As a young girl, I knew I wanted a Saint Bernard. I collected Saint Bernard posters, pins and stuffed animals. I was married just three weeks, when I asked my husband if I could get a puppy to keep me company as he traveled for business. I was 36-years-old, when the Saint Bernard puppy of my dreams finally entered my life.
My purebred puppy has short hair and does not drool much. She came from the Beethoven breeding line: in fact, Tschaikowsky, from the movie “Beethoven II”, is her mother. In spite of her bloodlines, my puppy is considered “imperfect” because one ear is brown and the other is white.
When I held her in my arms, her mother, who weighed 150 pounds, jumped onto the couch and sat on my lap. Because it was a hot day in August, I was wearing a long white dress. I got the feeling my puppy’s mother wanted to be certain her offspring was going to a safe and happy home. I spoke with her about the impending separation; I knew they would never see each other again.
The owner advised, “You will never be able to show this puppy because she is imperfect; therefore, her dewclaws have been surgically removed.” I replied, “I’ll take her just as she is. She is perfect in my eyes.”
I graduated from the
therefore; I wanted my puppy to have a Hawaiian name. I named her Kalei (Ka-lay). In the Hawaiian language Kalei, means “beloved” or “wreath of flowers.” If one looks closely, you can make out two heart shapes in her glossy coat. Flowers are what she loves most. After she dug up all the flowers and bushes in our yard, it was time to move to a larger area. University of Hawaii
For 18 months, my husband and I searched for property to buy. A real estate agent in my networking group told me what we wanted was “impossible.” She advised it was not feasible to locate such a property; as there was nothing available, which met our criteria. My husband and I were looking for a country property, with at least 25 acres of land. We wanted a piece of land, on which it would be safe to raise our family.
I stood abruptly to leave the meeting when Charlene, the woman who married my husband and me, held my arm. Charlene told me, “Never let anyone tell you your dream is impossible. Go home now and write on a piece of paper everything you desire in your perfect property. Put the paper away, allowing The Universe to take over.” I went home and did as Charlene instructed.
Exactly one week later, I bumped into a girlfriend, whom I had not seen in several years. She was now a real estate agent specializing in country properties. I mentioned what my husband and I were searching for and she said to fax my list. The same afternoon I did so and the next morning, she faxed me information on a property just up for sale.
I was five months pregnant when my husband, Kalei and I moved to our new property. Less than one-month prior, I was told we would never find the acreage we desired. My husband named our land, Lone Pine Ranch.
The three of us settled into our new home and Kalei was thrilled with her large surroundings. One night in May of 1998, Kalei was outside running around barking at the coyotes and performing her other ranch duties. The next morning, I awoke to find her very lethargic.
When Kalei refused to eat her breakfast, I became alarmed. I called a veterinarian in town and he said I should bring her in immediately. She was not spayed therefore; he diagnosed her as having “hormonal problems.” He recommended an immediate hysterectomy.
I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and asked, “What did you say?” He said it was necessary to speak with my husband instead. After paying the cost of the examination, my son, Kalei and I promptly left his office.
We went to an emergency veterinary clinic in another part of town. There we received an even more ridiculous conclusion. This vet said since she refused to eat earlier that morning, Kalei was “becoming anorexic.” Once again, I looked a vet in the eye and demanded, “What?”
We were sitting in the car when I received an intuitive message, “The problem is under her chin.” I peeked under her chin, discovering an open wound the size of a quarter. I removed my necklace to use as a pendulum and asked Kalei’s body questions. Soon it was revealed a poisonous spider bit her.
I made a telephone call to an energy-balancing classmate, who told me about a holistic vet. We drove 40 minutes to his office where he prescribed colloidal minerals; warm compresses of castor oil over the lesion and HCS Rock Dust minerals from my greenhouse nursery.
That night, the lesion was the size of a baseball. I put my hands over the infected area; visualizing golden rays of light, with the word “HEAL” running through the light onto Kalei’s wound. Had my husband not seen her the night before, he would not have believed it possible by the following morning; the lesion would be the size of a golf ball.
With her “hormonal problems” and “anorexia” under control, Kalei was back to running Lone Pine Ranch. My best friend feels human again.