Love, Miracles, and Animal Healing: A Heartwarming Look at the Spiritual Bond between Animals and Humans

Overview

Dr. Schoen provides a practical, inspiring guide for all animal lovers, in a one-of-a-kind book which explains how our love for animals enhances their health and well-being, increases our ability to communicate with them, and can literally save their lives. Line drawings. Serilaized in New Age Journal.
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1996 Trade paperback New. NEW SOFT COVER. SHIPS FROM WA-USPS. EXPEDITED SERVICES AVAILABLE. Trade paperback (US). Glued binding. 240 p. Audience: General/trade. NEW SOFT COVER. ... SHIPS FROM WA-USPS. EXPEDITED SERVICES AVAILABLE. Fireside Books, 1996. Love, Miracles, and Animal Healing: A heartwarming look at the spiritual bond between animals and humans by Pam Proctor and Allen M. Schoen. Animals; Body, Mind & Spirit; Essays; General; Healing; Nature; New Age; Non-Fiction; Pets Read more Show Less

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1996 Trade paperback New. NEW SOFT COVER. SHIPS FROM WA-USPS. EXPEDITED SERVICES AVAILABLE. Trade paperback (US). Glued binding. 240 p. Audience: General/trade. NEW SOFT COVER. ... SHIPS FROM WA-USPS. EXPEDITED SERVICES AVAILABLE. Fireside Books, 1996. Love, Miracles, and Animal Healing: A heartwarming look at the spiritual bond between animals and humans by Pam Proctor and Allen M. Schoen. Animals; Body, Mind & Spirit; Essays; General; Healing; Nature; New Age; Non-Fiction; Pets Read more Show Less

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Overview

Dr. Schoen provides a practical, inspiring guide for all animal lovers, in a one-of-a-kind book which explains how our love for animals enhances their health and well-being, increases our ability to communicate with them, and can literally save their lives. Line drawings. Serilaized in New Age Journal.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780684822730
  • Publisher: Touchstone
  • Publication date: 7/17/1996
  • Pages: 240
  • Product dimensions: 5.51 (w) x 8.45 (h) x 0.69 (d)

Table of Contents

Part I INITIATION

ONE Megan's Miracles
TWO Answered Prayers
THREE From a Dose of Beer to a Kick in the Butt

Part II BONDING

FOUR Listening
FIVE Touching
SIX Feeling
SEVEN Letting Go

Part III HEALING

EIGHT The Mystery of the Needle
NINE How Acupuncture Can Work Wonders for Your Pet
TEN The Potency of Nature's Own Prescriptions
ELEVEN Breaking Bread with All God's Creatures
TWELVE A Homeopathic Medicine Chest

Part IV TEACHINGS

THIRTEEN Animal Teachings
FOURTEEN Megan's Farewell

Appendix

Veterinary Resources
Recommended Readings
References

Acknowledgements

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First Chapter

Chapter 1

Megan's Miracles

Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals, especially for animals who are suffering; for any that are hunted or lost, or deserted or frightened or hungry; for all that must be put to death. We entreat for them all thy mercy and pity and for those who deal with them we ask a heart of compassion and gentle hands and kindly words. Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals and so to share the blessings of the merciful.
Albert Schweitzer

My awakening as a veterinarian began the day I met her.

She had the worst case of heartworm disease I had ever seen. Peering through a microscope at a slide smeared with her blood, I was aghast to see that her red blood cells were being crowded out by dozens of immature worms -- a sure sign that the disease was in an advanced stage.

That could mean only one thing. By now, thousands of insidious "microfilaria," as the baby worms are called, had already multiplied and moved into her heart tissue. There, left untreated, they had grown into adult worms up to a foot long. Little by little, they would continue to fill up her heart until she died of heart failure.

With my stethoscope, I listened to her heart and lungs and knew from the coarse sound of her breathing that she didn't have much time left. But I also knew that I couldn't just abandon her. Even though I held out little hope that she would pull through the long, dangerous treatment, something about her compelled me to try to do everything in my power to save her.

With a sigh, I looked into the tired, pleading eyes of the sick, homeless golden retriever and made a promise: "If you make it,I'll keep you."

I called her Megan, a name that conjured up images of greatness. The Irish had popularized the name as a diminutive of Margaret. And like the moon, which the Greeks called Margarita, or "great pearl," Megan was for me a precious gift that I sensed would illuminate my life.

A friend of mine had found Megan in the little Yankee town of Jaffrey, New Hampshire, not far from Peterborough, where I had my first job as a veterinarian. Day after day, the forlorn creature would wander lethargically outside my friend's office, looking for a handout and a shred of kindness. Every few steps, she would collapse to the ground in paroxysms of coughing, then struggle to get up, and, a few steps later, collapse again.

There were no identification tags. Not even a collar to suggest that once, long ago, someone had loved and cared for her. She was alone, sick, and helpless.

My friend knew where to bring her. Just the week before, I had announced my new personal dog policy: "Because I'm so busy, I don't want a dog unless it's a golden retriever, completely trained, well mannered, sweet, and loving."

That was Megan. I was hooked the minute my friend brought her late one night to my little white cabin in the woods. She had the dearest face I had ever seen. As I patted her head and scratched under her chin, she immediately nuzzled up close, as though we were long lost friends.

With a detached, veterinarian's eye, I did a quick appraisal of her condition. She appeared to be about four years old, and although her dark gold coat was dull and dry, I could tell she had once been a beauty. Now, she looked old and haggard. Her gums were pale, and her hacking cough signaled the severity of her condition. I suspected the mosquito-borne heartworm disease, which was rampant in that part of New Hampshire. Any dog that did not receive preventive treatments was almost certain to be stricken.

I spent a sleepless night, with Megan at the foot of my bed. Then the next morning I took her to my office and confirmed the diagnosis with a blood test.

The treatment that I began immediately was almost worse than the disease. Twice a day for the next two days, I injected a derivative of arsenic intravenously into Megan's bloodstream through a catheter in her front leg. The poison would slowly work its way through her system to kill off the deadly worms that were clogging her heart.

Megan must have sensed that I was trying to help her. I could tell because never once did she flinch from the needle or recoil like other dogs. Instead, she dutifully held out her paw, and as I took it in my hand to insert the IV needle, she seemed to whimper a mournful acknowledgment of my efforts.

For the next month, Megan had to be kept as quiet as possible to make sure that the remains of the dead worms were slowly reabsorbed by her body. In this delicate process, which is similar to what happens when a lump of sugar is dissolved in a cup of tea, cellular enzymes break down the worms bit by bit into chemicals that pass into the bloodstream. There, they are carried off and excreted as waste. The danger was that during this time, any physical exertion could cause chunks of the worms to dislodge and form clots that could block her lungs as well as her kidneys or liver.

I tried everything I could to keep her from moving around. During the day, I took her to the office and put her in a cage at the animal hospital, a cavernous former barn filled with about thirty different cages for recovering patients. In between appointments, I would run over to Megan, give her a pat on the head and a few words of encouragement, then rush back to my work. At night, I walked her to my car and brought her home to the cabin, where she would curl up on a thick, fluffy blanket in front of the wood stove. Many nights after a long day of work, I was out in the snow chopping wood to keep the fire stoked so that she would be comfortable.

Megan never failed to show her gratitude. When I came in from the cold with an armload of wood, she lifted her head and beckoned me to her for a warm hug. When I visited her cage at the hospital, she let me know by the tender look in her eyes that the sound of my voice and the touch of my hand were all she needed to hang in there for a little while longer.

Despite her inner calm, I was often uneasy. Like the father of a newborn baby, I awoke some nights in a panic, afraid that she had died in her sleep. I would scramble to the foot of the bed, where she was lying nearly inert, and put my head down by her nose to test her breathing. Only when I felt her breath on my face and saw her body move up and down in the quiet rhythms of respiration could I plop my head back down on the pillow to sleep.

Day by day, she improved. After about a month, she was strong enough to take the next phase of treatment -- a series of pills that would destroy any worm larvae still in her system. After another month had passed, I brought her into the office for a second blood test. By this time, her cough had gone, there was a brightness to her eyes, and her coat had the beginnings of a healthy sheen.

"Well, girl, are you ready?" I asked.

With that, Megan held out her paw for me to draw more blood. I prepared a slide, and what I saw through the microscope was miraculous. There, floating around in her plasma, were big, healthy red blood cells. There wasn't a trace of the heartworm, not even a wisp of microfilaria to hint at the horror she had faced. By all appearances, she was completely cured.

My broad smile reflected my inner excitement. As I leaned over to hug her, I must have communicated the overwhelming joy I felt because Megan let out a couple of boisterous barks, wagged her tail, and slobbered my face with kisses.

From that moment on, she came alive. As her health returned, the sweetness and warmth that had drawn me to her in the first place took on a new dimension. She seemed to possess a special gift for reaching out to others, a limitless capacity to love. It was as though she had a wellspring of maternal tenderness that created an instantaneous bond between her and her companions, no matter what the species. In her qui

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