BUTTONS IS MY NAME... HELPING OTHER DOGGERS IS MY GAME

I was a happy, kooky cockapoo/terrier. When I was 8-years old, I was diagnosed with deadly cancer. The vet gave me 6 weeks to live unless I had amputation, chemotherapy and radiation. Instead of conforming with the traditional prescribed treatment, my mom launched an intense holistic campaign which included clearing my inner and outer environment of all toxins, cleansing my body of all residual toxins, and then giving my body the nutritional support it needed in order to heal itself. Within a few months, I was CANCER-FREE. I thrived for an additional 11 years until I passed peacefully of old age, the week before my 19th birthday.

My mom is a writer, painter, CMT, wedding officiant, and author of

The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood. Her book has been described as: "an engaging, true story about the human-animal bond, healing canine cancer using only holistic medicine, and an empowering new take on the grieving process when a beloved animal dies."

Her mission with this book is 3-fold:

• TO inform others as to how they can possibly prevent their own beloved animal from ever getting this dreaded disease.

• TO help pet parents navigate and find comfort in the wake of devastating loss.

• TO help remove the words, "It's just a dog/cat/etc." from the lips of non pet parents everywhere.

Here is an excerpt from the book,
about the day my mom found me:

"The brother sat at one end of the cage directly in front of where we stood. At the opposite end, about four feet away, the sister lay alert and all curled up. As I reached in to pet the male pup, I was startled, when the female, who had been watching me closely, suddenly shot up and made three amazingly athletic leaps to bridge the gap between us. She then immediately and determinedly burrowed her entire front end up the sleeve of my winter parka.

Like the first time hearing some beautiful song with lyrics that seem perfectly written just for you, an unexpected surge of familiarity and tenderness raced through my body. It threatened to pierce the numbness at my core and was at the same time, both alarming and seductive. Judy looked just as surprised as I felt. She told us that this was highly unusual behavior for that female who’d only exhibited extremely shy and submissive behavior since the day she’d been born. I smiled, flattered to think that the cute little puppy was singling me out. And so at her insistence, I petted her instead of her brother, until Rachel suggested that we spend some time looking at the other dogs -- the pure Cockapoos.

As we walked the few feet over to the cages in the center of the room, the little black female began to cry and whine quite loudly. Again, her behavior shocked and amused Judy who said that that was the first sound she’d ever heard from the pup. As I sat on the concrete floor playing with the Cockapoo puppies while the serenade continued, I became aware of the subtle scent of magic in the air. Every time I glanced up from whichever pup I was playing with, the black one in the cage was staring at me intensely as she cried.

We’d been there less than ten minutes when I surrendered to the inevitable, knowing there was no mistake and that the decision had already been made. I had spent my entire life second-guessing and doubting myself, but in that moment, I was completely sure. I was the one who had been chosen. The black, female, Cockapoo Terrier mix was my dog, or more accurately, I was her person. That’s all there was to it. Period. Settled.

In retrospect, I wish I had taken her brother too, thus preventing their separation. But at that point, I wasn’t operating from the place of confidence, unconditional love, and wisdom that Buttons would spend the next nineteen years teaching me about. So after some paperwork, money exchange, and feeding instructions, Rachel and I walked back to the car with my new treasure and twenty-ninth birthday gift quietly and securely snuggled up with a small blanket in an open box."

The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood is available at all ONLINE book retailers