Tonglen Healing Arts for Animals

Articles

Lama Zoe

February 2004

A little over three years ago, my dear Australian Shepherd Zoe was diagnosed with cancer of the spleen. After having her spleen removed, I considered many options for supporting her health. I had been told the type of cancer she had generally spread quickly throughout the body. Regardless of which vet I spoke to or what treatment was recommended, I was told Zoe would only survive 2 to 6 months. I was devastated. Zoe was not only a treasured member of the family, she was also my working service dog. I was planning to retire her in a few years because I thought I had time and was already looking for a new dog to train. All of the sudden I faced losing a family member and my working companion. It was awful.

Contrary to my worst fears, Zoe recovered from her surgery in no time flat but I was so upset I couldn't think straight. I turned to Zoe's primary veterinarian, Jackie Obando, and asked her what I should do now. She gave me the best advice anyone could have offered me. She said, "Take Zoe home and treat her like a dog. Let her play and do whatever she likes to do."

Essentially, Jackie told me to treat Zoe like she was healthy and whole and not like she was sick and dying. I decided from that day forward to always hold the intent in my mind that Zoe was a whole being, not an injured being. That's not to say I didn't attend to Zoe's health in other ways – I did. Although Zoe had always been on an extremely healthy diet and basic supplements, I now dove into tailoring a diet focused on strengthening her immune system. In addition, I stepped up the frequency of the Reiki and CranioSacral Therapy work I did with her. I also decided that any further medical treatment or testing should be based on Zoe's well being and not on my emotional needs. If there was nothing more I could do to stop the spreading of the disease, then the testing would be for me and not for her and I knew that wasn't right.

Because she had already given so many years of her life helping me, I decided to immediately retire her from working. I knew Zoe's absolute favorite thing to do was to go out on the trail with my horse Arrow and me, so I made sure to take her out with me as often as possible. Whenever Zoe and I were on the trail, she would leap out in front of us to explore the tracks of other animals, then dart back to Arrow's side to make sure we were OK, then shoot off again. All the while she had a big grin spread across her face with that wonderful pink tongue of hers waving about with each pant.

The other thing I began doing with Zoe was to make sure I took time with her each day to simply appreciate her. I would tell her I was glad she was with me for another day and how happy I was to share my life with her for as long as she was able. Now I've probably said things like that to my animals before, but I doubt I had ever been so conscious about what I meant when I was saying it. This time I knew I meant: Be it a day, a week, a month or longer, I am so happy to have you in my life.

There's something you should know about Zoe. You couldn't make Zoe do anything she didn't want to do. Loyal as she was to me, if I forced an issue and said it's my way or the highway, she would say, "See ya!" Things had to make sense to her and she had to decide what she was willing do to. I often thought Zoe would be alive until she simply decided it was time to leave her body. In the meanwhile, if she wasn't interested in dying I wasn't about to count her out. I also knew when Zoe decided she was ready to die nothing I did was going to make any difference and it would be a speedy process once she made up her mind. I understood that was Zoe's way.

That was it. That was the whole plan. Feed her well, let her have fun and appreciate her.

So, we went on like this. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. I continued to focus on treating Zoe as a healthy vibrant being and that's exactly what she was. To everyone's astonishment, a year later Zoe was doing great. I started joking she looked really good for a dead dog. Her blue eyes sparkled and she was just as radiant and tough as ever. Every day I sat with her and thanked her for being in my life for another day and let her know how loved and appreciated she was.

Slightly less than 2 years after the surgery to remove her spleen, Zoe suddenly stopped eating. The one thing I could always count on Zoe to do was eat. As a matter of fact, she once consumed nearly $100 in cash I had left on the couch. Now that Zoe had stopped eating, I knew something was dreadfully wrong. I figured the cancer had finally spread. I had x-rays taken of Zoe to check for masses in her lungs. Her lungs were clear and there was still no sign the deadly cancer had spread. However, another mass was detected in her pancreas.

Zoe was dead within two weeks. I asked the veterinarian who had diagnosed the pancreatic cancer if it had spread from her spleen and he said no; this was separate. It was just as I had thought. Zoe wasn't ready to go until she was ready to go and then there was no stopping her.

I share this story with many of my clients who are also living with ailing animals. As important as it is to work with a veterinarian you trust, Zoe taught me no matter how compromised an animal's body, the most important thing is to recognize their spirit is whole and to treat them that way until their last breath. I miss Zoe tremendously, but I don't have a single regret about how I treated her during this last period of her life or whether there was more I should have done. I treated her just the way she would have wanted to be treated. I appreciated her and she, in turn, relished her retired days on the trail with Arrow and me. I feel grateful I was able to resist giving in to my fears and my need to hold on to her because that allowed me to experience all the joys she had to offer. Thank you Zoe.