The Killer Dog
From James Donahue’s Journal
Not a day passed that we weren't confronted with some new kind of energy that challenged our ability to discover its source and fight back. Looking back on that time, I think the Indians in the area were afraid of us and had decided to do all they could to drive us away. We began experiencing unexpected attacks of illness, back-aches, stomach aches and other pains that we could not explain. Without the help of conventional medicine, we were forced to experiment with self-healing and our own hidden mental powers. Our time with the Begays had turned into a personal training ground.
We had to learn how to do mental combat or possibly perish. Doris successfully used her little green elephant pendant to find the source of our trouble. It was almost always some kind of "hex" hidden either in our room, near the doorway to our room, and once in the dirt just outside a window next to our bed. We also used our personal energy to heal one another and mentally send the bad energy from the witch's hex back to its source. We successfully discovered the power of our minds during those frightful weeks, but at the same time, were more aware than ever of our personal danger.
The dogs played an interesting role in all of this. They began protecting us. They slept just outside our bedroom window, and when energies approached the house from the outside, they let us know. The problem was that they barked, growled and carried on numerous times nearly every night, not allowing us to get a good night of rest. I usually always got up, with either my rifle or handgun by my side, and went as far as the door to make an inspection.
Usually there was nothing to be seen. But one night I observed a rather spectacular thing. It was a clear night. The moon and all of the stars were casting their usual brilliance (which could still be enjoyed in the high desert at seven thousand feet). The landscape was clearly visible to the human eye. Yet in the middle of the road, no more than three hundred yards from the house, stood a massive blackness that could neither be seen, nor seen through. It was as if a black hole stood there absorbing all of the light. I didn't exactly fear it because I was getting familiar with this kind of weirdness. But I was amazed that such a negative energy could be created, either by the mind of humans or by conjuring up outside forces. I fired several shots into it and the only result was a scattering of the dogs. The Navajo enjoy shooting their guns at nearly everything that moves in the desert, and the dogs were all gun shy.
There were three dogs. The leader was a very small little mongrel with a lame back leg that actually kept the other two, larger animals in check. While we didn't enjoy being kept awake each night, we liked these dogs, kept them fed, and they accompanied me on my daily walks around the reservation.
One day a strange dog appeared. He was an unusually ugly mutt, dirty gray in color, and the most flea bitten, mange-infected beast I have ever seen. He was obviously hungry and aggressively pushed the other dogs away from their nightly meal, consuming all of the dry dog food and then asking for more. Doris and I have always had affection for the animals and we took him in. The Begays were away that day, which was their usual routine, so the decision was ours to make.
Because we had dogs at the house, we had things to use to treat this animal. We dosed him first with flea powder then gave him a bath. Doris spent a long time carefully going over this dog's body, checking for ticks, and treating his mange. Within days his health was returning, and he took his place in the pack.
There was something strange about this dog, however. I think now that he was a possessed creature, sent to bring us bad fortune. The witches may have sensed our love for the animals and used this stray dog to bring trouble into our lives. The problem was that we overpowered the force within the dog with our kindness. It chose not to attack us. Instead, the creature turned its energy outward. Within days all four dogs were roaming as a pack, killing the neighbor's grazing sheep. It was sickening to find the dogs waiting at the door each morning, their mouths and fur coated in blood.
It was not long before the neighbors were complaining to Raymond that a dog pack in the area was killing sheep. It was not hard to figure out what was going on. Raymond decided it was time to shoot the stray dog and stop the killing. The moment he appeared at the door with his rifle, however, the dogs scattered. I also tried. We made several attempts to shoot and kill this dog but always missed him.
Another tactic was used. Raymond had no trouble coaxing the dogs into his truck. He took this dog for a ride and gave it to another family on the other side of the reservation. I suspect he did what the other natives did on that reservation. He just dropped the animal off at someone's door. Within a few days we received word that these people had to shoot the dog because it was killing sheep. They were obviously a better shot.
From James Donahue’s Journal
Not a day passed that we weren't confronted with some new kind of energy that challenged our ability to discover its source and fight back. Looking back on that time, I think the Indians in the area were afraid of us and had decided to do all they could to drive us away. We began experiencing unexpected attacks of illness, back-aches, stomach aches and other pains that we could not explain. Without the help of conventional medicine, we were forced to experiment with self-healing and our own hidden mental powers. Our time with the Begays had turned into a personal training ground.
We had to learn how to do mental combat or possibly perish. Doris successfully used her little green elephant pendant to find the source of our trouble. It was almost always some kind of "hex" hidden either in our room, near the doorway to our room, and once in the dirt just outside a window next to our bed. We also used our personal energy to heal one another and mentally send the bad energy from the witch's hex back to its source. We successfully discovered the power of our minds during those frightful weeks, but at the same time, were more aware than ever of our personal danger.
The dogs played an interesting role in all of this. They began protecting us. They slept just outside our bedroom window, and when energies approached the house from the outside, they let us know. The problem was that they barked, growled and carried on numerous times nearly every night, not allowing us to get a good night of rest. I usually always got up, with either my rifle or handgun by my side, and went as far as the door to make an inspection.
Usually there was nothing to be seen. But one night I observed a rather spectacular thing. It was a clear night. The moon and all of the stars were casting their usual brilliance (which could still be enjoyed in the high desert at seven thousand feet). The landscape was clearly visible to the human eye. Yet in the middle of the road, no more than three hundred yards from the house, stood a massive blackness that could neither be seen, nor seen through. It was as if a black hole stood there absorbing all of the light. I didn't exactly fear it because I was getting familiar with this kind of weirdness. But I was amazed that such a negative energy could be created, either by the mind of humans or by conjuring up outside forces. I fired several shots into it and the only result was a scattering of the dogs. The Navajo enjoy shooting their guns at nearly everything that moves in the desert, and the dogs were all gun shy.
There were three dogs. The leader was a very small little mongrel with a lame back leg that actually kept the other two, larger animals in check. While we didn't enjoy being kept awake each night, we liked these dogs, kept them fed, and they accompanied me on my daily walks around the reservation.
One day a strange dog appeared. He was an unusually ugly mutt, dirty gray in color, and the most flea bitten, mange-infected beast I have ever seen. He was obviously hungry and aggressively pushed the other dogs away from their nightly meal, consuming all of the dry dog food and then asking for more. Doris and I have always had affection for the animals and we took him in. The Begays were away that day, which was their usual routine, so the decision was ours to make.
Because we had dogs at the house, we had things to use to treat this animal. We dosed him first with flea powder then gave him a bath. Doris spent a long time carefully going over this dog's body, checking for ticks, and treating his mange. Within days his health was returning, and he took his place in the pack.
There was something strange about this dog, however. I think now that he was a possessed creature, sent to bring us bad fortune. The witches may have sensed our love for the animals and used this stray dog to bring trouble into our lives. The problem was that we overpowered the force within the dog with our kindness. It chose not to attack us. Instead, the creature turned its energy outward. Within days all four dogs were roaming as a pack, killing the neighbor's grazing sheep. It was sickening to find the dogs waiting at the door each morning, their mouths and fur coated in blood.
It was not long before the neighbors were complaining to Raymond that a dog pack in the area was killing sheep. It was not hard to figure out what was going on. Raymond decided it was time to shoot the stray dog and stop the killing. The moment he appeared at the door with his rifle, however, the dogs scattered. I also tried. We made several attempts to shoot and kill this dog but always missed him.
Another tactic was used. Raymond had no trouble coaxing the dogs into his truck. He took this dog for a ride and gave it to another family on the other side of the reservation. I suspect he did what the other natives did on that reservation. He just dropped the animal off at someone's door. Within a few days we received word that these people had to shoot the dog because it was killing sheep. They were obviously a better shot.