A Soldier. A Dog. And a 4 AM Remedy That Healed Them Both.

The Silent Weight of Service

Fifteen years after the Kargil War, Colonel Ari still carried the battlefield in his bones. He didn’t talk about it – not in the mess hall, not during morning drills, not even alone. But after sunset, his gait betrayed him. His shoulders slumped under the invisible weight of memory and grief.

Then came the dog.

The Pup Who Chose Her Soldier

The litter was from Simba, a fellow officer’s dog. The pups were spoken for, but one bear-like puppy with a distinct white cross on her chest walked straight up to Ari. She looked up with curious, affectionate eyes – and chose him.

Her fur was the warm golden orange of a jalebi, and when she curled up in sleep, she resembled one too. He named her Jalebi.

A Comrade in Fur

In the early days, Jalebi ran back to see her mother. But soon enough, a few car rides with the window down sealed their bond. She followed Ari everywhere – quiet, elegant, purposeful. She was not just a pet. She was on silent duty.

She guarded the door until he returned. She nudged him gently when the nights grew heavy. She understood his rhythms before he did.

The Mysterious Illness: 2 A.M. Wake-Up Calls

A few months later, she fell ill. Mysteriously.

• Her belly would bloat, then calm.

• She vomited between 2:00 and 4:00 a.m., like clockwork.

• No whining. No fuss. Just quiet withdrawal.

Despite tests and scans, veterinarians found nothing conclusive. She was not obstructed or infected. But something inside her was clearly out of sync. That was when Jalebi came to me.

What I Saw in Jalebi

She entered the clinic calmly, tail wagging. No fear. Just quiet friendliness.

As Ari described her symptoms, it was clear: this was more than a medical case. It was energetic. Emotional. Deep.

Her symptoms fit the remedy Kali arsenicosum:

• Early-morning (2 – 4 a.m.) distress

• Quiet suffering with a longing for connection

• Cyclical physical symptoms

• Digestive issues tied to fear, exhaustion, and chill

• Emotional composure masking internal anxiety

We began treatment.

The Turnaround

Within days, the vomiting stopped. Her gait grew confident. She reclaimed her post by the door.

Jalebi did not just recover. She returned restored, as if clarity – not just comfort – had returned to her.

Years Later: The Colonel Returns

Colonel Ari came back. This time, for himself.

He did not begin with symptoms. Just sat with tea in silence. Then he spoke:

• Chest tightness with no physical cause

• Nausea and dread near dawn

• Obsessive fear of something happening to Jalebi or his family

• An overwhelming need to keep functioning, without breaking

Again, it was clear: Kali arsenicosum was the remedy.

One Remedy. Two Souls.

Under close observation, Ari began treatment. Slowly, he began to:

• Breathe easier

• Sleep deeper

• Smile – not the controlled, military kind, but something softer.

“She healed first,” he said. “She showed me it was possible.”

The Hidden Heroes Among Us

Not all healing is loud.

Not all pain announces itself.

Kali arsenicosum is a remedy for:

• The silently anxious

• The dutiful who suppress their fear

• Those who suffer in rhythm – especially in the still hours before dawn

• Both humans and animals who “keep it together,” even when they are unravelling inside

Jalebi carried her cross in fur.

Colonel Ari carried his in silence.

Both found healing in the same place.

Final Thoughts: For Those Who Carry Quiet Pain

Sometimes, a dog walks into your life and teaches you what medicine alone never could.

In a world that rewards noise and action, healing often arrives in stillness and timing.

If you or someone you love – human or animal – is struggling quietly, don’t ignore the signs. Healing may come from an unexpected direction. Reach out. Ask questions. Consider Homoeopathic care.

Share this story if it moved you. Someone else may need to know that recovery is possible, even for the silently suffering.