2,233 Miles of Healing: Travels with Pico and the Angels
My 11-month-old dog, Pico, and I set out on the longest adventure of his young life so far—driving from Arizona to Nevada and all the way to the Bay Area, north of San Francisco. Over 2,233 miles in ten days, we visited friends, camped in new places, walked among towering redwoods, and breathed deeply of the salt marsh scents along California’s north coast beaches. We also attended an inspiring dinner and garden walk with Save the Redwoods League members at Filoli House and Gardens in Woodside, California.
Our journey began with a night of camping beside a wildlife-filled pond visited by wild burros in Beatty, Nevada. The next morning, we headed out to see my friend Lisa in Gardnerville, just south of Lake Tahoe. Much of the road was under construction, and after waiting in a long line of cars, a pilot vehicle slowly led us through a stretch where fresh tar was being poured. The fumes were nauseating, and I couldn’t imagine how the workers endured it—especially when I saw only one person wearing an adequately filtered mask.
By the time we cleared the construction zone, I felt ill and a headache was setting in. I pulled over among towering Jeffrey pines with a sweeping view of Mono Lake far below. The forest provided instant aromatherapy, and Pico and I napped in our cozy Subaru bed until I felt well enough to continue.
Lisa’s household was lively, with three new human friends, three cocker spaniels, one springer spaniel, and a large cat for Pico to meet. That evening, after dinner in the living room, Pico tried to leap onto someone’s lap from a slippery floor. He slipped backward and landed hard. His cry pierced the room, and I scooped him up immediately, cradling and massaging his right rear leg. As I worked, something popped back into place.
Lisa, who has years of experience showing and training dogs, suspected he had injured his cruciate ligament—the canine equivalent of a knee ligament. She recalled her own dog who had undergone surgery for a severe cruciate injury and still enjoyed a long, happy life. She reassured me that smaller dogs often heal more easily, but I was determined Pico would recover without surgery if at all possible.
Since we were just at the beginning of our trip, I briefly wondered if we’d need to turn back. But to my relief, Pico could walk without limping after my gentle manipulation. That night, as we settled in to sleep, I started doing an energy healing with him, and I called on my angel helpers for support. Often, I invite them to amplify healing or to carry it forward over time for both humans and other animals. This time, two angels appeared. One held the space with streams of white healing light while the other performed psychic surgery on Pico’s ligament. I saw that the ligament wasn’t completely ruptured, just torn in places with surrounding muscles strained. The angel carefully stitched the tissue in a crisscross pattern and told me Pico would need at least a week of rest.
By morning, Pico was walking normally again. Fortunately, the long hours of driving with him resting in his canvas crate gave him exactly the enforced downtime he needed. On walks, he was careful, pausing at logs and looking up at me for a lift instead of leaping as he normally would. He knew and respected the “angelic prescription.”
By evening, his leg was sore again, so I massaged his muscles to release the tension and gave him another round of energy healing. We slept on the Mendocino headlands, lulled by the steady rhythm of ocean waves and wrapped in the cool morning fog. It was exactly the balm we both needed.
The following day was full of stair climbs and steep trails to reach beaches and coastal paths. Pico handled it all, though his leg grew sore by nightfall. Another healing session steadied him, and with each passing day, he grew stronger. Within less than a week, we stopped thinking about the injury.
When we finally returned home after ten days on the road, Pico raced around with his cat companions, bouncing and leaping off the furniture to chase flying toys, just as he always had. My heart overflowed with gratitude—for Pico’s resilience, for the beauty of the journey, and for the angel helpers who carried us both through this adventure with such grace.
