Be moved by the power of spirit working through the animals we encounter daily. Your adorable pet is not simply a companion; he's more than a family member. He's love and care and inspiration wrapped up in a ball of fur, but definitely not to be called a "fur ball" This book tells the story of two women whose love for their pets took them on a journey that began with giving healing to their own precious fur babies. They soon discovered much more than they ever imagined. As they connect with all types of animals, their hope is to be able to deliver the animals' messages about how they help us heal. This is an inspiring true story of healing, transformation, and love.

Reiki Fur Babies

By Candy Boroditsky Ming Chee-Brown

BALBOA PRESS

Copyright © 2012 Candy Boroditsky, Ming Chee-Brown
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-4682-7

Chapter One

The Story of Reiki Fur Babies

"Caring for the physical and mental well-being of all creatures." - Reiki Fur Babies

CANDY'S STORY

I am a daughter, I am a mother, I am a grandmother, I am a wife, I am a sister, I am an aunt, I am a friend and I am a woman who lives in love and gratitude. I come from a poor family who worked hard and made their children work just as hard. My father was a shoe repairman like his father, and he and my mother also ran a successful restaurant in our home town of Buffalo, New York. The fact that my father had a gambling problem was the backdrop of our family life; it didn't matter how much he made he was always looking for the big score. My childhood can be recalled as very bleak with a brutal father who never spared the rod. He did love his children yet wasn't capable of knowing how to be kind. Through the difficult and miserable childhood I was able to create a wonderful life inside my mind – that's why I always knew the power of intention was real. I had to surrender the life I was living as a child because you are helpless in childhood to a higher power. We were certainly not a religious family, but somehow from within I found the strength to believe beyond my circumstances. I've always found that helping someone in need gave me the healing I needed inside me. If there's a room of a hundred people I have an internal magnet that draws me to the child or adult that has the pain I could really connect to.

When I met Ming it was because my new Boxer puppy needed to play. We moved into the same new home development and I knew no one. I scoped out the neighborhood and noticed Ming, who lived a few houses down from me, had a dog. I rang her doorbell and tried to set up a play date for our dogs. When we first met, I could feel Ming observing me. I believe it was because I say what is going on; I speak my mind, and encouraged her to try to do the same. Over time a wonderful and true friendship grew. Ming is my dearest and, for many years, my best friend. We talk and see each other almost every day. We are grateful that we have husbands who have always supported our deep abiding friendship. We certainly have had so many special adventures together. We always laugh and really allow each other the space that each of us needs just to be. I am sure that it's the comfort of our relationship that gave us the foundation to begin a business together. Ming and I are aware of each other's strengths and also our weaknesses.

My journey in this story begins with my Boxer Ry. He taught me so many incredible lessons and he introduced me to Ming. I have lived in such gratitude that God allowed Ry to live five years with so many valuable examples that my wonderful fur baby taught me. Of course I grew up with dogs and had three or four dogs before Ry. If I had to judge myself, I would say I'm a good pet owner. I gave them car rides, treats, vet visits, and above all love from all of us. When Ry came along I had an empty nest. On the same day we picked up Ry at the airport from Canada, we moved into a new house in Venice Beach. Because the house was in a new development neighborhood, the grounds were all dirt; there was no grass yet for our new puppy. The house and puppy were both brand new. Back in Pasadena while we were packing up to move, we had a big puppy shower; thirty or forty close friends came to celebrate the arrival of our Canadian Boxer puppy. It was all a fresh new beginning for us as we moved into our new home, got grass growing and started training the wildest puppy I had ever known. Ry was so handsome, but very unpredictable. He'd be sitting on my lap so sweet, and then he would turn around and jump at my face. I would laugh hysterically because I couldn't believe this little beast! My husband and I were so in love with this guy. I brushed his teeth every morning, went for walks, and looked for other puppies to play with. How lucky for us Ming also bought a house on the same street as we did. She had a little dog called Molly. Ry and Molly became great friends as did Ming and I. Ry would talk to me over everything; he always told me what he needed. If someone called me, and Ry wanted me, he would just start howling and yelling so I couldn't hear the other person on the phone. Whatever he needed, he would communicate to me. Ry loved going to the kennel club where he played with such gusto. He would jump up and be playful with all the staff. They all fell in love with Ry, too.

Thinking back, maybe my real story began when one day when my husband and I were sitting on the couch in our living room. We were discussing my husband's upcoming surgery on a tumor that had developed on the side of his face. We were pretty confident that it would be benign. At that same moment Ry jumped on the couch and sat next to me. As I was gently petting him I felt a lump on his neck. I made a comment to my husband about the lump, asking whether he thought it could also be a tumor. I wasn't about to take any chances so I took Ry to the vet the next day to have her check out the lump. Then her announcement came that she thought it was cancerous. A needle biopsy would be done to be sure. I was stunned. I was having trouble believing her so I lived in denial until I got the results. In the meantime, my husband had his surgery. It went great. Success. It was benign. Not so for Ry. The vet called back for the follow-up visit and she confirmed her diagnosis – cancer. I called my best friend Ming because I couldn't breathe. The vet wanted me to take Ry to another veterinarian who specialized in treating dogs with cancer. The appointment was made and it was Ming who drove me and Ry to his first Oncology visit. I believe I was in shock when they called us into the examination room. I must have appeared to understand what was going on and what they were saying, but all I recall is watching their lips move in slow motion as my head tried to process their words. And then Ming and I left for an hour while they took Ry into the other room to do whatever it was they had to do. We went over to McDonald's and sat and drank diet sodas to pass an hour. Then I broke down and began to cry. It hit me right then and there. My sweet baby boy was having cancer treatment while I was sipping soda.

An hour later we headed back to the doctor, there I was in front of her again and all I could see were her lips moving. I forced myself to hear her words, but I felt too overwhelmed. The vet told us that these treatments were very expensive, they were very difficult for the dog to tolerate and they may only prolong his life by a few months. Nevertheless, I paid $1,500 and made the next appointment for Ry. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he was brought out to us. He was very glassy-eyed and shaky, he couldn't walk without help and he had these bubbles of skin all over him. I was heartsick seeing him in such a confused and dazed state.

When we brought him home, Ming's dogs Sammy Diva and Lucy were there waiting for us. Sammy Diva licked every puffed up area on Ry's body. Each bubble was filled with liquid from his cancer treatments. It was as if the other dogs knew what he was going through and they were being so gentle and loving to Ry. Ry went back several times for more treatment, and they kept adding more drugs with each visit. As it turned out, I had to administer many of the drugs to him at home. Of course, they warned me that I must wear gloves with this medication or I could contract cancer myself. All I wanted was to do the right thing for Ry, so I was willing to take that risk in addition to spending thousands of dollars to treat his cancer.

One afternoon, on a beautiful sunny day, Ry, Lucy and I were all relaxing when all of a sudden Ry was up and running outside. I went after him and couldn't believe my eyes. Poor Ry was projectile vomiting. This lasted for fifteen or twenty minutes, then it would begin all over again. I called the vet immediately and was told that these were the side effects. After a couple of hours of this, Ry came in and collapsed on the couch. I sat with him, helplessly, and it was then that we had a serious conversation. During this conversation Ry told me he did not want to continue with the drug therapy. He had a clear voice that I could hear. My heart and head were open to this conversation. I agreed to let Ry live each day to its fullest, on his own terms. When it came to his time to pass over he would tell me. Until then he wanted to play every day, eat all his favorite foods and still go to his kennel club – he thought of it as camp! I agreed to respect him and listen with my heart. He immediately got better and started playing again like the crazy Boxer boy he always was. We were all filled with so much joy to see him living each moment with such gusto. The vet and the staff were pretty negative with our decision to discontinue chemo and all the cancer treatment, and not to mention I had a thousand more dollars worth of medication sitting on the cupboard unopened. I was told no refunds, but I could return the medication to them and they would put it to good use. Bye-bye one and all! As I write this, I'm trying to recall exactly how much longer Ry lived with us after his decision to stop the madness. I do recall though, that those six, seven months were pure magic – we lived with him in gratitude each day. He would wake up filled with promise to find the joy in each day. He ran, jumped, played ball, went to camp, ate all his favorite foods and found some new ones along the way. Ry was always jumping into the car ready to roll.

We always knew Ry's time with us would come to an end in a matter of months and so we made the decision to bring another Boxer fur baby home while Ry was still here and feeling well. My husband had heard of a black Boxer which was what he wanted. So I got on the internet and found a little black and white Boxer puppy. My husband named him Kc. The kennel club took care of picking him up at the airport and so on. Now, here were thinking we would be receiving a five, almost six month old puppy, not too young for Ry to have to deal with, but instead he looked so small, leading us to think he couldn't be more than eight or nine weeks old. Kc was also very weak and overly shy. After giving Kc a clean-up bath, we introduced him to Ry and Lucy, but little Kc was ignored by both dogs.

I had made an appointment with the veterinarian for the following day. There was, at the vet with Kc, when the vet tells me, in so many words, that our new puppy is indeed five months old, but may die. He told me to immediately drive Kc to the emergency veterinarian hospital a couple of miles away. I felt as though I was experiencing another out-of-body message with what I was hearing. Surreal. Our new little fur baby is dying! I again called my best friend Ming. She left work and drove Kc and I over to the emergency hospital for animals. I was caught up in a whirlwind of here we go again, another experience that was just too terrible to believe. When we checked in, the staff were waiting and rushed us into a room where a female veterinarian came in and examined little Kc. She told us he was very ill and may have Parvo. Next she told us that he was dehydrated along with being lethargic. She explained how they would look after him, but weren't sure that he'd live very long. As she walked out, a medical technician from the hospital came into the room and asked if we'd like to get the IV started on the dog because of the dehydration issues. Without any hesitation on my part, I replied, "Yes, please." However, before getting started, I was asked for my credit card first so that the hospital could authorize the charges prior to administering an IV on my dog. I was also informed they would be deducting $3,000 on the first credit card authorization and then run it each day that Kc was being treated. In other words, the hospital would estimate the charges daily and go "CHA-CHING!" They had me over a barrel. I had no choice, but you agree to be ransacked because you agree to the hold-up. They came back, returned my credit card and picked up Kc to take him for his treatment. They informed me that they would be in touch, although I too was welcome to phone up and check on Kc's progress. I had tears on the ride home, feeling so helpless for our new fur baby. I was greeted at home by my happy Boxer Ry and his little sister Lucy as poor Kc fought for his little life. Nevertheless, there is a happy ending to this chronicle. After this emotionally charged episode with Kc, his story spins off into him becoming our $60,000 Boxer! It's been an epic journey for him, and us, during his young life thus far.

Ry's story, however, came to an end one day after only one bad night. He woke me up at 2 a.m., pacing around in our bedroom. I got up with him. He wanted to go downstairs, and of course I followed him. He was struggling, so I held him all night on the couch. I spent that time talking things over with Ry. We agreed that he would go to the kennel club the next day and I would pick him up in the afternoon and then ... help him pass over. My only goal was to respect him and treat him with love and dignity during the process. In the morning my husband went to work and I had an appointment to attend that day. Ming's husband Mark came by to pick up the dogs to take them to the kennel club. I left before he arrived, but I called the kennel club to alert them to Ry's imminent passing that would take place that afternoon when I picked him up. This was my gift to the staff that loved and cared for him almost five years. He also had the opportunity to say his good-byes to so many he loved in return. When I arrived later that afternoon to collect Ry, the staff was in tears. I do believe in my heart some of them were aware, as was I, that he was ready to leave his pain and struggle behind.

We drove over to the vet where they were waiting for us and took Ry and me into an examination room immediately. The vet asked me if I wanted to keep his remains. "No," I replied despondently, "all I need for Ry is in my heart. I will always have Ry in my heart, so I don't need pieces of him, thank you." As the vet listened to Ry's heart she explained that the tumors were pushing at his lungs and he was struggling to get air. Ry sat on my lap as they prepared his frail arm for an injection. I remained there with him when it was given to him. Time may have stood still at that moment because after what seemed like only a short moment, I was told, "Ry is gone." But deep inside I knew he wasn't. I told the vet solemnly, "no he hasn't, he's still here." The vet took her stethoscope up to Ry's heart and made a shocking discovery, "You're right, his heart is still beating." Then, after what appeared to be another minute or so later, I felt Ry slowly leave his body. I could feel his soul departing. With that, he was gone – on to another adventure. I moved the four-legged body of fur that had once occupied Ry's soul. Going through the motions, I got up and left the room, paid my bill, drove home and called my husband at work. He cried. I was in a cloud of disbelief, sorrow and grief, inside I was numb, but somehow I managed to send out an email notice letting everyone know Ry was no longer with us; he had passed over to begin another adventure. I also made a request that anyone who wished could make a donation to Boxer Rescue in Ry's name. Later, as I began my sleep, my tears came flooding down as the reality of his passing hit me. It was then I could finally let go and all my feelings of loss could come tumbling out. This went on each night as I would fall asleep for many, many weeks. I don't believe that grief has a time limit, but it has a course and it ran with me. Up until that day, Ry was always the wild and crazy Boxer lover boy of the kennel club. One bad day is not bad, and now I know, with all my heart, we all made the right decision with Ry and his healthcare.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Reiki Fur Babiesby Candy Boroditsky Ming Chee-Brown Copyright © 2012 by Candy Boroditsky, Ming Chee-Brown. Excerpted by permission of BALBOA PRESS. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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