This blog-post is accompanied by the podcast episode, “For the Love of a Dog.”
What follows is taken from a journal from that time and does not necessarily represent my current understanding or belief.
Monday, July 1, 2002
Midpoint of the year, a time I had focused on for some time, as evidence mounted that 2002 was shaping up to be a truly cataclysmic year, in the best (and worst?) sense. On New Year’s Eve I threw twelve Tarot cards for the year and got the following: Jan: Knight of Discs, Feb: Art, March: Death, April: The Hierophant, May: Ace of Wands (time the movie began), June: Ace of Discs, July: THE DEVIL. (After that, August: Princess of Discs, September: 10 discs- wealth, October: seven swords Futility, November: Wheel of Fortune, December: THE MAGICIAN.) In the last few days, I have been invoking the spirit of Lucifer/Pan with a steadily accumulating focus and intensity, and been palpably aware of this force/entity responding. (An invocation is a summoning forth of an intelligence within oneself: so far as it is effective one feels oneself being possessed or taken over by this force.) Saturday was the culmination of this working, in retrospect at least. I am aware of summoning Lucifer and in a sense sending Him into the world, at the same time I am inviting Him to reside within the physical body of Jake. It is a paradox, but Lucifer is at once trapped inside the body and being unleashed thru the summoning, even as I also invite him to enter into me. I suppose, as he is trapped inside the very cells themselves, by setting Him free He may enter into the blood and start to flow freely (Kundalini) thru the body, thereby, by becoming human, He may enter into the world? Whatever the case, the results have been suitably dramatic.
Saturday night, while I was performing this invocation, [my mother] Valerie was on the heath with Harry, around 9 in the evening (an unusual occurrence). She noticed police all over, looking for a missing person, presumably a child. I spoke to Mark [Lawn] the next day and he had been performing his own ceremony/meditation at about the same time. He had recently bought a black stone and felt that “everything was going black.” The next day, while joining Valerie to walk Harry on the heath, a woman friend of my neighbor Neil [owner of Flossie another west highland white I walked every day] was there; Valerie told me later that her daughter, that same Saturday night, had been attacked coming out of a bar. This happened for no good reason, since it was not a robbery. She had no memory of the incident but had been found with her teeth bashed in, the side of her face slashed, and one of her ears hanging off. When Valerie told me this I thought at once of Lucifer and my invocation. Why is it I only hear about the bad things, I thought?
That evening, Sunday, the last day of June, we watched The Crossing Guard, with Jack Nicholson, for the second time. It’s about a father who vows to kill a drunk driver who ran his daughter down. The driver himself is passively accepting of this (at first), due to the intense guilt he feels. After it was over, Valerie asked me if I wanted to take Harry back with me to spend the night. I thought it was pointless to have him just for the night, but she added that I could then keep him during the next day also. I had suggested the previous week that Harry spend more time with me, partly because Valerie in a gloomy mood had started to complain about Harry, and partly because I like to have Harry around. So I agreed to this, and soon after left with Harry.
I took his lead but didn’t put him on it. I never put Harry on the lead because he usually sticks close by me and is pretty obedient. But there are a couple of main roads to cross, so I have to be very careful. I very nearly did put him on the lead, just to save time waiting for all the cars to clear, but was finally too lazy to do so. When we got to the second main road, just before the heath, I stopped because there was a single car coming from my right. We could have made it but I didn’t want to chance it, so I stood on the corner and waited. Harry looked like he wanted to cross, so I said his name in a sharp voice to stop him. Seeing he was still hovering, I took a couple of steps in the opposite direction so he would follow. This had the very opposite effect, and he ran straight into the road.
I guess he just wanted to be on the Heath and so, like Lucifer, he rebelled. He ran right into the coming car. I stood there and watched it happen. It was the most terrible thing I have ever seen. He ran right under the car and I watched it. I remember thinking, maybe he wouldn’t be hit. I was just unable to believe what I was seeing. Then I heard the impact and I screamed, NO! It was all in slow motion.
The car stopped for a second then drove off, leaving Harry thrashing on the road. I ran over to him and bent down to pick him up. The right side of his face was all bloody. I was sure by the impact (the car had been going about 40 mph) that he would be dead. When the car hit him I actually saw white fur flying upward in a sort of cloud, just like in a cartoon. I don’t think I have ever felt such horror as in that moment.
Some young guys saw it and came over to me as I carried Harry away from the road. He was trying to bite my hand, obviously in terrible shock. I could feel him struggling and at once I began to wonder if he might be all right. The guys asked what I wanted to do and I had no idea, no idea whatsoever. I simply didn’t know where to go. They called the police on the cell phone and I could hear the guy having to answer all these stupid inane questions, so I started to shout into the cell phone (unable to take it because I was holding Harry). The guy said, “That’s the owner, he’s going mad!”
So then they called the RSPCA and I called Valerie and told her I had some bad news. I then said that Harry had been run over. She started to cry and asked if he was dead. I told her he wasn’t and that it was just possible he might even be all right. I could feel how strong Harry was and that he was all in one piece, and this alone was amazing to me. I expected when I ran over to find him torn to pieces, and then to watch him die in my arms. I was totally ready for this. In one split second life had veered off the rails and gone straight to hell. The Devil had struck, and He had taken an innocent, as is His wont. In the split second in which I saw Harry run out I froze. I did nothing. I could have jumped out in front of the car and it would certainly have braked that much harder, and this would probably have saved Harry, at who knows what cost to myself. If I could do it again I think I would do just that. Harry was under my protection, and I failed him miserably.
While I was sat with Harry in my arms on the sidewalk, Valerie called Neil and he showed up minutes later in his car, with his wife Shirley. They drove us to a 24-hour vet’s, and thank God Neil knew about this place. Harry would have been lost otherwise. I was in a state of shock, but nothing compared to poor Harry, who literally didn’t know what hit him. I took him into the vet’s hospital and he was put on the table and there they looked at him. Amazingly, his right eye was undamaged. He was struggling to walk, but couldn’t quite manage it. The vet said that there were no obvious breaks but that the head injury was quite serious and might lead to “complications,” and that of course they would need to take an x-ray to check for internal damage. Harry was breathing in a very short, strained fashion. Shirley was there and she was trying to cuddle Harry in her rather manic fashion, which I found slightly abrasive. We both had to leave Harry alone with the vet and at reception we got in a disagreement over the payment. Shirley, bless her heart, wanted to pay for some of it, and I refused, feeling that this was absolutely my debt here, my karma, and my penance. But she insisted so determinedly that finally I relented, thinking it was kinder to her to do so, and that I would actually have to fight her and I just couldn’t be bothered to do so. Plus of course I couldn’t really afford it. As it happens, Shirley was kind enough to pay £250 of the bill (half of it at that point), but the other £2000 or so, once all this is over, is all mine. But money became no object at this point, no concern at all. Everything else went away, and the whole universe was reduced to one injured little dog.
I went to be with Harry and told Shirley I would stay with him, then they left presently. I spoke to Valerie on the phone and she wanted me to stay with him all night. I said I’d see what they said. Obviously I didn’t fancy it, though if there was a chance he was going to die then I would of course do just that. I could hear his breathing was funny and asked the vet, a sweet lady named Robin, to check him again. She said they were waiting a while before giving him x-rays because it was dangerous to sedate him while he was still in shock. I stayed with him a while, and finally they took him off for the X-rays.
Once this was done, they told me that the lining of his stomach had broken and that his organs were all fallen down: his spleen was way down in his stomach, he was a mess. They were certainly going to have to operate. This was after I’d spent a time in meditation in the waiting room, after everyone had gone away. I have never prayed so hard. Nothing else mattered but Harry. I was prepared to give everything up, all my hopes, dreams, desires, my health, wealth, fame, happiness, my very life itself, if only Harry would be well again. Everything became nothing.
No amount of suffering inflicted upon oneself can compare to having to see suffering inflicted on an innocent whom one loves, be it a child or an animal. This agony of despair and impotence is then doubled when it is one’s own negligence that has brought about this suffering. I believe this is the worst pain there is. I might as well have done this to Harry myself with a sledgehammer, for it couldn’t have felt any worse. He trusted in me and I allowed this to happen. It was just as if I had been driving the car.
Is there any difference finally between an evil act and an irresponsible one? I don’t think so. I had flirted with danger. I had predicted some terrible catastrophe, and sure enough, it had come. But I had done more than predict it, I had caused it. And there had been plenty of warnings. There always are.
The day before, while walking down Charing Cross road, I suddenly felt something poke me in the abdomen, like a broom handle jabbed between my ribs. I stopped and looked down, but of course there was nothing there. Either I was about to suffer a hernia, I thought, or else some strange forces were prodding me, for reasons I could not guess at. Harry suffered an almost fatal hernia in roughly the same spot the following day. That was only the most bizarre of several omens.
Needless to say I prayed. And prayed. And prayed. When I got back to Valerie’s, having said my goodbyes to Harry, I fell into her arms and wept. I told her how sorry I was, and strangely, as soon as I said it, I couldn’t weep anymore. We stayed up for a while. Valerie was taking it well, better than I was, but then, she hadn’t seen it happen. She hadn’t caused it to happen. When I went to bed I lay awake a time and ran over the event in my mind, over and over. It felt like going insane must feel. I dreamed, all night of Harry, yet Harry was nowhere in my dreams. The dreams seemed to be nothing to do with Harry, yet they were all about him, and what happened, and my desperate attempts to amend.
It is impossible to describe how it feels to cause harm to an innocent. It is like seeing life killed. No life is more valuable or precious than any other. Harry became for me, not a symbol but a living embodiment of the preciousness and precariousness, the sweetness and beauty, of life. And Harry was always a ball of joy, the happiest creature on God’s Earth. I said the week before, at my midsummer’s party, “Harry’s joy feeds the universe.” Now everything was in jeopardy. If Harry dies, I thought, nothing will be the same. Of course, if he lives, it won’t be the same either. But it will all be better than before. If he dies, it will all be worse. And nothing will ever change that, that I have destroyed something beautiful thru my carelessness. There was no doubt I would give up anything, even my own legs, to save Harry. He was my joy, and my innocence, and nothing is more precious than that.
So finally I slept and woke a few hours later and wondered if the vets had called and if Harry was dead. He was doing all right, they said. He was even wagging his tail. But they weren’t going to operate yet, so we took our time going in to see him. Valerie spoke to Ashley and Emerald and Karen, and also to Sebastian. At the vets we saw Harry, and spoke to a very kind and professional surgeon. Harry was walking but otherwise he was not in a good way. The vet showed us the x-rays and explained the situation again, said if Harry made it through the operation he’d be 90% in the clear, but that if he did make it he’d certainly have to stay with them that week, to be kept under close observation. We left him there, planning to come back in the afternoon after the operation. I said goodbye to Valerie in Hampstead and went home. On the phone were messages from Emerald, saying she loved me, and from Ash, offering sympathy and support. Tears and incense and prayer followed. The sorrow I felt was like an ocean in which I was swimming, but not drowning. The faery spirits of love and healing I summoned thus, with my tears and anguish. I know they are drawn by sorrow, that they love me and Harry and all that lives with a love we can barely conceive of. And yet they say faeries cannot sorrow, and so their love is somehow incomplete. And so they are drawn by my sorrow, and inspired and stirred by it, and they follow this sorrow to its cause, and there find a small, suffering dog, wounded by the world. And they circle around him and they bathe him in their love and their light, and they make him strong and they take away his pain and fear and make him whole again. And this is the miracle of love.
By the time I am done with this weeping prayer, the right side of my face is throbbing with pain. The pain feels good. It is Harry’s pain, and now it is my pain.
After calling Mark and enlisting his aid with Harry (he said healing dogs was his specialty), I resolved not to indulge in feeling like death, to shave and shower and change my clothes. I called Liz in Chicago. It was difficult but good to talk to her for the first time. I suddenly felt removed from this experience, detached, as if it was all just some abstract problem to which I already knew the solution. I probably didn’t make much sense to Liz, and Liz herself couldn’t really say much, save that she would do what she could to send healing Harry’s way. But that was all I needed to hear. It helped to speak to someone who was totally removed and yet at the same time totally involved, because involved with me and my path as healer, warrior, nagual, whatever. It gave perspective.
I walked on the heath with the girls, Neil’s dogs Flossie, Moth, and Seedy. I told them about Harry and to send him their love and support. At the circle of trees I came upon a single crow stood on a bench, looking at me. My ally, offering his solace and support. I asked him to send my love to Harry, and he flew off, but I couldn’t be sure which direction (either West or South).
The whole day I stayed focused on Harry and his healing. As focused as I was able. Time didn’t go slow or fast. It just went. Neil drove me back to the vets’ by 3, but I was too late to see Harry because he was already being prepped for surgery. I tried to talk the receptionist into letting me, said I had an important message for Harry, his marching orders, to be sure he didn’t die in battle. She offered to pass on a message so I told her, “Tell him Jake will be with him all the way.” She went and gave him a kiss from me.
I fell asleep in the waiting room and dreamed about the first, second, and third attentions. Each time I fell asleep I went into other dreams. It seemed a good way to be with Harry, in close proximity but sleeping, as Harry would also be by then, and so on a common plane. It took hours to get any news. Towards the end of the wait it started to pour with rain and one of the receptionists said, ruefully: “1st of July! Summertime!” I noticed a book for “those gone but not forgotten,” full of animals that had died. I read the first page, about the rainbow bridge to the other world, and started crying. A while after that the pretty receptionist said that they were nearly done and that Harry was doing fine. I noticed moments after that the clouds were clearing and there, all of a sudden, was blue sky! I went and stood in the sunshine and gave my thanks, but tentatively, in case I was being premature.
Harry made it thru surgery, and the surgeon was very happy with the results. I went to see Harry. He was barking non-stop, half asleep, in great pain from the open chest surgery. On morphine. I sat with him and caressed his sweet head and sent him pictures of the heath and happy days yet to come. I summoned Rafael, healing one of God, to watch over him and all the other animals there. And then I left him there for the night, with a kiss and a prayer.
The poor dear was suffering terribly. Harry has never suffered really until now. If he pulls thru he will be a whole new dog. A warrior dog. With battle scars and war stories: wiser, stronger, smarter than before. And we will all be that, too. And also a tighter, more close-knit, and loving unit of warrior healers thanks to this terrible experience. At which point I will know why I was so damn stupid as to let Harry get run over! But he’s not out of the woods yet. The next 48 hours will determine his fate, I guess, and to some extent that of us all. Are we that pure, is our love that strong? Because if Harry dies, then everything will be marred by his death. And if he lives, we will all be enhanced by the miracle of healing. It is in God’s hands, like everything. And so it is to God we pray, to be firm, but merciful, in dealing out our life lessons. But above all, dear Lord, to keep an eye out for the little ones, and protect them from harm.
This one’s for you, Harry.
We love you more than we can say.
Next day. I sent the above to Liz last night and I received this email today in reply. [I am no longer in touch with Liz, but I hope she will not mind my sharing this private correspondence, and understand my reasons for doing so.]
After your call, I brushed my teeth and prepared to do what I said I would, although I wasn’t really sure what it would be. So I sat facing east on the bed (sun was shining brightly) and asked for a little direction. Called on all the spirits, guides and other beings that usually help and protect me. They told me what to do.
They told me to imagine a link between myself and Jake, an energy thread, (which they also mentioned was easily done because a strong one already exists)and to primarily focus on this because I had a stronger tie with him and he could pass on the energy to Harry. I was also to imagine a similar link with Harry, based on my knowledge of him and his name, and to also feel the link between him and Jake, resulting in a sort of energetic three-way. They had me say a prayer and focus on bringing down love and light from God and the sun as well as healing energy from the Goddess and the earth while inhaling, then send it through the lines to Jake and Harry, who could use it as they liked. After some time, they suggested I call my angels, the ones who visited me a month ago, and I asked them how to do it, who should I ask for. They said, silly girl: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel. I was like, but aren’t those arc-angels/ and they said yes, but that they were the ones I should call on. So I did, and they taught me another song, this one for long-distance healing. So I sang it, and as it was going on I was wondering whether it was having an effect. And my emissaries said it was working well and Harry was responding.
I then said another prayer, and got ready for class. After all was done I asked again if anything I did was helpful and received confirmation that indeed, the sending and receiving of love and healing was working very well.
Oh, a side note, I was informed while setting up the energy thread thing that indeed we were establishing a connection … and that we would be sharing energy. They said I had plenty to spare and that it would all come back later. Throughout the day I could definitely feel energy being drawn away, and of course that was fine, I was aware of where it was going, and glad it was being used. It made me a little air-headed and I kept making silly mistakes (like losing my bus card by putting it in the dollar bill receptacle ha, ha) but nothing harmful. Anyway, I was told it was extremely important for me to stay positive all day as whatever I was experiencing was going to influence the two of you, especially Harry, so I’ve been extra mindful of my mood.
I felt very sensitive after the meditation, full of love of course and vulnerable. We had a guest speaker today talking about investigative reporting. He recounted a few sad stories that had been published. Even just hearing about them made my eyes water. (I didn’t let tears fall though.)
While I was walking to class, and I imagine the operation was well underway or maybe drawing to a close, I asked my guides how things were going to turn out. They said it all was still hanging in a precarious balance -that the operation would be successful in that he would survive it, but that whether he lived, or even chose to live would depend on various things, mainly (in our case) on how we live the next few days. Our emotions, our thoughts, our actions and our continued prayer and meditation are going to play a big role. It also has to do with how we deal with the understanding that he might not make it. Yes Jake, a lot of it rests on you. Getting lost in feelings of guilt will not be helpful yet cultivating that clear sense of responsibilty will. It’s a very fine line. Make sure you make time to give love and healing to yourself … your attitude here will make all the difference. You CAN’T exchange your legs for his life, and that wouldn’t satisfy the point of this lesson anyway. You have to find the balance. But if he does indeed die, it won’t be in vain if it prevents us from ever again being careless in the future. I say us because this is a message to all of us who are being called to usher in change. I also say us because obviously what affects you, does me.
But if nothing else, I think today’s events demonstrated that love does indeed heal, and is not hindered by any distance, and prayers are answered. Love does not fail. And while as humans we may err, with love we can repair our mistakes. We can’t change the past, but we can change ourselves. Love is the only way we can heal ourselves, our dear ones, and this planet. Love can be sweet, and it can be terrible. But we must strive to do everything in our lives in it, for it and by it and not just in its name.
Harry is on the mend. He is doped up and depressed, but that is hardly surprising.
Last night something happened. NOW I understand! Ah ha! The riddle of existence. What love is. Who and what Christ is. Yeah, folks: I am. Love. The most powerful force in the Universe. The power supreme. Unconditional, all-consuming, love. I am that.
It’s wrong to say “Now I understand,” because I have always understood this. But for about an hour I fully experienced it. Lived it, breathed it, wept it. It was as if I was weeping for the world entire, for all space, all time, all sorrow, everywhere. And indeed I was. Now life has assumed a brand new hue. Precious. Sacred. Sublime. This is it! […]
Now this morning I read the headlines and a few of the details and I discover that last night, maybe even while I was immersed in prayer, two planes collided over Germany and 144 people were killed. 144, as in 12 X 12, as in The Book of Revelation. The first headline, however, singled out the children’s deaths only, 44, just as if the 100 adults didn’t “count.” The previous day I had been thinking exactly this. Because of Harry, I was thinking how we (that is, those of us with the awareness to love and to heal) MUST begin doing so, now, in groups or alone, and how we need to specifically direct our healing, protective energy fields if you will, to the children (those under 14), and ensure they are protected in the coming catastrophe. I imagined doing this with a group, and then I fantasized, rather vainly, reading a headline about a disaster of some sort in which only adults were killed, but all the children were mysteriously spared. That way, I thought, we would know our work was effective.
This was a vain kind of fantasy really, but the next day I see this headline. And I wonder, did those children (and adults) die so Harry might live? Did our work divert Death from Harry and thereby send Him after these other souls? Or was it rather that those freshly dead souls were available to help with the healing of Harry? Or perhaps it was simply that Harry got hit at a time when so many children were about to die, so the healing work we did would also be unconsciously directed to helping these souls to find their way? It doesn’t matter, only that the two events are intimately and totally interconnected, in my mind and in my life. Sacrifices.
Of course, the US also bombed a wedding in Afghanistan last night, and children also died. All these events may help people to wake up to the collective situation and, potentially, begin opening their hearts and doing the necessary healing work, to thereby prepare for the real catastrophe, which is but moments away. And at a personal level, Harry’s near death, which it goes without saying affected me far more deeply than even the deaths of 144 million unknown people would have, has forced, or allowed, me to wake up to my responsibility and my power as a healer, as a man of knowledge, a soul who has been blessed with the power to love unconditionally, and to transform the world thru this love. To lead the way.
I went to see Harry again this afternoon, this time with Ashley, Valerie, and Emerald. I passed on Liz’s advice, to Valerie and Emerald at least, since Ash isn’t really that involved with Harry emotionally. I warned them not to take Harry’s recovery for granted, that he had only come so far at all because of our love and our good thoughts, and that we had to keep them up a little longer. It was imperative that we only think loving thoughts for the next couple of days, because every thought we had went straight to Harry. I then added, “Of course, we could only think loving thoughts the whole time, too, and life would be a lot better for it.” It is so simple a child could understand. And of course they do, as grown-ups almost never do.
We spent a short while with Harry, who was very happy to see us and very lively and fit. He is going to be well again. I am sure of it, just so long as I keep my focus on the good thing. The spirits have responded to my love and they are so happy, so happy, to feel this love again. And of course we have to be impeccable and maintain this loving kindness and more, with every moment, continue to send love and healing into the world, and never stop, never stop loving, until the world is transformed by our love. But what could be easier than this, what task more joyous and worthy of a warrior than to love and be loved and share such love, forever and ever and ever?
I sent a little more healing energy your and Henry’s [sic!] way this morning. My guides say he’s doing fine, that he loves you all so much (good that you’ve been demonstrating your love for him) he wants to stay. So I think he’s on the mend and his chances are good. He may only live another couple of years, but that’s how it is for all of us, isn’t it? One more day, gotta give thanks.
Harry in 2007
Harry lived another fifteen years after the accident. He died of old age.