Geisha - the rescue dog that led me to Reiki

Mar 31, 2026By Elaine (Lainey) Bowler
Elaine (Lainey) Bowler

Geisha & The Gift of Ki: How a Rescued Dog Led Me to Reiki


By Lainey Bowler | Elaine Bowler Reiki
 
 
 
There are moments in life that quietly redirect everything. A door opens — not with a bang, but with a soft nudge, a pair of oversized paws, and a pair of dark-rimmed eyes that look straight into your soul. For me, that moment arrived in 1999, and her name was Geisha.
 
 
 
A Puppy, a Promise, and a Second Chance
She was tiny. Impossibly tiny — a small white bundle of fluff whose enormous paws and oversized ears hinted at the much larger dog she was destined to become. She was a mixed breed, that much was clear, though whatever she was crossed with remained one of life's lovely mysteries. What was no mystery was where she was headed before I found her: she was moments away from becoming part of a backyard breeding operation, her life reduced to a cycle of reproduction before it had even truly begun.
 
I adopted her.
 
She had dark, striking markings around her eyes — a natural kohl that reminded me of the elegance of Japanese Geishas — and so her name chose itself. Geisha.
 
I didn't know it then, but in choosing her, I was also choosing a path. A path that would lead me through animal rescue, energy healing, and ultimately to the ancient art of Reiki.
 
 
 
Learning to Listen Without Words
From the very beginning, Geisha and I communicated differently. There were no commands barked and obeyed — there was something quieter, something more intentional. After attending a check-up at 6 mounths, Geisha was diagnosed with a hearing impairment, and we undertook additional support with a specialist and gentle vibration collar. Through our daily training walks, mindfulness exercises, and what I can only describe as shared meditation, we began to develop a language that had nothing to do with sound.
 
I would sit with her and send love from my heart to hers. Deliberately. Consciously. Breath by breath.
 
It sounds simple. In practice, it asked everything of me — my patience, my presence, my willingness to slow down and feel rather than think. Over months of daily practice, we built something profound: an unspoken channel of communication rooted in energy and intention. Animal communication, at its most elemental.
 
This is what many practitioners now recognise as the foundational principle of energy healing — the understanding that living beings are not just physical bodies, but energetic ones too, constantly transmitting and receiving. Geisha seemed to have always known this. She was simply waiting for me to catch up.
 
 
 
The Nanny Dog: A Healer Before I Had a Name for It
As my rescue work grew, so did Geisha's role in it. She became what I can only describe as a bomb-proof dog — steady, gentle, unshakeable. Animal after animal came through my care, traumatised, shut down, or shut off from humanity, and Geisha would simply be with them. No agenda. No pressure. Just calm, consistent, loving presence.
 
She was a nanny dog in the truest sense — soothing frightened cats, grounding skittish dogs, offering comfort to creatures who had every reason not to trust a human again. She modelled trust so that others could find it.
 
When I became pregnant with my first child, Geisha adapted without hesitation. She watched my growing belly with quiet curiosity and then, when my daughter arrived, stepped seamlessly into her new role as gentle guardian. Devoted protector, she remained within 2 feet of my daughter at all times, carefully watching over her, every breath, and every miniscule noise. Remarkably, despite her own profound hearing loss, Geisha would stir and alert at the sound of my daughter's cry — long before I'd heard it myself. I believe she felt the emotional frequency of distress before the sound even reached her. The Japanese have a word for this kind of bond: Kokoro — the unity of heart, mind, and soul. is what Geisha and I shared. 
 
 
 
Three Times She Fought. Three Times She Stayed.
Geisha was diagnosed with cancer — not once, not twice, but three times across the course of her life. Each diagnosis brought with it the crushing weight that every pet owner knows: the fear, the treatment decisions, the quiet negotiations with time.
 
We pursued veterinary treatment each time, and each time she fought her way back. But it was during one of her recovery periods that our holistic veterinarian made a suggestion that would change my life forever.
 
"There is an animal blessing day at a Tibetan monastery," she said. "You might consider taking Geisha."
 
 
 
The Monastery and the Moment Everything Shifted
I arrived at the Tibetan monastery not entirely sure what to expect. What I found was stillness — a quality of silence and presence I had never encountered before in such concentrated form. The monks moved with intention. The air itself felt different.
 
That day, as part of the animal blessing ceremony, I was introduced for the first time to the formal concepts of energy healing: ki, the life force energy that flows through all living things; mindfulness, the deliberate anchoring of awareness in the present moment; and breath as a vehicle for healing.
 
Everything I had been practising intuitively with Geisha — the heart-to-heart connection, the energetic attunement, the silent communication — suddenly had a framework, a lineage, a name.
 
Reiki.
 
I understood in that moment that I had not stumbled onto something new. I had been remembering something ancient. The monastery visit didn't plant a seed — it revealed the tree that had already been growing.
 
 
 
A Gentle Passing, and the Final Gift
Geisha walked alongside me for almost 14 years. Through rescue work, through motherhood, through her own battles with illness, she remained my steadiest companion — gentle, wise, and wholly present.
 
When the time came to say goodbye, we chose a vet-assisted passing at home. It was peaceful. It was dignified. And Reiki was there — flowing through my hands, holding the space, offering her the same loving energy she had spent her whole life offering others.
 
I like to think she felt it. I know she did.
 
 
 
Why Rescue Animals and Reiki Belong Together
Geisha taught me something that I carry into every session I now facilitate: healing begins with presence.

Rescued animals, in particular, often carry the energetic imprint of fear, abandonment, and loss in their bodies long after the physical wounds have healed. They need more than food and shelter. They need to feel safe at a cellular, energetic level.
 
Reiki offers exactly that. It is non-invasive, gentle, and requires only willingness — from the practitioner, and from the animal receiving it. It does not force. It does not impose. It simply offers, and allows the recipient to take what they need.
 
This is what drew me to Reiki, and this is why I have dedicated my practice — as a Reiki Master Teacher, certified practitioner, and holder of a Certificate III in Animal Studies with specialised training in Equine and Animal Reiki — to supporting rescued and rehabilitating animals and their human companions.
 
Because sometimes a tiny white puppy with enormous paws and dark-rimmed eyes can change the entire direction of your life. And sometimes, if you're very lucky, she stays for fourteen years and shows you who you were always meant to be.
 


 
 
Lainey Bowler is a Reiki Master Teacher and certified Equine & Animal Reiki practitioner based in Ballarat, Victoria. She offers onsite and remote consultations throughout the City of Ballarat and surrounding areas.

To enquire about a session for your animal companion, contact Lainey at [email protected] or call 0425 778 292.