Clara, a 2-year-old boxer cross, survived an ordeal that few could imagine. She had been deliberately run over, dragged along a road, and shot twice in the chest with an air rifle. She was found two days later in a ditch, barely alive, but miraculously without broken bones. Her flesh had been torn from all four legs exposing her bones. She was rushed to the veterinary unit at Wood Green Animal Shelter, where she spent six arduous months recovering from her extensive injuries.When I first met Clara shortly after her release from medical care, it was evident that her physical scars were only part of the battle. Emotionally, she was deeply wounded. Her gentle spirit was overshadowed by clear signs of deep emotional trauma and depression.

Clara showed little interest in food, refused to leave her bed, and kept her tail tightly tucked between her legs, a poignant sign of her distress. To support her recovery, I offered a selection of remedies aimed at addressing both her physical and emotional needs, including rose hip shells, barley grass, and spirulina. To my surprise, Clara ignored everything, even the psychotherapeutic oils, except the rose hip shells. She ate more than a kilogram in one sitting, an unprecedented amount for a dog. Rose hips are exceptionally rich in vitamin C, which stimulates the enzymes responsible for collagen production, vital for helping to repair the deeper dermal layers affected by her injury.

Once Clara had taken the rose hips, she became more receptive to other remedies. I sensed she might now benefit from yarrow, often selected by dogs with scars from injury. When I offered it, she sniffed with interest but instinctively pulled her leg away as I approached to apply it, perhaps anticipating pain after the many medical procedures she had endured. I then introduced violet leaf, valued for its reassuring qualities, which she inhaled deeply. I then reoffered the yarrow, when a drop was applied to one of her scars, it failed to absorb, an indication that her body did not require it at that time.

Throughout the session Clara periodically inhaled neroli, a remedy frequently associated with easing emotional trauma linked to loss or separation. Since nothing was known of her life before the incident, her response to neroli suggested unresolved grief. Her gentle, affectionate nature hinted that she had once known deep love, despite the terrible ordeal she later endured. Clara went on to lick trace amounts of undiluted birch, a common choice for pain relief, and then took 30 ml of St John’s wort infused oil, renowned for addressing both chronic pain and emotional distress.

Later that afternoon, she returned for more St John’s wort, reinforcing its importance in her healing process. By the end of the day the change in her was remarkable: her tail, once tightly tucked under, now wagged freely, a clear reflection of her growing happiness and sense of security. She then eagerly engaged with everyone in the class, before nestling into me, gently licking my cheek as if to say ‘thank you.’ The despondent, withdrawn dog who had entered the classroom that morning had become almost unrecognisable.

Her transformation continued that evening. Rather than sleeping in her usual room with a staff member who did not take part in the session, she made a surprising choice, leaping onto the bed of the staff member who had participated in the course, as if seeking a deeper bond of trust. It was a poignant sign of her emotional progress. Her appetite returned, her depressive behaviours faded, and her confidence grew as she embraced life with renewed vitality. Soon after, Clara found her forever home with a loving family, where she was finally able to thrive.