Pet Stories: In Your Own Words
My Old Man
I am a biofeedback practitioner who uses the QXCI/SCIO device developed by Professor William Nelson.
This past fall as I was downstairs working on my computer, my husband answered the door to find three hunters there who asked permission to enter our property to trace a seven point buck they had wounded with bow and arrow. They said the arrow "went high" and dislodged as the buck ran for our property.They retrieved the arrow, but they had lost the blood trail right at the corner where my land begins.
I know that buck. I call him My Old Man. He is magnificient, the largest buck I have seen in this area. My land is SANCTUARY. I believe the animals know this, and I knew he had run for "home". When I heard the story I was devastated.
My husband accompanied the hunters on their search for My Old Man, but after about half an hour they had not found him and left. I was livid. I told my husband that if I had answered the door, "They'd still be out there looking." Not only do I object to killing animals, I feel it is even worse to cause suffering and leave a wounded animal to die slowly.
I insisted that we call our neighbor who has a dog. My husband, my neighbor and the dog went back through our property. No buck.
I entered My Old Man into my biofeedback device, threw an energetic field around my property for 1000 yards and had an immediate "hit". All biorythms were critical.
For four days, on and off, I worked to try to help My Old Man. I could tell that the arrow had entered at the neck and exited just above the shoulder, missing arteries and spine. My Old Man was one lucky buck, but he was in pain, fearful of "a known origin", and I believed he was not only near but actually on my property despite two searches that did not locate him.
By day two bacterial infection had set in, and My Old Man had a very sore throat! I worked to unblock all major organs,sent energy to the infection, attempted to stimulate his oxygenation, relieve pain and a number of other things using all the energies at my disposal. I watched as the Selye bar marched from alarm to adaptation back and forth and finally to near "exhaustion", indicating that My Old Man was struggling to live and to heal. By day three, I begged my husband to put out some water. I could see that hydration was falling. "He is thirsty," I said. My husband protested that he had already put the water tank and the hoses up for the winter.
My husband simply did not believe me. After all, he had looked twice all over our twenty four acres. I continued to try to do whatever I could think of,even to sending flower energy frequencies for emotional support. When I woke on day four, I saw that the buck's hydration had improved. It was encouraging but puzzling. We have no water on our property. There is a stream across the road. It runs through a wooded area and through a farmed portion of land. After doing more, I finally gave up and started out to the mailbox.
That is when I saw the buzzards gathering in the field across the road from us. My heart sank, even though I knew why My Old Man was showing improved hydration. I climbed on my lawn tractor and motored across the road and across the plowed area of field. Because of the tall grass that was trampled down along one place in the ditch bank where several buzzards had sat, I saw the trail My Old Man had made when he apparently got up sometime during the night to go to water. Because the bank was steep, the weeds high, and the stream undercut the bank, I was not able to see the deer. Back home I went, sad as could be, convinced that My Old Man was lying along the stream bank slowly dying.
A couple of hours later as I was walking across my kitchen floor I looked out the window to see My Old Man walking very slowly from the direction of that field back toward our house. He was coming back home!!!
I keep food outside that window for the deer, as well as a water tank in good weather. My Old Man walked toward the house but turned at the feeding station without taking food and walked slowly toward the trees at the far end of the property. When he got to the corner, he flipped his tail in the air and began to trot!! I knew then he was going to make it. My Old Man slowed again, entered the edge of the trees, found a sapling and began to rub his antlers up and down on the young tree. By that time my husband had arrived home. He watched with me as My Old Man actually nibbled on some leaves. Then he laid down beside a stack of fallen logs and blended into the landscape.
Relieved and exhausted after working day and night to try to save and help this animal, I went to bed even though it was not yet dark. My husband got out the tractor, loaded the water tank in the front loader, brought out the hoses and filled the tank with water. Seeing is believing.
When I woke up later, my husband told me that the buck got up from his resting place, walked across the meadown where there is no shelter for him, and came right up to the back porch where my little Yorkies were barking their heads off at him. My Old Man just stood there, my husband told me. He stared at the house for about five minutes before he went back to his resting place.
I am certain that My Old Man knew that the energy that saved him had come from our home. He had come to thank me. At least I like to think so. Wounded bucks, during hunting season simply do not walk across a clearing to a house with barking dogs.
When I got up, I threw another field across my property and sent forth the energy of a prayer. I called the females to the buck, thinking that if they came to him, My Old Man would not leave the property again. I also sent out the energy of a prayer, asking that no blood ever be shed on my property by human hunters and that all deer would be safe within a thousand yards of this property. That will allow them to cross the road to the stream safely until I can save enough money to dig a farm pond for them.
We put out more food--hay, a mineral block, a salt block, corn and sweet feed throughout the winter. From time to time at midnight or early dawn we saw My Old Man feeding along with several doe.
I saw him the last day of hunting season when bow hunting became legal again, and I prayed he would make it just one more day, but the next day after hunting season was over, I heard a gun go off several times and I hoped that someone hunting illegally had not shot him. He is a "trophy". Two days after that we saw him and his harem again, feeding at our station. My Old Man has made it one more season. I know he would not have if I had not been able to use my biofeedback device to help. I'm very grateful for that, and I am certain that I'll see his fawns in the meadow this spring.
The females bring them to bed down in the tall grass, which we do not cut, while they graze on the new grass that we keep trimmed for them. As they grow older and as the females feel comfortable, the fawns come out to play. I watch them from my kitchen window, but I am not sure I'll ever feel again the joy I felt the day My Old Man got up out of that ditch bank and walked back home.