Tag let animals lead

Dental anxiety? Reign it in

Nancy Crowe

Itchy with bug bites, Megan the gypsy horse was in no mood to have her teeth done. I’d been told she had dental issues and, even with sedation, anxiety to the point of rearing. Now her turn was coming up.

I told her what was happening and that I knew firsthand that tooth and skin problems are no fun … but not insurmountable. She’d indicated a few weeks earlier that she was “the queen around here” — so I said: “Be the queen. You’ve got this.”

She was skeptical but shared a meditation session with me. I pictured her bathed in a gentle light, regal and unbothered.

Megan reportedly had a good visit with the equine dentist. As befits a queen, all four feet stayed on the ground.  

We all require maintenance now and then. If an air of royalty helps you get it done, go for it. Just reign kindly.

(Image courtesy of Canva’s new AI wizardry)

A specialized form of Reiki rooted in meditation

Nancy Crowe
Dolly, left, and Maggie after a Let Animals Lead® session.

You may hear me talking more about meditation than Reiki these days. That’s because the animal Reiki method I practice, Let Animals Lead®, works through meditation. It’s different from what you may know as Reiki.

Let Animals Lead® was developed by Kathleen Prasad, founder of Animal Reiki Source and co-founder of the nonprofit Shelter Animal Reiki Association, to which I belong. Let Animals Lead® is a specialized form of Reiki, a Japanese stress relief modality: “Rei” stands for spirit or higher power, and “ki” (sometimes seen as “chi”) is the energy that animates every living thing.

Reiki was developed a century ago by Mikao Usui. It was essentially meditation; subsequent teachers added hand positions. These hand positions are used with a human client seated in a chair or lying on a massage table. That was how Kathleen and tons of other practitioners, including me, learned Reiki. Today, Reiki promotes relaxation and healing in spas, private clinics, hospitals and other settings.

As time went on, Kathleen found that “people Reiki” wasn’t always effective with animals … despite the best intentions of the practitioner. Because animals are much more sensitive to energy, touch generally isn’t needed. Animals who have experienced abuse, trauma or illness may even shy away from touch.

Kathleen saw this most acutely when her beloved dog Dakota was sick. He wouldn’t sit still for traditional Reiki, but when she sat quietly in meditation, he settled beside her.

Creating a peaceful space where animals are free to share on their own terms turned out to be a game changer. Thus Let Animals Lead® was born.

I had taken one or two of Kathleen’s earlier classes and practiced animal Reiki, but training with her as a Let Animals Lead® practitioner and teacher allowed me to offer animals and their people something better. It is my honor to see creatures from mice to rescued draft horses join with me and take the lead in their own healing — whatever that means for them.

Is it still Reiki? Yes. Is it more accurately and recognizably described as meditation? Also yes.

In a world where so much seems murky, talking about a discipline that makes animals’ lives better can be clear.

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.