Tag animal Reiki

Animal Wise: Lost and found

Nancy Crowe

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Photo credit: ~db~ via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

The tiger cat stood on the sidewalk on a sunny Sunday morning, looking around and meowing. When I petted him, he felt very thin. How long had he been out on his own?

I looked up to see a gentleman cutting across the manicured lawns, looking for a cat … but not that one. His was a blue-point ragdoll. I jotted down his number and where he lived, and promised to keep an eye out.

I have two cats, and the older one is barely beginning to tolerate the younger one’s presence. Bringing home a third was not likely to go over well, and yet I felt terrible about just leaving him there. Rock, meet hard place.

Then a woman came by with her dog. She hadn’t seen the ragdoll and didn’t know where the tiger cat belonged. After seeing how friendly he was, she decided she’d take him home and try contacting the shelters in the morning … or maybe keep him. I picked up the cat and helped her get him home. Only then did I realize he’d had a messy accident on me, and I wondered if he was sick.

I went home, cleaned up, and posted the photo I’d taken of the cat on Facebook — my page, our neighborhood association page, and a couple of local lost pet pages. I saw photos of the missing ragdoll cat posted on one of the lost pet pages, so I shared those on my page and the neighborhood page as well.

Over the next couple of days, I sent distant Reiki energy to both cats, those caring for them, those searching for them, and for overall help and healing in each situation. I took my daily walks in the area where the ragdoll cat lived, sending out more energy and hoping to catch a glimpse of the wayfarer. Some animal communicators and other intuitives specialize in locating lost pets. I am not one of them — but I wanted to do what I could.

On Wednesday, I saw a woman outside in that area and asked if she’d seen a ragdoll cat. Her face brightened. That was her cat, and he was home safe and sound. I don’t recall the exact sequence of events she relayed, but a Facebook share someone else saw may have helped bring him home. Score one for social media.

I touched base with the lady who’d taken the tiger cat in. She’d had to take him to the city shelter since the SPCA shelter was full and her dog had gone after him a few times. He was not microchipped.

My heart sank. If no one claimed him, and especially if he was sick, chances were good he’d be euthanized. The lady had done her best, and so had I, but it still felt so overwhelmingly insufficient and sad.

So one happy outcome, one at best unknown. This is one of the hardest aspects of both working with animals and doing energy work. We are forced to come smack up against what we can and cannot control, and we are called upon to keep going and bringing forth the best in ourselves regardless. We get so mired in what we can’t do that we lose sight of what we can do — being vigilant about keeping our cats indoors, watching out for lost pets, contributing to animal welfare efforts, praying for all God’s creatures, being present for them, and more.

Let’s do that.

Sometimes, all you need to be effective is what you already have

Nancy Crowe
Midnight the black cat

On the first day of Animal Reiki III, I wasn’t sure I’d get it right.

Sure, I’d been practicing for 10 years, mostly with animals I knew. I’d taken all three levels of “people Reiki.” But I wondered if I really had my “stuff” together enough to be of any use to the animals at the sanctuary where our training was underway.

There’s nothing like starting something new to bring old “who the hell am I to think I can do this?” chickens home to roost. I’d just left my corporate job to devote more time to my independent writing and editing projects, and to expand my animal Reiki practice as well. Even though I knew it was the right move, change is fertile ground for doubt.

That first day, a cold rain on the roof drowned out the voice of the tour guide sharing snippets of each animal’s story. Perhaps it was just as well. Our teacher, Kathleen Prasad, had emphasized earlier in the day that the animals are not the circumstances that brought them here. They are not the rage, the cruelty, the indifference. To see them as victims diminishes them (and us) and gets in the way of healing. Learning to create a healing space for the animals — not fixing them — was why we were there.

We dispersed for our first treatment session, and I looked for Midnight, the black cat I’d seen strutting along the back wall of the stables. I found him — or he found me — near the front of the barn. He stretched, looked at me, and meowed pointedly.  Accustomed to obeying cats, I sat on a picnic table, and he settled immediately into my lap.

I remembered to ask Midnight’s permission and to tell him to take only the energy he wanted or needed, that it was really up to him. I remembered the Reiki Precepts — for today only: do not anger, do not worry, be humble, be honest, and have compassion for all living things — and to ask him to help teach them to me. I remembered the breathing techniques we’d practiced that morning in the hotel conference room. What was I missing?

Midnight just kneaded and purred, and as the minutes went by I began to shift out of “doing” Reiki and into “being” Reiki, and being present for my new feline friend and teacher. I filled up my heart and being with the energy I have known since before my birth — that unconditional, unwavering love of Source — and let it flow through me for whatever Midnight needed in that moment. That’s it, I remembered as the rain, the cold, the mud, and the “should” storm receded.

The next time I looked up, my fellow students were gathering in the middle of the barn for instructions on the next treatment session. Then I looked at Midnight, and he calmly met my gaze with a “You’re not going anywhere for a while” look. He stayed in my lap through another treatment session. After listening to Kathleen’s instructions, I tried some quiet chanting … but he was just as happy without it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a horse watching with interest. You’re next, I told him silently.

When the time was up, I thanked Midnight, stood up, gave him one more chin scratch, and gently set him on the table. I hadn’t missed a thing.

Horse sense

Nancy Crowe

512fUSHSArL._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_When you don’t know what to do, or even when you do, sometimes the key is simply to be. Author and animal Reiki instructor Kathleen Prasad’s book, Heart to Heart with Horses: The Equine Lover’s Guide to Reiki (2017: Animal Reiki Source), illustrates this beautifully. As one of Kathleen’s students, I was already familiar with her work, but a desire to learn more about working with horses led me to this book, her latest.

Reiki, a Japanese stress relief and relaxation technique that also promotes healing, is not limited to hands-on practice, especially with animals. A practitioner can give a Reiki treatment from across the room or just outside an enclosure or stall. It’s all about energy and presence, to which animals are much more attuned than humans. Horses in particular are very intuitive and sensitive creatures. You do not need to use the traditional Reiki hand positions, or use your hands at all, for them to “get it.” In other words, instead of “doing” Reiki, try “being” Reiki, Kathleen suggests, and she offers several ways to do this.

From her own experience and a sprinkling of guest authors’ stories, Kathleen teaches animal Reiki as a meditative practice which creates space for healing … whatever healing might mean for that horse in that moment. The practitioner does not have to know “what’s wrong” or direct how healing will happen. Sharing Reiki energy helps set up the conditions for whatever is needed — the clearing up of an infection, a peaceful transition at the end of life, insight into a behavioral issue, or none of these.

The practitioner’s state of mind and heart is the real key, Kathleen says, and a daily meditation practice helps with this. It’s also important to let the animal choose to participate in the treatment, or not. She says horses will often test the practitioner by declining (moving away or showing signs of irritation or aggravation), just to see if it truly is up to them. Once the horse knows he has a choice (and, I might add, that you are not the sort of healer who pokes, prods, or gives shots), he is more likely to be receptive. A horse may even move closer and position himself near you, perhaps pushing a hip or shoulder into your hands. Then you can offer some gentle hands-on work, but that should always be at the animal’s initiative, Kathleen says.

We humans have ridden horses into battle, made them schlep us and our stuff over great distances, and more. Heart to Heart with Horses offers us a respectful, compassionate way forward  — connecting with these magnificent animals and allowing them to be our teachers.