by Terry Sanders, M.D.
In April of 2007, my buddy David Gregory and I were deep in the innards of my ailing computer when my wife Dorothy called, "Terry, that goat is in the yard!"
I had five sheep and one goat, which I used to keep the grass down on my three and a half acres. The goat was a pet, and I knew she wouldn't leave the property, but she was bound to eat some of Dorothy's flowers if I didn't put her up. The sheep were a different story. Half Dorper and half Barbado, they were essentially wild. I had had them for a year, and they were no tamer than the day I had gotten them. They had two speeds—walk and full speed ahead.
I also had two dogs, both Border collies. Micah was timid, quiet, and a good working dog. Susie was the exact opposite. Only two years old, she minded well when no other animal was involved. I had only worked her on the sheep once; she chased and was hard to call off. Instead of driving them to me, she drove them away—not a desirable trait in a Border collie.
David and I went into the yard. The goat was by the pasture gate. The sheep were on the far side of the pasture, behind the barn. It was getting late, and I thought that I would go ahead and shut the sheep and goats in the corral by the barn for the night. There was one problem; my horse was also in the pasture. I would have to turn her away from the corral, as I didn't shut her up at night.
I decided to let Susie pen them. I knew that as soon as she saw them, they would head for the barn at a run. I intended to put her on a lead and take her around the barn, releasing her behind them. I opened the gate a crack to let the goat in, but Susie squeezed past me and was gone like a flash. I thought that she would put the sheep against the back fence and hold them there. I rushed into the pasture, opened the gate into the corral, and then I heard the sheep coming. Susie had gotten behind them and was bringing them as fast as they could come.
This wouldn’t have been a problem, except that the horse was to my left, and I had to drive her back before the sheep got there. I waved an arm at the mare to turn her and then turned back to see that the first of the sheep had rounded the corner. She was going too fast to dodge me and was already airborne—seeing that she didn't have time to turn, she was trying to jump me.
I could see that she was going to hit me in the face, and I started to throw up my arm, but I didn't have time to complete the action before she ducked her head and hit me in the nose and forehead. The impact was so strong that the first part of my body to hit the ground was my shoulders. Then my head slammed into the ground. The other four sheep ran over me. (Each of the sheep weighed a hundred pounds.)
David had seen the whole thing from the pasture gate. He yelled to Dorothy, "Come quick! Terry is bad hurt." My memory of the incident is vivid to that point. I had an excruciating headache. With David's help, I was able to get up and walk into the house. I don't remember anything that happened for the next hour and a half. Dorothy is a Reiki Master. She put me on the Reiki bed and began giving me Reiki.
During this time, her brother, Jim Taylor, was sitting in the Dairy Queen in Bowie, Texas, 17 miles away. Suddenly the thought came to him; I need to go to Dorothy and Terry’s. He immediately got into his truck and started for our place. After giving me Reiki for a few minutes, Dorothy called Jim, who is also a Reiki Master, and learned that he was half a block away. After Jim arrived, the two of them gave me Reiki.
I had a small cut on the bridge of my nose (from my glasses); my eyes were getting black, and my face was beginning to swell. Let me pause here to say that I am an M.D. The usual aftermath from such a blow is—at the very least, a night in the hospital, with the attendant expense, and, more than likely, recurrent headaches for at least six months. Add to this my age; I had just turned 84. Old people are very prone to bruising, and they are very susceptible to injury from even a light blow.
I regained consciousness an hour and a half after the accident happened. They told me that while I was unconscious, I kept asking: “What happened; what happened?” This behavior is typical of someone who has had a concussion. When I came to, I felt normal. The small cut over my eye was still there, but all swelling and blackness were gone from my face. The headache was gone. I ate supper and went about my usual pursuits the rest of the evening. I took a nap the following morning, but other than that, I had no ill effects at all. Without Reiki, who knows?
This article is from the Winter 2008 edition of Reiki News Magazine.