The REIKIDOGS Blog

Many people who have lost animals to “death” want to communicate with them through a channel or medium, which is essentially the work I do. When an animal has passed on, I connect through a photo in what is truly the most sacred part of my work. Relaying the messages of an animal in spirit provides comfort to the human companion who remains behind in a maze of grief and self-doubt. Animals tell me repeatedly that they hurt when we suffer this way. In every one of my afterlife consultations, for over 21 years, they deliver this primary message: release guilt and realign with Spirit. Almost all of my clients ask these questions, exposing their conflicted emotions : Does he know we did everything we could for him when he was alive? Please tell him we didn’t even see the tumor. We didn't know he was suffering. Is she upset with me because I had her put down? Did she know how much I loved her? Tell him I put him to sleep to ease his pain, not mine. Please tell her I'm sorry. Please ...

I have no kind way to say this, and I argue there should never be a kind way to say this: My name is Lisa. I am an incest survivor . I was orally raped in early childhood by my paternal grandfather. There. Said. But not done. Never done. I am thinking right now of my former writing student, M., who experienced her own emotional, unprecedented, and unexpected self and public disclosure about her childhood sexual abuse, spontaneously responding to the first half page of Alice Walker's The Color Purple. I stayed with her after class and after many more classes subsequent to that. I think we both cried though I can't quite remember. What I do remember is that in what was a blessing, I drew from my own painful experience an understanding that can be felt by only two types of people: another who has stewed in the belly of this beast or a therapist trained to work with that person. Of course I am the former. I signed on to Amazon.com and ordered for her the book The Courage to Heal, t...

I am not the only one in this household who got divorced -- the animals are also adjusting to a new dynamic. During the first few days of our altered space, upon waking, Luinigh would dash to the spare room seeking my ex-husband (whom I displaced after I learned he was dating a woman he'd recently met and was "falling in love with" while still occupying the western spot in the bed next to me as if this were a forgivable arrangement even though the divorce had been finalized, whew!). I was also not the only one shaken and shocked. Dumbfounded, all poor Luinigh saw was a room distinguished by purses hanging from an unused Tony Little Gazelle. He stopped looking on day 4. Frankie the Crested Puff has become king of the house (or so he thinks), demonstrating an unpleasant resource guarding behavior in the bed at night (we are working on modification). Ingrid remains Her Regal Highness, the one whose path no other animal may cross without permission. Me? I'm still plumbing...