rei·ki •ˈrākē • noun
a healing technique based on the principle that the therapist can channel energy into the patient by means of touch, to activate the natural healing processes of the patient's body and restore physical and emotional well-being.
I knew I needed a serious intention in order to help make this therapy worthwhile. So when the reiki master asked me what MY intent was before beginning the session … all I could think to say was, “I need to overcome my fear of puppies.”
Here’s the current poop on Shadow the Malamute … she’s still crapping all over my world like an evil, Stephen King-gone-mad, Playdough Factory.
The lacerations about my fingers and arms–in various stages of scabbing over–resemble those of a blind, Ginsu Knife-handmodel–one which never quite cut it well enough to make the midnight infomercial cast.
All we wanted was a tiny bit of Disney to color our average world. To walk into the movie poster–as a couple on a beach, their faithful dog, politely not obscuring the scenic beauty with a pile of feces. Dogs don’t poo in Disney flicks.
Instead, we got an extra anus in the family, to follow us everywhere, wagging its little brown eye with a wry wink and a giddy grin.
Underlying everything I’ve felt the past few weeks, is my classic fear of commitment. Having Shadow in my life, means a loss of freedom; a permanent change of life for at least the next decade or more. No more watering a few plants and shutting the house down for a couple of weeks with no other cares.
So yeah, I went through a pretty crazy stage of Puppypeeinsidehouse syndrom. My precious oak floors; as well as my aloof and flighty lifestyle; were in jeopardy. So I had some energy work done; I built a better fence; I found a tastier chew toy; and we have started to see the joy of having our little Shadow, in our lives.
It is more of a dance, than a walk in the park though. It’s something I’ve almost forgotten how to do … almost. But as I pull dead things from her clinched teeth during our walks; as I fret when she wants to lead me off the curb into traffic or attempts to fly out the truck window on a long drive home, because she sees an antelope a mile away on the prairie; I have to smile and recall the fact that this isn’t my first rodeo with a puppy, nor my first waltz with a wolfy little Malamute.