.  I waited an hour, started bouncing his ball, and talking in an upbeat way to him.  Then, I opened the kennel and let him out.  He immediately went to the ball, like I knew he would.  I managed to get the leash off.  We went outside without the leash, came in and I put him in his kennel for the night.  He always came to my bed at night to say good-night and in the morning to say good-morning.  I was too afraid to have him do that.

I knew that there was no way I could keep him after what he had done to me.  I didn't think I'd ever get that horrible image out of my mind.  I couldn't walk him with the leash anymore . . . didn't even have the courage to put it on him.  The first thing I did was call the breeder and ask her to take him back.  She's in Idaho and I was going to drive him up there.  She refused.  I begged her for twenty-five minutes to take this dog . . . the whole time crying hysterically . . . and she just refused and suggested that I put him down.  I was devastated.

After that, I immediately started writing to every single Border Collie Rescue in the United States and some in Canada.  I told them all that I would deliver him anywhere.  Despite what had happened, I knew what a good dog he was . . . I felt certain that he could be fixed, but not by me.  I was still very, very scared of him.  The ones that answered my emails all said the same things . . . either they were already full or they couldn't accept a dog with a history of biting.  Then, that evening, I received a call and an email from a friend of mine that I had asked if he knew anyone who would take him.  There was a chance a friend of his would take and fix the dog.  I went to sleep that night elated that Moki was saved.

The following day my friend wrote and said his friend already had two dogs and didn't want another one.  Devastation again.  But, he also said that the friend would be looking around because some dog whisperer out there would want this challenge.  Well, the challenge part didn't sound good to me, but the dog whisperer part gave me an idea.  I then searched for all the dog whisperers I could find on the internet, asking them to take Moki and what a good dog he'll be once fixed.  The responses were they couldn't take another dog, or a sales pitch, or some other no.  But, one person in NJ said that she could fix the dog, but what did I want her to do with him after he was fixed.  She said to call her.  She owned an organization that got shelter dogs, rehabilitated them, trained them to be service dogs, and then gave them to autistic children.  I went to sleep that night thinking that it was a match made in heaven . . . Moki would be fixed and would go on to helping some kid.  I was very happy at the way things were turning out.

The next day, I called the woman and she said she couldn't take him.  She couldn't put a dog with a history of biting into the program.  I was devastated.  But, she kept talking to me for the next fifteen minutes . . . basically brutalizing me.  She said that she normally doesn't do this, but she felt that I needed tough love.  She said that no one would ever love Moki as much as I do.  She said that she couldn't help me if I wouldn't help myself.  Finally, she said she needed to get off the phone because she was out of breath.  I was to call her that evening.

This woman saved my life.  Tough love, indeed.  It was EXACTLY what I needed.  I got off the phone and researched EMDR therapists in Durango.  EMDR is a therapy that they give to Viet Nam vets and others with PTSD.  My ex-husband had it, and it changed his life dramatically.  It involves rapid eye movement or other stimulus that works on both hemispheres of the brain.  I knew that this would fix me.  For someone who posts on Facebook, "Don't argue for your limitations," "You can do it," "You're stronger than you think," . . . I was totally arguing for my limitations and saying that I couldn't do it.  After the tough love . . . I knew that I had to.  I found a therapist who did EMDR for PTSD and made an appointment for that Thursday, two days away.  That would fix me (not in just one session, but definitely in a short time - - EMDR therapy is not long-term therapy).  And the dog whisperer would fix Moki.  Everything was okay again.

Me and my boy.

When I called the dog whisperer back that evening, she said I sounded like a new person.  I WAS a new person!  Once I made up my mind to do this . . . well, once SHE made up my mind, I knew that everything would be okay.  I had spent the previous three days crying all day long thinking about losing Moki.  I hugged him fifty times a day because I knew that they would be some of the last hugs I would ever give him.  This woman gave me my dog back, my life back.  WHAT AN INCREDIBLE MIRACLE!!!!

Next post . . . driving to Boulder to see the dog whisperer.

And in the future . . . very possibly leaving Durango . . .

Headin' South

A good friend of mine, Jennifer, goes to Mayo Clinic in Arizona for her annual physical each year.  Last year when she told them her vertigo had "changed," they did a brain MRI and "accidentally" found a tumor on her pituitary gland.  Pituitary tumors are generally benign and fairly common . . . ten to fifteen per cent of the population have them and don't show symptoms.  So last year, she started seeing an endocrinologist in a nearby town, who put her on a couple different kinds of drugs to shrink the tumor. She had another MRI at the end of the year and neither drug worked . . . so, she had to return to Mayo Clinic for a consult about the tumor, and I offered to go with her.

We had a pleasant drive down there, although we lingered in Tuba City too long at a Native American trading post and so had to change our route slightly.  We spent the first night in Prescott, because Jennifer had been told by a psychic that she was going to move down there in a few years, so she wanted to check it out.  That first night we went square dancing in Prescott.  As in most square dance groups, there was a shortage of men, but several of the women gave up their partners and we ended up dancing almost every "tip."  It was fun.

Cactus garden outside Mayo Clinic.

The following day we got up and went to "service" in Prescott - - I can't say it was a church service, although that's close to what it was.  It was a spiritual community and the "sermon" was excellent.  In fact the whole service was excellent.  I told Jennifer that I could move to Prescott on the basis of that alone!  She agreed.  On our way out of town, we kind of got lost.  As it turned out, though, it was a blessing because we were able to see a lot more of Prescott.  It didn't take long to get back on track, though, and we were headed farther south to Scottsdale.

We met her friends in Scottsdale . . . she had edited his book and become friends.  He writes about UFOs and is somewhat of an expert.  Needless to say, it was an interesting afternoon!

The following day we went to Mayo to see her doctor.  He said the tumor had not grown at all, but he wanted her to see the brain doctor and talk to him.  She also had to take more tests.  It meant staying in Arizona longer than we had anticipated.

Since Tuesday was a free day with no tests, we decided to go to the Phoenix Zoo.  I always have mixed feelings about zoos, but this one really caters to the animals.  They have a breeding program for endangered animals and then reintroduce them into the wild.  That's pretty neat.  All in all, it was fun.  Bummer was that I didn't bring my camera, so had to buy one of those cheap throwaway kind . . . and most of the pictures turned out to be the cheap, throwaway kind, too!  Aw, well, I got a few good ones.

Can't resist a giraffe kiss!

We went to see the brain guy and Jennifer asked him about the alternative therapy she was using to shrink the tumor.  He didn't say yea or nea to that, but he said that someone had shrunk their pituitary tumor—although there was no proof that was it, he qualified—with urine therapy.  This is probably more information than you want to hear, but urine therapy is drinking your own urine!  I know it's gross, but if you look it up online, there are some really amazing stories out there.  Needless to say, however, Jennifer is REALLY hoping the alternative therapy she's using now works!!

After the last of the doctor visits, we drove to a bookstore that the UFO guy recommended to us.  Since Jennifer and I are both bookaholics, this seemed like a good idea.  Turned out it was a GREAT idea!  AFter checking out all the books, I picked out a couple of crystal necklaces, and was about ready to check out when Jennifer said she was going to have a mini-psychic reading.  Oh!  I forgot to mention that it was a New Age woo-woo book store!!  I decided that depending on how hers went, that I would have one, too.  Hers went great, so I had one, too, and it was awesome.  I can't remember where I put my notes to that session, but one thing that I remember is that she said I had to eliminate some of my criteria for a man!  What!  I didn't think I had that many criteria.  But, the really terrible part of that is . . . that my friend, Jimmy, who I call my personal Shaman, told me this same thing about a year ago!  At the time, I didn't believe what he said.  After this reading, I told Jimmy about it and apologized to him!! Serves me right not listening to my personal Shaman.

On our way home, we stopped in Sedona to have lunch with my brother and sister-in-law.  The psychic had told Jennifer to go to Sedona and walk one of the labyrinths there.  So my brother and sis took us to one.  As Jennifer walked, my brother and sis hugged me and said good-by.  I walked the labyrinth, too.  I actually love those things and walk them whenever one is around.

Jennifer walking the labyrinth.

While we were in Sedona, I had been thinking of leaving Durango for no particular reason, so I looked at a place to rent in Sedona.  It turned out to be a trailer!  The woman said, "Oh, come take a look at it, it's not really like a regular mobile home.  No, it was much worse.  Not only a mobile home, but a really crummy mobile home.  It made me sick to my stomach just looking at it.  Next!

We stopped for the night somewhere outside of Flagstaff.  And the following day, we finished driving home sweet home.