By Beth Lowell

I don’t know what happened to me there, in Brutus’ kitchen. Brutus was wagging his tail and doing an excited dance, expecting to go for a walk. I could feel the pressure rise in my chest. My lips turned numb. I couldn’t catch my breath and if I’d had hackles, they would have been rising. Brutus was now confused. His ears went down and he looked at me funny.

A large black dog of unknown descent, Brutus had been adopted by Eric and Jennifer five years earlier after he was surrendered due to “some issues” with an uncle in the family. This had been Brutus’ last chance at a home. Powerfully built with a square head and only the faintest touch of dark brown fur that lined his underside, he had not been a welcome addition to the neighborhood. People were scared of him.

As his new pet sitter, I met him the day after he came home. I was
sitting in the kitchen when he came down from upstairs. He thought I
belonged there. We were pals from the start. I worked hard with him to keep him calm on walks; he became crazed at the sight of passing cars, and other dogs were also a challenge. Eric and Jennifer took him to special classes for feisty dogs where he made enormous strides, but he remained territorial and Eric and Jennifer were reluctant to introduce him to another pet sitter.

I walked Brutus over the years, off and on, through layoffs, new jobs
and a baby. He mellowed and the neighbors even allowed him to play with their dog. All was right with the world.

And then one day as I put on his gentle leader, just as I always did,
he bared his teeth at me. I didn’t register what was happening. I had
never seen Brutus bare his teeth at me before. In fact, although I’d
seen him get riled up over a passing UPS truck, I don’t recall ever
seeing him bare his teeth. I put on his gentle leader and we went for a
walk. I returned later that day to feed him dinner and take him out
again. This time, I noticed the teeth and realized that this was a
communication aimed at me.

I called Jennifer later and explained what had happened. I thought
maybe Brutus wasn’t feeling well, or had injured his snout where the
strap of the gentle leader lay against his skin. She wasn’t aware of
anything wrong with Brutus, and she put the head halter on him right
then without a problem. I asked her if I could stop by while she was
home to practice with the gentle leader to make sure he was okay with it. She agreed, and when I went over the next day I put the gentle
leader on without a problem. Everything was fine.

Jennifer laughed and said “Eric said he knew there’d be no problem.
When I asked him how he knew that, he said, ‘Brutus always pulls
through in the end, when his back’s up against the wall.’ And I told
Brutus he better shape up or he was done for.”

I wanted to be sure everything went well before my next visit with
Brutus. I started a daily practice of meditation. I balanced my
chakras. I meditated on developing fearlessness, faith and trust. I
visualized sending Brutus a healing light from my heart to his.

So now, here I was, back in the kitchen, in the middle of a panic
attack, exacerbated by the sight of a very large black dog who had
turned inexplicably into a threatening stranger. While he was not
displaying any aggression whatsoever, my panic level continued to rise. He slunk down. I tried to order Brutus to sit but my voice came out high and uneven. He sat. I pleaded with him to stay. I backed out of the kitchen feeling as though my head would pop off and gently closed the door behind me. My fingers rattled as I turned the key in the lock. I was too shaken up to think about Reiki.

I called Jennifer to let her know that I had not taken Brutus out. I
felt foolish telling her I’d had a panic attack, and like I’d somehow
let her, Eric and Brutus down and this added to my anxiety. Lamely I
told her that his baring his teeth must have affected me more deeply
than I’d realized. She was very understanding, yet I could picture her
and her husband having a conversation about me, about how I must have come unhinged. I told her I’d call her when I figured out a plan for
coming back.

I procrastinated. My schedule had become too full, as it often does
during vacation months. I barely had time for a shower, let alone the
peace and quiet I needed to formulate a plan. My friends told me to
give up Brutus as a client.

I mentioned what had happened to me in my animal Reiki class. No one else in class seemed to have an issue like mine. Though no one said anything, I thought the class probably thought I was nutty too. I
stopped talking about it at class. I asked members of my Animal Reiki Yahoo group for help. It couldn’t hurt, I thought.

Jennifer called to see how I was doing and I felt guilty for avoiding
her. I had to tell her something. I took a leap. I told her about
Reiki and my aspirations for becoming an animal Reiki practitioner. I
told her that Reiki was a Japanese healing technique developed for
people that worked on body, mind and spirit and that it was commonly used in hospitals, especially for pain management in cancer patients. Now, it was being used to help animals too. I asked if I could come and give Brutus a Reiki treatment from the deck. She agreed.

I told her that I would come to the door and give Brutus a treat to say
hello and then I would close the door, sit on the deck and offer Reiki.
I would let her know when I was finished. When I sat on the deck I felt
the Reiki almost immediately, flowing strongly from my arms. The
landscapers were next door and oddly enough the sound of the mowers and leaf blowers was not distracting. It became a comforting white noise to me. I imagined briefly the landscapers too, wondering if I was crazy, as I sat placidly amid the din, in the sunshine on the floor of the deck with my palms up. After a half hour, the tingling in my arms subsided. I went to the door and gave Brutus another treat. Still wary, I pushed Kathleen Prasad’s brochure through the door because I knew Jennifer would probably have more questions about Reiki. I didn’t yet have a brochure of my own.

I scheduled another Reiki session for the following week, but it was
raining so I postponed. I was relieved for the reprieve. I had little
hope for next week’s session. I had felt the Reiki flow, but Jennifer
had not seen Brutus respond in any particular way. Although I knew I
was supposed to assume that Reiki went where it was supposed to go, I was having my doubts. I started to think that maybe I was crazy after all. I wondered how long Jennifer would put up with my plan. I had a feeling it would be a long process.

I told Jennifer I would sit on the deck again. She wanted to leave the
back door open so Brutus would know I was there. I wasn’t ready to see Brutus. I didn’t say anything. When I got to the house on that
brilliant Tuesday morning I felt defeated before I started. My schedule
was busier than I had expected it to be. I was trying to get ready for
vacation. I just wanted this to be over. As I pulled into the driveway
I saw the newspaper still lying there, and the dry cleaning that had
been delivered. Almost on autopilot, I retrieved the paper and
collected the dry cleaning. It occurred to me that if I carried these
things into the house as I normally would, perhaps I could actually get into the house this time, if just for a moment. I opened the door and Brutus came to greet me. I gave him a cheerful greeting despite the queasy feeling that had started to come over me. I was determined to get past the threshold. I carried the paper and clothing in and said hello to Jennifer.

We exchanged a few pleasantries and then Jennifer said, “I was telling my mom about Reiki. She was in the hospital last year with cancer. She was lucky not to have to undergo extensive treatment, but she knew a lot of people there who had gotten Reiki as a complement to chemo and radiation.” This was more than I could have hoped for. Encouraged by this, but still wary I shared some stories of Reiki miracles that I and other members of the class had experienced. Instead of the polite disinterest I half expected, Jennifer said she thought it was really cool.

I ended up sitting at the kitchen table, where I’d first met Brutus,
and offered him Reiki. He wandered between me and Jennifer and the baby but eventually settled down on his side. He let out a huge sigh. After a while he rose and pushed into me and I positioned my hands along his torso. He turned and licked my hands. After the Reiki stopped flowing, I thanked Brutus. Jennifer was amazed by his reaction. She said she had never seen him settle down so deeply. And after I left, he didn’t even bark at the mail truck.

I’ve been back to see Brutus, both for Reiki and for walks. I came
away from this experience with a renewed faith in Reiki and in myself.
I’ll never know why Brutus did what he did or why I reacted so strongly but it doesn’t really matter. I’ll never take our relationship for
granted, but I know that whatever hiccup in it occurred has been
expelled. This experience showed me the true healing essence of Reiki – both for the recipient and for the practitioner.

About the Author: Beth Lowell is a dog lover-owner-walker-writer and
artist who has recently expanded her horizons into the world of Animal
Reiki. She is looking forward to the journey! You can contact Beth at
beth@animalslovereiki.com or visit her website:
www.animalslovereiki.com.