I was bringing the dogs in from the yard. It was dark and cold, a typical February evening in Minnesota. Our yard doesn’t extend to our door, so I had to walk the dogs across the driveway. I opened the gate and Mika, my Husky mix walked out. She is so trustworthy I don’t have to hold on to her. She walks behind me as I reach for my German Shepherd, M’kai. I wait for Lexie, my 6-month-old Jack Russell Terrier puppy, to come to the gate. I always pick her up and carry her across the cement divide. I wait about 15 seconds, maybe 30 before I decide to put the big dogs in the house and come back to get Lexie. As I close the gate and turn around, my heart jumps into my throat. There is Lexie, standing at the door, waiting to be let in.
She must have walked out under Mika when she came through the gate! She was a good puppy, but still a puppy, and not trustworthy off leash, especially 25 feet from a very busy four-lane road.
Right then, Lexie saw a couple of people walking on the other side of the street. She started dancing toward them. Not focused, like when she is hunting. Just flittering. I grabbed M’kai and put him in the house and start calling her, trying all the tricks I know to get a pup to come to you. A couple times she seemed to focus on me, but then would move towards the street again. It was a strange progression.
When she was about 10 feet from the street, I SAW her commit: "Lock and Load." I knew at that instant that she was going to be crossing the road. I quickly looked to my left and saw two cars coming, side by side. I looked right and saw one car coming, the lane closest to us. Just like that, I knew she was not making it to the other side.
I felt a combination of feelings that was completely new to me – terror, despair, disbelief, agony. It was utterly surreal. I could not believe I was in this place, this time, this situation. Reflexively, I lifted my head up, like a wolf howling at the moon, and I screamed. That scream was the most honest sound I have ever made – the purest pain, the purest prayer.
I had never, ever, screamed before that night. I did not believe I was capable of screaming at all. I had tried, and could never push anything past the barrier locking my feelings in. I talk constantly, but never get anything out of "that place."
As soon as that scream came out of my throat, I felt and saw a divine presence. If this were a movie, the darkness would have suddenly been cut with a silvery, liquid light slowly moving over everything.
Then I heard the sound I will never forget: the sound of my dog getting hit by a car.
The movie effect was over; now it was real time. I began to run to the street, slipped on the ice, sprawled, got up again. Lexie rolls, flopping head over tail in the street. She had rolled into a rag-doll sitting position and was clearly stunned. I ran to her, scooping her up. I was sobbing.
As I was running back to the side of the road, I started checking her over. Everything seemed to in the right place. Lexie’s brain, bones, muscles, and blood were all still on the inside of her skin. For that I was unbelievably grateful.
We ran inside and my husband drove us to the veterinarian. Physical exam and X-rays yielded disbelief. The staff were clear that if they did not know me, they would have thought I made the whole thing up! Not an injury anywhere – inside or out.
Then I realized I had been set up. It was a conspiracy. They had been plotting without my knowledge.
Here’s how it went down. The universe had been suggesting to me that I deal with a pretty major energy blockage in my throat area. As it so often happens, at first it was subtle, a slight pain here and there, a crick. Then more pain, my neck going out, muscle spasms. I wasn’t clueless. I knew I needed to be working on my emotional communication issues. I just wasn’t doing it. I would try a different chiropractor every couple of months, but adjustments would only hold for a couple days. Then I ended up with the four-month illness, all concentrated in my throat, sending me to the doctor and the emergency room at different times – two places I never go! They couldn’t tell me what was going on or how to fix it, and no one could stop the pain.
As it so often happens, when I didn’t heed the "hints" from the universe, it stopped nudging and started shoving. It is not the first time in my life one of my animals has agreed to help teach me a lesson.
I know now that if I had not opened up, sent up that oh-so-vocal prayer and released my feelings from deep down inside, the Angel would not have stepped in front of the car and taken the majority of the blow. It would have just grabbed Lexie and taken her back.
