Peppe, You're Breathing is Perfect; You Are Healed

A week after my mother's death, as I sat in my home office, I heard a loud and clear voice inside say, "Get a puppy now!" The rightness of the thought flowed through me. A puppy would be a companion for my father and fill a bit of the hole in my brother's and my hearts. After a bit of searching, I met and adopted a 10-week-old Shepherd/Chow mix rescue  with the eyes of an angel and a pink and black polka-dot tongue. I didn't know it at the time, but his date of birth was 10/17, the exact time of day (10:17) of my mother's death. I also didn't know the puppy was about to knock on death's door.

Days after Peppe came to us, I saw he was winded and having trouble taking a full breath. A vet visit gave me a diagnosis of double pneumonia. His left lung was shut down and the right was at 20 percent of capacity.  The vet said Peppe needed immediate oxygen and antibiotics. I admitted him and felt devastated. I couldn't fathom losing him.

His doctor called every morning and we were allowed to visit for five minutes a day. Peppe was off oxygen for those five minutes. The updates weren't encouraging. The four antibiotics tried weren't working. Knowing all that, I felt a need to call for help.

Lying down, I breathed slowly till I moved into a meditative space. I called upon my and Peppe's spirit guides, my Mom, my dog Benji on the other side, the Archangel Michael, the Archangel Raphael. I called on my grandparents, my friend Tom's brother and his dog. I made one final plea to anyone on the other side willing to help.

As I felt gathered presences, I focused on Peppe. I visualized him as relaxed and comfortable, cradled in my arms and with all my spirit forces sending him love and  energy. I asked my  helpers to breathe healing into his lungs.

In my mind I saw Peppe as perfect and healed. I said to him, "Peppe, your breathing is perfect. You are healed. " Then I asked the angels and spirit forces to again breath healing into his lungs. After ten minutes, I felt a tingling sensation throughout my body. The knowing came into me that I was done and that Peppe would be okay.

The next morning, in his update, the doctor slowly said, "I'm going to let you take Peppe home. I don't know what to say except that something occurred last night. Every day, the X-rays showed no change; the evidence said the infection was resistant to everything we gave him.  Apparently, the antibiotics began working last night. The morning's X-ray tells me his lungs are at about 60 percent. I think he is well enough to go home and that  being at home with family and continuing the medication will get him completely well."

A happy and healthy Peppe was nestled at my feet as I wrote this.