Why The Dog Shakes

The Story

Why the Dog Shakes

As I approach my friend’s dog, Kato, I notice him trotting towards me. Kato is a shepherd-wolf mix that care-takes the mountain property a group of us are living on. As I am reaching out to touch Kato’s head, I notice the beautiful view of the entire Monterey Bay from this 1,000 foot ridge top home. A light breeze seems to acknowledge our meeting. I hear an inner voice say, “Wouldn’t a little bonding with Kato feel good?”

As if in answer, my heart magnetically orchestrates my hands and arms to contact the dog’s head.

In my past experiences petting Kato, he would turn slightly to have his tail area cared for. Other times he would put his head higher than my hand and tuck it into his thick neck fur. These two gestures seemed to be the ultimate acts of trust from a dog. On this occasion, Kato wants his neck and head petted.

Earlier in the day, I felt leftover “static cling” from last night’s work. My job is similar to that of an Indian medicine man in that I work with other people’s energy fields and as a result, I can feel when the energy of others “stick” to my personal energy field. Usually after work I practice “decompression”. I do this by engaging my body in selected yoga postures, breathing exercises, and the practice of sitting through whatever arises. The previous night I went right to bed, missing the ritual, and as a result, I was feeling a subtle sense of internal pressure.

As my hands gently stroke Kato I feel our energies merge. The juxtaposition of first feeling separate from him and then, in the next instant, feeling our merging is a very pronounced experience. There isn’t a “Craig” and there isn’t a “Kato”, but rather just a hand stroking fur.

We pass the time together in this way for a few moments and then I feel an urge “to move on” with my day. The sense of separation also arises with this thought. I gently pull my hand away and say goodbye. Suddenly, Kato is shaking violently, like he is shaking off excess water. I see subtle colors and energies moving with his shaking. I am reminded of trauma release exercises where victims are encouraged to shake and move to get suppressed energy moving out of the system. I am also reminded of a story Eckhart Tolle shares in his book, “A New Earth.” Eckhart observes that after ducks fight, they swim away from each other, flap their wings, shake, and then move on with their day.

As Kato finishes shaking, I am left with a sense of awe. What is this dog feeling that I was not aware of? More questions arose. Was he releasing trauma that I could not? Was the energy of the healing work last night still stuck in me?

The questions seem to answer themselves as “the questioner” inside me began to change. As a result, my awareness is already going to a “to-do” list of how I will utilize this teaching. The experience is archived.

I turn one last time to make contact with Kato, but he is already strolling away, down the sloping driveway and into the arched stone entry. The shadowed dog then turns towards me, and I feel us exchanging something very subtle. It is a knowing that is not quite me, not quite the dog; outside us, yet part of us. I purposefully walk back to the cabin, moving on with my day.

As I gather my things for work, I feel that I am digesting the experience. Repeated feelings, sensations, and images play themselves out of this encounter with master Kato. Starting my car, I sense I will see the dog on my way out. As I drive over the ridge top there he is. As my line of sight lowers, Kato comes into full view, wearing a smile unlike any other I have seen, even for him. At this moment I know all I need to know about why the dog shakes.