A friend in Argentina sent me an article about a German Shepherd who just crossed over there and made the news because daily for the past six years, he has been visiting his person's gravesite. Apparently, after the person died and the dog couldn't find him, he went looking and actually found the grave on his own! Anyway, my friend thought maybe I'd want to try talking with the dog. My first thought was "no," both out of a little nervousness at never having done something like this and also because I don't typically like sad animal/people situations. But after reading a little about it online, I thought, "Well, I wonder what would happen…" So I sat down with Capitan's picture and in my mind called out, "Perro!" (dog in Spanish). I have no idea why I did this, as I would never do that in real life! I immediately heard a deep voice with a Latin accent tell me, "It's rude to just call out 'doggy.' I am not a generic dog. I have a name — and you know what it is!" His response to me as written sounds rude itself, but it didn't quite come across as that when I heard/felt it. A bit sternly, yes, but I think it was more of a cultural thing. "I'm sorry, Capitan, I was unsure about the situation and was kind of testing the waters to see if this would even work. Of course, I know you are not a nameless generic dog!" I was still hearing the voice in a deep tone with a Latin accent, like the kind in the movies. So I asked if that is really how he sounds. "It is how you expect to hear me," he answered. "Change it if you like." I tried to imagine something different and it actually worked. I now heard his voice as just a deeper male voice without the stereotypical Hollywood accent. "Capitan, you've been in the news a lot over the past six years and a lot has been written about you. Now that you have made it to your next destination, would you like to tell your story?" "You are not a reporter," Capitan said knowingly and calmly, in a way that said: you have no official business with me and I know it. "But I know you are not here for publicity. You simply want to connect, soul to soul, to hear what I have to say, and to let me know someone understands the real me." I thought about this for a moment and wondered if it was true; if it was really coming from Capitan or myself. "I think you're right," I finally told him. Then I realized I forgot to properly introduce myself. But before I could, he said, "It's not necessary. I see you." I sent him a virtual "thank you." "Capitan," I began. "It must have been very difficult and scary to suddenly be without your person all those years ago. Do you want to talk about that?" "I felt sadness and sorrow. But overriding that, I felt a certain 'mission' kick in: to find Miguel!" (Capitan's person). I just want to insert that I was still kind of anxious about this conversation. I really wanted to make sure it was accurate and not something I was making up. I reminded myself that I don't have to have all the answers and if I ask questions and don't get anything back, that's okay. "How did you know where to look for him," I asked? Capitan explained simply that "I followed his scent." But it wasn't an actual scent. I see him following some kind of energetic scent; kind of like a concentration of energy that was somehow connected to Miguel. There was a mix of emotions, including sadness and grief, swirling around this energy trail all the way to the cemetery. "Is that true, Capitan? You follow some kind of energy trail?" I asked. "Yes. I'm good at tracking," he confirmed. "Then you must have sensed all the sadness surrounding this energy and Miguel. Did you know that he passed away?" "Yes, I thought about that. But it wasn't a concern of mine. Papa (Miguel) and I were connected on a deeper level. This connection doesn't dissolve because it is not reliant on the physical plane." "Was it just a connection or could you actually carry on a relationship with him?" I wondered. "We talked. We reminisced. We just were in a state of 'being' together," he explained. "But in some ways, you still missed him, longed for him, and wondered where he was?" I asked. "Yes, the part of me that was grounded to the physical still felt the loss and pain. But more than that, I felt the hope and sense of mission that I would find him and we would reunite." I felt there was more… and there was. "At the higher level, I knew how it all worked," he clarified. "A the lower level — the street view — I had a strong desire to make sure Papa wasn't lost, that he made it to where he was going so that we would know where to meet again one day." I could feel this unfailing hope in him and it made his many years of waiting feel almost effortless. "Many people took pity on me. They came to visit. They tried to lure me away, to save me from this 'torture' they thought I was putting myself through," he explained. "I wouldn't have changed a thing." "Was some of your hope that Papa would perhaps show up one day?" I asked. "Did you constantly look around to see if he was coming or when you heard people approaching, did you think it was perhaps him?" "Yes, I always had hope. I felt if I stayed right there, he would know where to find me. A beacon." "And what happened when it got closer to your crossing over?" I wondered. "Did you know the time was almost there to reunite with him?" "No, surprisingly, I didn't. My body just gave out and that part of me was set free. My lightbeing never changed. My connection to Papa in this way never changed, so my transition wasn't a big thing." "Where are you speaking from now?" I asked. "This is my higher self, my soul, the true me, the everlasting me," he said. "And you are with Papa?" "As I said, we always were with each other in this state. That part hasn't changed. But yes, you can say we are finally reunited. But that is the story reporters want to hear. That is story for humans to stir up emotions over. But it isn't the real story." "Thank you for telling me the real story!" I said. "And do you already have plans to return to this plane with Papa?" "Oh yes. With Papa. Without Papa. With just a little Papa. With many others. All variations." I began wondering if Capitan would have a life with me, but didn't feel that at all. However, he quickly pointed out, "We are having a life together right now in some ways, are we not?" I realized that was true. Out paths did cross in this one way. How interesting it all works! "Well, thank you for talking, Capitan. Instead of the sadness I was expecting from such a conversation — and the reason I initially wanted to avoid it — your story was very interesting and full of hope." "As I knew it to be," he said. "Happy trails to you and Papa," I wished. And I was overcome by a strange feeling of foreverness, like I was just witness to a very special moment in time — of realization and awareness between two beings in a vast universe. Wow.
1 Comment
Laura
2/22/2018 03:25:04 am
Lovely and inspiring Josh
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