Sunday, September 30, 2012

Spirit Dogs at Wounded Knee

Paranormal alert:  There be spirits here.

My niece, Marcy, told me this story after her experience at the Wounded Knee National Monument. It is important to note that she has Native American blood and is very sensitive. Here is her story:

My husband and I were on a road trip on our motorcycles and decided to stop at Wounded Knee, a place I had longed to see for many years. When we arrived at the Lakota Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, it was not like anything I had expected. It was an extremely poverty-stricken reservation, with some Lakota Indian folk here and there, but not many. Tony and I parked in the dirt lot at the base of the hill, approximately 50 yards below the cemetery.

Two friendly Native men were there when we arrived and seemed eager to talk with us. They wanted to share as much information as they could about Wounded Knee.

There was another group of five Native Americans in a van parked a little farther away. It hit me that they were waiting for us to leave the bikes so they could rip us off. I often get feelings, psychic insight you might say, and this was one of those times. I told Tony about this feeling and we decided to take turns visiting the cemetery, that way one of us would be with the bikes at all times.  

I didn't want it to appear too obvious that we suspected their intentions, so I walked with Tony a few yards up the hill, and then pretended to forget something. I walked back to the bikes by myself while Tony went on to the cemetery. I rummaged through my saddlebags, pretending to be looking for something, finally pulling out my pack of cigarettes from one of the side pockets. I smoked a cigarette until Tony came back. It was now my turn.

I walked to the top of the hill, where a huge wrought iron archway stood over the entrance to the crumbling "WOUNDED KNEE CEMETERY". I stepped under the arch way and stood at the head of the graveyard which was about 20 yards long and about 8 feet wide. I imagined the 200+ Sioux buried there and contemplated the horrific tragedies that occurred where I stood.

I had walked almost all the way around the graves, noticing the many old and newer head stones—some written in English and some in Sioux. I was alone—or so I thought when an odd feeling of being watched came over me. I turned around.

An extremely large, dirty, white dog was getting up from a lying position. I thought it odd that I hadn’t noticed him when I passed that spot. He walked towards me very slowly, but was big enough to encourage me to walk a bit faster. I have an overpowering fear of large dogs and had absolutely no desire to engage him in any way.

Then, I saw other dogs coming out from behind head stones, as if they had been laying in their shade. I continued on, noticing more of them appearing, all walking towards me—staying behind the white one.

They were all big dogs of different colors, all dirty, hot and tired. I started feeling VERY, VERY uneasy so I picked up the pace, trying to stay calm. I feared if I ran, they might run after me. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry but were determinedly walking towards me—as if pushing me back to the entrance.

After I passed under the archway, I turned back to check where they were. They had stopped and were staring at me. They did not step beyond the wrought-iron entrance, even though I was just a few feet away from them.

They all made eye contact with me as I looked at each one. They were not fidgeting or looking around like normal dogs would. They just stood there, staring. Then I knew they wanted me to leave—this was not a place for me, or anyone else. This was a place of horror, lost life, anger, hatred and sadness. I left immediately, walking back down the hill. I looked back once to see them still standing there watching me.

When I reached the bottom of the hill, I asked the two Native Americans with Tony, “What the deal with all the dogs?” 

They looked at each other in a puzzled kind of way and asked, “What dogs?”

I quickly told them what I had seen, which seemed to concern them both. They told me and Tony that there were not any dogs living in the cemetery or hanging around it. I turned back  to point to the dogs, but they were gone. The two men looked at me as if I were out of my mind. They told Tony that we should leave there, now.

I'm not too sure what happened up there that day, but I know they were not dogs. I believe they appeared because they knew I feared large dogs and it was a way to get me to leave, whether because of the threat I felt from the men near the van or because of the horror of that place.
Many Native Americans believe animals are messengers from the spirit world and sometimes they give warning of approaching danger.

It is said that if a person carries dog medicine, he or she is usually serving others of humanity in some way. Marcy was working in the emergency services field at the time.

Dogs as symbols are said to embody the loving gentleness of best friend and the half-wild protector energy of a territorial nature. The dog is also an archetypal symbol of a shape shifter in Celtic myths.

What do you think Marcy saw?

Have you ever experienced a warning from an animal?

Have you ever gotten an instinctive feeling that made you change course?


Anonymous said...

Cool story, Cora.

Before I started working on a character sketch for my heroine in my paranormal, Homecoming, I first decided on her pet. It was important to me to have an animal conduit for the psychic activity. I settled on an aging bloodhound.

Tami Clayton said...

Wow, that gave me the shivers. I think Marcy's assessment of the dogs getting her to leave the area because of danger is probably close to what was going on. I think when we allow ourselves to tune in and really listen to our intuition, the messages come through, sometimes in interesting ways like with the dogs. There have been times when I've narrowly escaped personal harm because I had a bad feeling about something and listened to that instead of ignoring it.

Cora said...

Interesting, a bloodhound. Like the Hound of the Baskerville's? Is this a novel in progress?

Cora said...

Oh, I definitely listen to those intuitive feelings of danger--saved me more than once. I never discount them. I work hard at trying to hone the intuition in my writing as well.

William Doonan said...

That is a creepy cool story! Thanks for sharing it.

Marja said...

That was definitely a story that could go in a book. I've had gut feelings about things before, but I don't recall a warning like your niece had. Very interesting! Sometimes it's really difficult to pay attention to our intuition because it doesn't always make sense.

Sara Walpert Foster said...

Fascinating. I have no doubt that she saw those dogs and that they were the sign she believed them to be. I often feel like I get signs but I'm not sure that an animal has ever been the source of the sign. And when I get a sign, I do take it seriously. There is so much that we don't understand and shouldn't discount simply because we don't know if it is real or true.

BTW, I love this type of blog post!

John Brantingham said...

What an intense experience. I suppose if you're going to visit a site like this, you're going to have an intense experience, but this is interesting.

To answer the question, I've gotten the exact opposite from animals. The most memorable comes from when I used to live in the mountains. Female bears often keep to a one mile radius while the males wander. I was one of the only houses that lived in the one mile radius of a mother with cubs. I saw her all the time on my daily hikes, but I never felt anything but welcomed by her. I'd look into her eyes and she'd look into mine and we'd both move on. Of course, I never approached the cubs.

elizabethfais said...

Or...they might have appeared to you to let you know you were safe, that they were protecting you and their territory. Sprits aren't always malevolent. ;-)

elizabethfais said...

Spirits that is, not sprits. o_O

Unknown said...
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Cora said...

In developing my own intuition, it took a long time of paying attention to those "insights" that come out of nowhere. Hard to know what is imagination and what is intuition without practice.

Cora said...

Thanks, Sara, I totally agree that there is so much we don't understand and shouldn't discount.

As far as animals as "familiars", I don't have cats of my own (allergic to them) but I find many cats can easily communicate telepathically, and I would love to talk to an animal psychic about some of the dogs I've had:)

Cora said...

That is so great! To be around a bear (with cubs no less) and have her accept you, priceless. You must be a nature person.

Cora said...

Oh, I don't think she took THEM as malevolent, just that SHE has a fear of big dogs and felt more that they were pushing her out with their presence. She has been around small dogs all her life, but big ones scare her.

marta chausée said...

I loved this blog post. There are so many possibilities. I believe as the Native Americans do that animals can be spirit guides.

i had a "watchcat" for years named Buster. He warned me of peeping toms and would-be intruders at a bungalow Buster and I shared when I was a single young lady. Later, after I married and became pregnant, he would curl up on my belly and purr. It made my baby and me very happy. After Cristian was born, Buster would stand guard outside his crib, always notifying me the second Cristian became restless in his sleep or awoke. We lived in a suite on the 12th floor of a hotel at the time, and my family told me they always knew when I was about to come home from work (the times varied and I took an elevator to the 12th floor). About 5 minutes before I arrived at the front door, Buster would walk into the entry, face the front door and meow.

He purred on my tummy for my second baby, too, and Joseph's first word was "Bu-ter", as close as he could get to "Buster". Buster was a fixture in our homes until he became ill with air-borne feline herpes, of all things. We all cried like babies at his loss. He had seen me through two marriages, moves from California to Florida, back to California again and to Chicago, and nurtured my two sons. Oh waaaaa. i think I may cry again.

Cora said...

That is such a sweet story. I would loved to have 'met' Buster. He sounds very evolved:)