Today for the challenge, I suggested on Facebook to connect with a childhood companion animal. The perspective as an adult and learning animal communicator may be interesting and fulfilling. I thought I would take my own suggestion and see if I could connect with my childhood dog, Coco. When I first started learning animal communication, I gathered up some photos of her and put them in a file with the intent to do just that. Now it was years later, and I still hadn't. I guess it was time. I didn't have a photo of her with me at the moment, so just focused on my general memory and asked if we could connect. I wasn't sure what to expect. At first, I simply got a visual of her looking very sad, like she had been waiting this long to connect with me. That didn't quite feel right to me. So I went back again to "feel" what's going on and suddenly, Coco as a younger dog burst though the sad photo like an animal would do at a circus. She was happy, spritely, and so excited to see me. I distinctly heard her nails tapping the floor as she did her "happy dance" consisting of shifting from paw to paw ultra-fast. I bent down to meet her and she gave me lots and lots of kisses. An old photo of us came to mind that perfectly reflected this scene, except I was a child then. All I could think of saying in the moment was, "Coco, thank you for being such a big part of my childhood." Though she was the family dog, I was her favorite and we had a special connection. The connection now, telepathically, didn't feel too vivid. Sometimes it feels realistic like I am "there." This time, it felt like an old photo, a bit faded and reliant on memories to bring it to life. "You were my life, too," said Coco. Of course, I knew this and thought to myself "Well, isn't that something a childhood dog would say?" But then she continued: "Your gentle nature and loving spirit is why we had that special bond. I was meant for your family and had a different and special relationship with each member. But none as deep as our connection." I wondered what, specifically, she felt was special or what were some of her fondest memories, as mine were a little faded by now. "I was your guardian and you were mine," she said. I got various visuals of scenes from the past where we were both there, not necessarily hanging out out together, but energetically connected. Just knowing the other was there made it all better for each of us. "But as a kid, I'm sure I didn't think of all of your needs or feelings or presence as I would as a more aware adult," I said. "I cringe thinking of how unthinking I may have been." "You went beyond what most would do, even as a child. You were allowed to live your own life away from me, too. It didn't need to all center around me. I went into that life knowing it would not be all roses. But a great much of it was," she explained. But I knew there were certain things that still felt raw to me; that I still felt bad about. One was going to school abroad for a year and a half after high school. When I finally returned, Coco didn't seem to recognize me and it was heartbreaking. "It's true, it was difficult for me," recounted Coco. Her voice was not male or female, just neutral, even, and calm. "I knew something was going on. The family was suddenly gone.(we took a family trip across the country, from California to New York, to drop me off for the overseas flight and we left Coco home). It wasn't the first time, so I knew they would be back. But you weren't with them when they did return. I waited and searched. I knew you were somewhere, I just didn't know where. It was painful without you. I had to shut that part off, readjust to a life without you. I was always hopeful. I knew you were there, somewhere. But not knowing where, not knowing why, not knowing when, was too much for a dog to wonder about. So I tried to close that part off. Otherwise, it would be all-consuming." I wondered how much of this conversation was true. Or was it just what I imagined it was like for her? "Can't it be both?" she answered by thought. And then continued her story. "When you finally came home, you arrived from a life I had tried to forget, one I didn't understand why it was gone and thought would never return. It was too much at first. It didn't make sense. I didn't know what to think or how to react." I distinctly remember that being true. When she saw me, she didn't seem to know me and acted nervous and without the excitement and love she used to show me. It was an unthinkable scene for me. Fortunately, within a few minutes, she seemed to get over the surprise and the recognition began coming back. Coco was going to finish that part of the story herself, but instead just pensively nodded in agreement, knowing nothing more was necessary. "It was all part of your growing process, as it was for me," Coco finally said. "We both did pretty well, didn't we?" I wanted to say, "Yes," but the sadness over losing her, moving on in life without loved ones, was overwhelming in the moment. "If you could see it from where I can, you wouldn't think this way," she said. "Your non-physical spirit is your real home base. It will always be home. Your adventures on Earth or elsewhere are just mini vacations, allowing you and us and them to have experiences otherwise not possible. We are all just playing out the roles temporarily. You've got the scenario switched because you are so immersed in your current life. That's what was meant to happen. If you could see through the scenery, the props, and scripts at all times, you wouldn't be able to fully experience what you came to experience. So you see our time together as lost forever, which in that reality, it is. But our time together as forever souls, always connected, is most certainly not lost. We are both home together, always connected and with each other, each taking those mini vacations to experience more, but always knowing we will come back home. And on a different plane, right now, we are. You and me. You and many other lost loves and dear ones. No one is gone." None of this was a new outlook for me, but somehow hearing it again, this time from Coco, was comforting. I reflected again back on my life with her, this time choosing to feel good about everything. In the big picture, there was never any permanent harm, damage, or disappointment. Just misillusionment. I first wrote disillusionment without thinking. But then changed the "d" to an "m." The new word may not be a real one, but it describes the situation. Just a redirection of what we think happened or is happening. It's a powerful process. I understand how it works and why it works, but I'd be lying if I said I have mastered switching things around in my head to make things feel better, to fully internalize that the losses we feel in physical life are just blips and part of the temporary mini vacations we are taking away from the much bigger, eternal life we are always living "at home."
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"Hi Twinkles," I opened, and then apologized for her being on the site for a while without many conversations. "I don't mind," she said calmly. "I have a real life, you know." "That's true," I affirmed. "How is it that you seem to know me immediately when I haven't even introduced myself?" I then thought to ask. Sprinkles thought about this for a moment and I could feel that it stumped her. "I don't know that I've thought of that before," she said. "It's just something that happens. It's how it works." "So you always know who is connecting with you?" I asked. Again, a moment of thought. "Well, no. Not always," she replied. "I don't know if there are rules about these things," she said in a slightly confused way. "It's okay. I was just wondering," I told her. "Do you have anything you want to talk about today?" "Fish," she answered fairly quickly and resolutely. "What about fish," I asked. "It's delicious." she proclaimed. "Do you have a favorite kind?" I asked. "Fish," she repeated. In my mind I could see her daintily enjoying fish of all kinds, colors, and sizes. To her, it was all good. "What do you like about it?" I wondered. She paused again, frozen in thought. And again, slightly confused as to why I would ask such a basic, obvious thing, retorted, "Who doesn't like fish? What's not to like? It's fish. It's delicious," she repeated. I was observing a trend happening in our conversation, where I would ask questions that are not obvious to me and Twinkles would be baffled as to why I would even ask them, since they are second-nature to her. She feels like a very straight-forward cat. Her experience is her reality and she likes that knowing feeling, being able to interact in her world without doubt. As I watched her in my mind's eye, her neck became a little elongated and then portions of her neck all the way to her head looked separated as if you would slice a sausage. This wasn't literal and didn't represent any harm to her or health issue. It kind of felt like her head (reality) was a little disconnected. Almost like she has her "head in the clouds." I wondered what else she wanted me to know about her and felt she is patient, is okay with snuggling or hanging out with her people, is observant, but not overly. She loves regular cat things, like exploring. But her domain is close to home. She prefers her world to be smaller so she can know all of it and enjoy the comfort that brings. There seems to be another animal at home and she feels neutral toward it. It's like part of the fixtures. I asked if there's anything she needs and she again said "Fish. I need fish." "Why are you so focused on fish?" I wondered. "It's delicious. It's good for your head. And your tummy. Do you have any?" she asked. "No, I'm sorry," I replied. "But I can pass that along to your people so they know how much you want fish." "They know," she said. "I always ask for it." Again I got the feeling that she was very anchored in her view of the world. What she does and thinks is all that exists. To her, there is nothing else. "I'm going to go now, Twinkles," I told her. "Where are you going?" she asked. "I'm driving out to the forest today to do some hiking," I answered She didn't seem to comprehend this, again because it isn't part of her reality. So I just said, "It's fun to get out in nature sometimes rather than just be inside all the time." "Oh!" she said with realization of what I had been describing. It seemed like now she understood. "Yes, that's fun." "Well, I hope you get some fish soon," I said in closing. "Me, too," she replied. I felt a bit in a daze after this conversation, sort of like I was feeling how Twinkles may have been feeling some of the time. And although I didn't understand the meaning, I knew to just record it and there's bound to be a reason. Feedback:When I read your comment about the fish, I just burst out laughing, and had the giggles all day, and I smile every time I think about it. I have cat tuna that I use to give my dog her tablet every morning, and when Sparkle sees the tin, she goes absolutely bananas. She even steals from the tin when she thinks I am not looking. Your visual of her having her head in the clouds, really is what she is like. She kind of lives in her own world, and cannot seem to understand that I am not there with her. She constantly wants me to touch her, and if I don’t do it , I get a paw and a claw into me. 😊 She also comes across as being very into her own life, and is social only when it suits her. Something drew me to Clove's photo and I decided I would speak to him today. When I asked him if he would like to talk, he replied emotionally, "Yes! Thank you for choosing me." He said this almost with relief like he was worried no one would want to talk to him. The other thing I noticed right away was a feminine or more gentle energy. I tried to change this in my mind in case I was just thinking this because of his name, which could be for a boy or girl. But after trying several times to tune in, I still got the more feminine energy. "It's not that important," said Clove as I was thinking about this. "Being a horse is enough." He was simply saying that in his world, he is accepted as a horse. Gender doesn't add to or take away from this standing. "But isn't it more common for males to dominate a herd, for example?" I asked. "In that way, it would matter what your gender is." "No, what matters is attitude and stature," replied Clove. "If you act like a leader and can back it up, that's enough to put you in that position, male or female." "You're saying female horses can lead a herd?" I asked. "Yes, females can become president," Clove drove home the point with a clever connection to current human experience in America. "Ha. Okay, I get it." I said. And I was about to ask if he was in a position to be herd leader, but he quickly demurred and said, "No, no, it's not for me." At that point, I wondered about his health and thought maybe I'd try a quick body scan, something I haven't done too much of and certainly not in a while. As I began, Clove said, "You won't find anything. I'm good." And, indeed, he did feel pretty healthy! I wondered what he likes to do and I see him in a field grazing. But it seemed like he doesn't like to go too far from home and tends to stick closer to where he sleeps. I also see him getting spooked by tumbleweeds. The movement makes him nervous. "What else would you like to talk about, Clove?" I asked. Instead of an answer, I just got the feeling that he doesn't need to talk, but he needs to know he is seen, appreciated, loved. In this connection, he just needed to know someone wanted to speak with him. In his life, he needs reassurances that he is "someone," not just invisible. "I understand why you feel that way, Clove," I told him. "It's pretty normal. But is there a particular reason you feel so strongly about this?" He shows me his stature and it looks like maybe he is smaller than other horses and this leads to him feeling like "half a horse" sometimes. Or at least he fears others will think of him that way. "Does that actually really happen, Clove?" I wondered. I was surprised horses would judge each other that way. "Not really, but kind of," was what he replied. The "not really" part was the bottom line, that no one really makes fun of him or excludes him because of his size. The "but kind of" part was because he perceives moments when people do judge him for this, and compare him to other horses. He can sense it, even if it is just momentary. "And you care about what others think?" I asked. After so many conversations with animals, I know that many are wise and connected to a higher source that helps them see beyond a lot of this earthly drama. "I am not a master," he replied, meaning he is not one of those wise horse gurus — at least in this life. Yet, he is here for grand reasons. To find his worth, to recognize his greatness, to bring joy and love and peace. "Those are pretty grand reasons," I commented. And he gently agreed he has a good life and a good mission. At this point, I had a quick peek at his page to see if there are any questions for him. Just one: about why he is currently so prone to being spooked. I felt him immediately tell me that it's just a cycle, all related to some of the insecurities we talked about today. Sometimes he feels more like that and other times he can shrug it off. At his lower points, he is more affected by unstable things around him, like sudden noises and movements. It will pass. And it will likely come around again. "Thank you for the conversation today, Clove," I said. "I think you are doing great and you have so much going for you. I can't see any reason why you wouldn't be liked, loved, and treated as the special and unique horse you are." He sends me a picture of him blushing, though I know it is a translation of some sort, since horses "don't partake in such human emotions." But it's a good way to help me understand how he feels about my outlook of him. And I'm glad he showed me and was able to express it! Feedback:It’s funny you spoke about leadership in herds as he has recently been not very nice to a horse larger than him who is a retired racehorse and can’t move out the way very quickly! He keeps getting beaten up by Clove....! I believe Clove is taking full advantage of this horse's weakness! Clove is definitely less spooky now he has a chat with a couple of people so I am so grateful for this 💗💗💗💗💗 Clove is very special to me and I don’t care if he’s smallest in the field . He has a huge heart and I am blessed to have him in my life. I've had a lot of "people interaction" lately and I feel burnt out on it all! So I was wondering if I should take a break today from a conversation and just go with some quiet solitude. I pondered who I would even want to speak with today if I did decide to. What felt right to me? I didn't think a deep conversation with anyone would work for me. I needed something much lighter, if anything. When I thought of this, a small "council" of trees in our forested backyard came to mind. Hmmm. Speak to the trees? They seem like they would know about solitude and quiet. Should I… and enthusiastically, the "council" waved me over to them and said, "Come! Come!" It felt like they had been waiting for this moment. I call them the council because they are a small grouping of larger trees that surround a small clearing in the forest. It feels like they form a council of elders or something like that. I virtually greeted them and sat down on the ground at their trunks and just breathed for a few minutes. I say I did this (breathed for a few minutes), but I actually wrote it before I actually did it. It felt like it was a way the trees invited me to come sit and breathe. So I did. As I sat there, envisioning myself among the trees, smelling the earthy scents of the forest, the rest of the world looked like it was doing a time-lapse. I could see in fast-motion the seasons come and go, forest critters wandering in and out, leaves changing and falling and blowing. And all the while, the actual trees remained steadfast, solid, grounded. And that was the message and point of this invitation to just sit for a few minutes. A meditation that reminds me that at any point, I can just sit — with them or anywhere — and meditate and remove myself from the happenings of the world around me. I can remain steadfast and grounded while the havoc ensues. And I did feel better. I also wanted to get to know the council trees, but felt this was not the day. This day was only for showing me what I just experienced. Exactly what I needed! I thanked the trees and took my leave — for now. But even as I walked away, it actually never felt like I was leaving, but that the whole tree scene and experience was coming with me, following me. I think I get the point of it all, the meaning behind it. And it's pretty cool. I try to choose an animal partner who feels right to me in the moment. As a scan photos, either on the page or in my mind, I am consciously aware of what just feels right or what is not quite what I need or am lookin for. As I did that today, none of the animals on the page spoke to me in that compelling way. So I decided to just close my eyes and ask if anyone out there wants to talk. I immediately saw a chimpanzee. Did this partner feel right to me I asked myself? Knowing that I was dealing with some frustrating people issues at the moment, the chimp calmly said, "We are, in many ways, like people. We deal with some of the same social and interpersonal issues. We are a social society. I understand. Shall we talk?" "Sure, thank you for reaching out," I told the chimp. I then immediately asked, "Does it stress you out to have conflict?" "When anything is out of harmony, the flow is broken and there is some degree of stress. We feel it and our instinct is to resolve it as soon as possible," he explained. "Does that mean you compromise in order to reach that point of harmony?" I wondered. "It means we get there using the shortest route possible. Often it is a relinquishment — a compromise — but we don't view it as a loss or personal failure. We look at it as what is necessary to restore peace. It's a positive move, not a sacrifice." "In other words, ego is not involved," I said. "I won't say that. Ego is often involved. But the overriding motivation — to restore harmony — supersedes ego. It's a stronger drive in us to keep the community intact." "But I think I've heard that sometimes this doesn't happen — that, for example, two males jockey for dominance. Isn't that an ego-based conflict that seems stronger than the drive to keep peace?" "It is similar, yet it is different," he said. "The similarity you can see clearly. The difference is that each male believes he can keep the peace and do a better job of leadership. So the overall drive is still to maintain harmony. Most of the time, one retains the dominant position and the other backs down." He continued, "But sometimes, there is an impasse and the only option is for one to leave. This is a sad day for all. We all feel it. But sometimes it is for the best." I thought about this. This kind of thing happens all the time with people. Probably much more frequently than with chimps, as it doesn't feel like most people have that drive to keep harmony over all else. "So what would you do if you were among those who choose ego over harmony?" I asked. "Choose harmony," he said plainly. "Keep your principles intact. Look at what's best for the common good. And do what you can to move toward harmony. Removing the dissonance in your own being is what will bring you peace. Satisfying an ego desire emanating from your mind will not necessarily do good for you or anyone else." Again, I sat for a moment to think about this, especially as it related to some of the things I was currently experiencing in real life. I wondered if this approach was similar to "consensus" that some groups adhere to, which requires everyone involved to come to a place they all agree on. If even one person still doesn't agree, they can't move forward. "That is a little different," said the chimp. "That technique is still often driven by ego. How can we convince everyone to think the same? What will it take for everyone to be on the same page? That often puts the act of consensus at the center of the goal. A chimp's goal is harmony, not consensus. If one can't feel harmony in consensus, they leave. It can happen that way with people, but I am simply pointing out some of the subtle differences." "That makes sense," I tell him. I again was trying to think about how this would play out in my situations. It still felt like the solutions were not quite in my grasp. "This will not resolve your issues," commented the chimp. "Just get you get you closer to understanding the issues. You can't turn people into chimps." "I'd like to sometimes," I said jokingly. "Hey! You say that like being a chimp is a lesser choice," he replied with some lighthearted seriousness. "Yeah, I did. I'm sorry. Don't you guys ever joke about humans?" I wondered. "You mean those things we are 'supposed' to have evolved into?" he asked rhetorically. "Of course! You give us lots to joke about. More than we give you." "I don't doubt it. Well, thank you for this this insight and for visiting today," I said. "It was a nice surprise to hear from you." How do you go from looking at an inanimate picture to having an animated conversation with that animal? I wonder that often when beginning a connection. Will it work? Will we actually have a conversation or will everything remain inanimate and stuck on the page? I wondered this again as I looked at Kylie's picture. How could it go from that frozen moment in time to an actual conversation just moments from now? I closed my eyes briefly, still with Kylie's picture in my mind and said hello. She said hello back! As I often do, I try to feel who this being is, what she is all about. I felt a happy, loving, warm dog who is a wonderful companion. She tries to get along with everyone. She seems to have some anxiety or insecurity and will second-guess herself. Am I doing this right? Does my person approve? There may also be some separation anxiety, which makes her uneasy when her person is not around. I always feel bad writing things like this down as if I'm a psychologist writing about a patient. But I don't see any other way to do it. "Does any of that sound right, Kylie?" I asked, trying to include her in the process so it doesn't feel like a doctor-patient thing. "It's not my fault," she said. "I can't help myself." "Kylie, a lot of what we all do is not 'our fault.' It's just what we are born with or given or learned because of circumstance. And many people feel things are with us to help us grow," I tried to explain. I felt she was specifically talking about the anxieties, so I reminded her, "No one is perfect and there is so much more to you than any small shortcomings. Your people adore you for the wonderful dog who you are! They accept and love all of you, not just part." No response. It felt like she was just thinking about all of this, wondering if it could be true. Suddenly, she resolved it in her head, set it all aside, and took off, playfully running, happy as can be. I could feel this was her true self. I wondered to myself where to take the conversation — what about a body scan? What about asking specific questions? But then I reminded myself to simply let it flow, see where she wanted to take things. And it was then that she said, "Let's play ball!" So that's what we did. We were in a wilderness/forest setting (possibly because of her photo, which showed some of that in the background). The ball was "tennis ball green/yellow" and blue, but was rubber. She was huffing and puffing pretty quickly, but still wanted to play. Instead, I suggested we rest at the base of a tree. I sat down and she came over and laid down, then rolled over so I could scratch her belly. She was happy, no trace of anxiety. I asked, "What else do you like to do, Kylie?" She shows me neighborhood walks, greeting people, visiting kids. She's very social and loves to interact and sort of check-in to make sure everyone is doing well. She seems to look back up at her person a lot in this same way, to make sure she is still there and see that everything is okay. She likes/needs a lot of approval and positive assurances. My day was starting to get crazy and I didn't want that energy to spill over to this conversation. So I asked Kylie if there's anything else she wanted to say or talk about. I got a lot of snippets of things (specifically related to my question) streaming through that I didn't quite understand. Like Kylie feeling like she didn't want to be a bother or that she didn't "need" to be the focus of this conversation. I also saw her shaking her head like no one will understand her (or like her anymore) if she reveals her innermost thoughts. As I thought about all of this, wondering where it was coming from, Kylie's energy changed to happy again and she said "All is well. I'm happy!" I wasn't sure if she was just trying to put on a happy face because she didn't want to trouble anyone. But I'm just passing along what I perceived and you can discard it if it doesn't feel right to you. I think Kylie is a wonderful dog and I enjoyed spending time with her. Thank you for letting her "come out and play!" Feedback:Wow, amazing!!!! You just described Kylie so well that I am impressed, really! I have no doubt you talked to her and you felt exactly the way she is. To me she also has two sides, very well described in your notes. She is a loving dog, very obedient, very sweet, very social with dogs and humans and very happy dog. Never caused us any trouble because she seems to understand very well our rules, our thoughts.... BUT here comes her other side (you described very well) that causes me troubles… she doesn’t let me come near her, I thought because she feels insecure or she is afraid. For example, I sit on a couch and it took her one year to sit on the same couch I am seated, but she chose the opposite side of the coach so she has no physical contact with me and if I try to hug her, she immediately try to escape from me, like a cat would do, pushing me away with her legs. If I lay on the floor close to her, she immediately stands up and walks to the opposite side of the room and that frustrates me. I see that when I sit close to her, and for a miracle, she doesn’t leave immediately, she starts licking her lips, she yawn, she opens her mouth all the time or lick/scratches herself nervously and in a minute… tops, she leaves. So, I think I make her nervous…. but after two years with us???? You also described her exactly when she looks at me all the time. Every time I looked at her, she is looking at me, and even my husband is a little bit worried that she is so obsessed with me, but I think she wants my approval with her behavior and anything she does. She wants to catch my feelings towards her all the time. I also know about her anxiety when I am not around, but also when I am around, I mean very close to her. I think she is afraid of being abandoned again and she tries to please us all the time and that must be exhausting for her. I have thought about that many times. I have tried many times to talk to her to tell her to relax, and I would like for her to explain to me what is her problem, why this anxiety, but to me she is a wall. You say she wanted to play with a ball? That is weird because we have tried to play with her but she is not interested in toys or balls. I even bought a blue big ball, like the one for kids, but she never wanted to play. We throw her tennis balls and she looks at us like asking: are you crazy, why did you throw the ball? She never runs after a ball. But you said she showed you her belly, well, she does that a lot, more than a lot I would say and that also worries me. Every time we call her she comes, lay down and show us her belly but ALWAYS. I would like her to be seated while I pet her but no, she always lays down showing her belly. As I settled in to talk with Tigs, a household event suddenly left me feeling on edge and I felt like I needed to return to a better headspace before connecting. Apparently, we were already connected, as Tigs just said, "No hurry. I'll wait." When I was ready, I again tuned in and said, "Sorry about that, Tigs." And then wondered to her, "What do you do when something stresses you out?" "I hide." "Hmmm. That sounds appealing sometimes, but not very practical or possible for people." To which she replied, "Plenty of people find it practical and possible. It just may not look the same as with cats. You see us go from visible to invisible (hiding) in an instant. But people who shut out the world, hole-up in their homes, avoid communication, escape through other means, are all hiding." "I see what you mean. Okay, good one." Sometimes conversations need official introductions before beginning and sometimes, like this one, they've already been made on some other level it seems. Because when I was about to officially introduce myself and ask if Tigs wanted to talk, she waved that away and said, "No need. I know who you are and why we're here. Let's just get right on with the food talk." LOL. The note on Tigs' page suggested asking her about food. Apparently it is an important topic to her. "Okay, why is food so important to you?" I wondered. "Well, it's not just me. It's important to everyone. Some look at it as utilitarian and some savor it with a different level of appreciation." "And you…" "I'm fascinated by it." Instead of words next, she gives me the visual and sensation of gently touching her tongue to some wet food with some kind of gravy or sauce on it. She is taking her time, tasting the nuances. She does the same with what looks like salmon. "It seems like you really enjoy a wide range of foods," I commented. "I enjoy tasting a wide range of foods. Not all of them are to my liking. But the exploring is to my liking." She gives me some more visuals and sensations, this time of catching and tasting some live critters, I think a mouse and a bird. The "experience" was beyond my comfort zone and I asked her to focus on prepared foods. She looked at me with a bit of surprise and wonderment, like "But, why? This is one of the best parts (of my story)." "I'm sorry, Tigs. I don't eat other animals and so I am sensitive to that. It's one thing to hear about it, but to experience it in this way is not something I wish to do." "Well, then you are missing a big part of my food story." She said this like, "How will you be able to appreciate the full picture of what I am telling you? How will you understand me completely?" "I think I can still appreciate you and your story. Plenty of stories are told just through words. Yes, pictures and sounds and smells and sensations can enhance them, but they aren't always essential." "I still feel to appreciate me completely, they are necessary," she said firmly. I felt her bristliness over this impasse and wondered how to move forward. But in an instant, she seemed to let it all go, ready to continue as if nothing happened. I marveled at this ability to just let it go like that — something difficult for many people, including me, to do sometimes. "Energy work!" she revealed. "When you know how to work with it, anything is possible." "You seem masterful at it," I observed. I thought she then replied, "Most cats are," but then it changed to "many cats are" and a picture of a young white and black cat flashed in. It was either a real cat who Tigs knows or simply a representation of young, inexperienced cats who don't yet know how to properly work with energy. There was some slight exasperation from Tigs that came along with this thought (like, "Silly cats who don't know the true ways of Cat"). I wondered to her if she wanted to continue with the food conversation, to which she answered, "I may be done." But then I saw her playing with a blueberry. "Do you like blueberries?" I asked. "Not for eating so much, but they're fun to play with," she said as she was batting one around with her paw. "And what about drinking?' I asked, inquiring about that "other" side of eating. "Well, water, of course. The main liquid. But it must be unaccompanied by other scents to be fully appreciated and tasteful to me." I distinctly felt this meant her bowl needed to be completely clean so that she only tasted and smelled water. "Yes. This is one area I won't budge on." "It's your preference and you have a right to it," I assured her. "Do you feel understood and heard through our conversation despite our previous discussion?" I wondered. She thought a moment and then admitted she did. "It turned out okay after all. I may have to adjust my standards and expectations for what is possible." "That can sometimes make things easier as long as your principles are still intact," I agreed. "I think I can make it work," she said. "Well, very nice talking with you, Tigs. Enjoy your next meal!" "You know I will," she said with a twinkle. Feedback:Your communication with Tigs comes across with such honesty...you share your experiences as you connect and it is a wonderful conversation you have with each other. I really get that you and Tigs connected with such respect for one another, and that you felt supported by her. Sounds exactly like my Tigs — very talkative this girl and she connects so very easily, no shyness in her! haha! And wise although I often tell her she's a wise-ass! She was pointing out to you that by waiting to talk you were doing your form of hiding! This little one does not mince words does she? And when Tigs has an agenda, she has a strict agenda from which she hates to wander although if you push the issue, she will. One of the things I most enjoy about this cat is that she uses every form of communication and her senses and is appalled when she sends a smell or taste and I object. As if to say "what do you mean, no thanks!" It is one thing to smell human food and quite another when she catches birds and rodents." Based on the questions on Orion's page, there are two layers of this story: Orion's perception of himself and the events and my impression based on my connection. I started to get some of my own impressions right away (Curious, adventurous, not always the bravest, gets spooked easily, loves "the hunt."), but thought I better see how he sees himself first. Because of this switch in my mind, I forgot to formally introduce myself. So when I asked if he could tell me about himself, he replied, "Are you a reporter?" It was then I realized I needed to back up and start at the beginning! So I said, "No, I'm not a reporter. Your family thought it would be interesting for you to help learning animal communicators, so you are part of a practice group. My name is Josh." "Oh, yeah," he said, now remembering what he already agreed to. "What will you use this information for?" "Just to get to know you and see how close my impressions are to real life." "Well, I'm one of the great adventurers. Bold. Fearless. Popular with the ladies." There was plenty of bravado, but energetically, an unconvincing argument! He wanted to be this personality and did his best, but he ultimately couldn't live up to it. "Are you going to comment on what I say the whole time?" he asked, a little irritated. "No, sorry. My process is to just write what comes to me, but maybe I can focus just on what you have to say first," I told him. I prompted him: "You were describing yourself…?" "Well, I like good food, but I'm not too picky. I'd rather eat than hold out for the good stuff." "What do you think is the 'good stuff'?" I asked. I see what looks like liver pate. I try to insert other options to see how he reacts, like fish, dry food, liver bits, but none of those hold his interest like the pate. As I continued tuning in, I kept getting other snippets of impressions about him and felt if I didn't write them down, I may lose them. So I would write notes, but then he would be upset that I was writing things about him that may reflect on him unfavorably. "If you're going to continue doing this, I'm out," he said. "Okay, I'm sorry. Again, it's just my process. How about you tell me about that photo of you looking up at the stained glass window?" "Oh, that was nothing," he said. It sounded like he didn't want to talk about a situation that he originally thought was important, but turned out a little embarrassing to him. "I still see you writing all of that," he said a little defensively. "It wasn't embarrassing. There was a lot of noise at the window and I had to check it out." I sense a persistent tapping at the window, like a bee was bumping into it over and over or a bird was interested in the window colors. To Orion, it was a situation that needed a hero (him). "It turned out to be nothing," he reiterated. To me, it felt like something crashed down from outside (like a melting block of snow from the roof) and he jumped back and created his own crashing event inside. Anyway, this connection was getting a little confusing for me, trying to feel what he was saying and what he wasn't saying, and then trying to record it, yet getting called out for recording it! So I'll just wrap it up with some impressions of him: He is dramatic and creates (or imagines) situations that require his prowess (acting like he is needed to stalk something or protect the household). He is a legend in his own mind, as he is not quite as stealthy as he would like and the situations he puts importance on are not quite so in reality. But generally, he's a very easy-going cat, can be affectionate, loyal, a great companion. He is a curious and amusing cat, full of character. Thank you for sharing him! As I write that, he tells me I should be thanking him, which is also true. So, thank you Orion. I think you're wonderful! Feedback:I just LOVED reading your communication with Orion. You do make each communication with the animal COME ALIVE! This is wonderful. Makes it accessible for the animal's parent to relate to what is happening as you include your process as well as the animal. And not only is your style of story-telling so compelling, there are accuracies too with the communication. Orion is a young guy who loves his canned Pate! He gets half dry and half pate now which keeps him happy. He does love to pretend to hunt and pounces on his little toy victims. On the day in question, as he gazed so cherubically at the stained glass pane, he was mesmerized by the little birds on the tree outside the window. Mom never realized they were there for she was absorbed in his handsomeness. I think he know he’s a pretty boy and he is loving but not always so brave. He hides sometimes if unsure of who is at the door to his room. Other times he’s bold and will walk right up to our large dog and then bite him on the snout before scampering off, leaving the dog wondering what just happened? Orion loves his cuddle time with Mom and we’re glad he’s part of our family. As I tuned into Shayne, I felt a gentleness, a softness. She feels pretty laid-back, calm, and loving. She doesn't feel especially nervous, uneasy, distrustful, high-strung, aggressive, or aloof. Just comfortable with herself and her surroundings and a gentle, do-no-harm nature. So I told her this! "Shayne, I really like your energy." To which she answered, "Thank you. I'm quite pleased with it." She said this as if she custom ordered something and was happy with how it turned out. "Do you ever run into trouble with others who have stronger, more aggressive energy?" I asked her. "Yes, there will always be those." She wasn't bothered by it or critical of it. She just accepted it as part of the diversity of things. "I learn to work with it, mostly by avoidance." "Good strategy," I said, and was ready to move on with the conversation, but she said, "You can't always avoid them. They demand attention and they will get it at your expense. So you give them a little and move on." This seemed like a very elevated outlook and I wondered if she is what some call "an old soul." She responded to this "wondering" with a gentle smile and said, "Who are you calling old? Why don't we just say 'experienced souls'." "Yes, that sounds better," I agreed. To be sure I understood it correctly, I started to ask whether she is, in fact, an… "experienced soul," she inserted this answer for me, confirming my feeling. And I immediately got the impression of a wise grandmother, which she also confirmed. "I am one of a rather large group of feline grandmothers, spiritually speaking. We provide counsel and guidance and grounding to our kin (cats) and others." "Ahh, so that explains your demeanor and elevated approach to life," I concluded. She nodded in confirmation. "How do you balance just being a cat and doing cat things with also being a wise role-model for others?" I wondered. "There are many ways to play this game," she said. Choose any of them. Choose them all. One doesn't exclude the other. We are meant to explore, to imagine, to put on different hats, expand in unimaginable ways. One couldn't do that by staying within a specified role. Then she added in a knowing way, "We are all just human, right?" She said this specifically to bring me back to my own experience in my human world, where we are all just people. The understanding I got from her was: It doesn't matter whether you are a billionaire, celebrity, president, farmer, factory worker, mom or dad. A role doesn't preclude you from being, doing, acting. We all have access to the human experience and can explore what we wish. "Does that mean you enjoy being a cat and doing cat things?" I wondered. "Yes, very much," she said. "Are there things you especially enjoy?" "There's a certain Zen in grooming," she began. "There's a certain curiousness to a bell ringing when you bat it; a Divineness to rubbing up against someone, feeling the life-force, the sensations; a wonderment to the sounds emitting from every corner and crevice of the world, the buzzing of life, the flow of living." "Wow, you have quite an appreciation of life," I commented. "But that doesn't sound like regular cat stuff." "Oh, it is. It's all in the details. Cats have a special way of finding them; a unique outlook. It isn't the act or activity that you should be evaluating, but the approach to it. That's where we shine." And again, I saw the word Zen. I wondered where to go from here, as the conversation seemed elevated and perfect. So Shayne teasingly said, "Am I scaring you away?" "Nah," I replied. "But any other topic just seems so trivial comparatively." "None of it is trivial," she assured me. "I can tell you want to ask about my family, for example. Yes, I am the cat in the family. I am loved and love them dearly. I am here to teach, to provide comfort, to offer love, to do all the things cats do for their human families. To explore what we create together in this life; to inspire us all to expand in ways only we can due to our unique connection and relationship. I am thrilled to be here with them and love every moment. I need nothing more." She paused briefly and then queried with a serene smile, "How's that?" "Ha! Yes, you've said it all," I agreed. "Covered all the bases." I again wondered where to go with this conversation, but realized it was now complete. Shayne waited patiently until I came to this conclusion and with an open door in case I had other things to add, but with the wise knowing that it truly was complete. And what else could I say but "Thank you" with a sense of deep gratitude. And she bowed her head slightly to acknowledge the experience. "Namaste." Feedback:Shayne is a quiet, composed, compassionate old soul. She provides so much love and comfort to me and has helped guide my own spiritual path so that all seems accurate. Her cat brother can be aggressive and she usually just puts up with it and adjusts to his mood. She is very loving and I honestly believe she thinks she is a human in this family. She grooms me sometimes just like she would a cat mom. Such good information to have. When I looked at Misty's picture (and the angle from above), Misty jumped up, still looking right at me, and tried to get me to come down to her level. She did this several times and I got the distinct feeling that she was telling me to get grounded, that if we're going to do this connection I need to pay attention and be in the "now" with her. So I sat down with her and took a moment to follow her advice. She sat there with me, very excited, got up a time or two to lick me. She howled with excitement, which surprised me, as I didn't think her breed were "howlers." So I asked, "Do you really howl?" She grinned playfully and replied, "No, I'm just happy. I can do anything virtually" "Misty, I hear you love to have fun and are very interested in learning about what others do for fun," I said. Tongue wags. Tail wags. "Do you want to first tell me about some things you do for fun?" I asked. I immediately see a happy golden retriever peeking over the fence. It seems like it is a friend of hers. I see Misty playing ball. She's so enthusiastically intent on retrieving it that she loses her footing and kind of rolls into the grass as she grabs it. I wait for her to show me something else she loves and get a rapid-fire slideshow…her taking a walk (big smile), getting a table scrap (big smile), meeting other dogs (big smile)… and lots more that went too fast to identify. Basically, she really loves life and her life! A deal's a deal, so I showed her a few things I like to do with my dog. First was mushroom foraging in the forest. I started the visuals in the car. She was bouncing with excitement. My dog was there but doesn't like too much energy around her, so I pointed that out to Misty. She scooted away from my dog to give her some more space, but then stretched her neck over to give her a bunch of gentle kisses. So sweet! I showed Misty the car ride to the forest as it went from highway to country road to forest road. She took it all in, looking here and there. I will say, I did get the visual of her peeing in the car out of excitement! I wasn't sure if that would have really happened, so tried to push the visual away, but it was persistent. When we got out of the car, Misty ran back and forth, again stumbling into the ground as she had done while playing ball. She loved the smells here. I showed her what we were looking for and she took off trying to find more. My dog doesn't search for things like that, so this was interesting to see. Misty quickly found a mushroom and began excitedly digging around it. But she ended up digging quite a large hole (very unnecessarily) because of her enthusiasm (she just kept digging because it was so fun). I wouldn't be surprised if she has a newfound interest in locating mushrooms in real life (if she doesn't already). Next I took her to the coast where there are giant sand dunes and beaches. The sand made her sink into it and she was a bit stunned/confused/curious at first, simply looking down at her feet as they disappeared into the sand. But she soon realized that when she moved, her paws would come back up (she didn't lose them!) and she quickly began to love this experience. She did seem a little out-of-sorts, though, as she wasn't able to synchronize her enthusiasm with her physical movements because the sand only allowed her to move in slow motion. So this confused her and she couldn't figure out why it was happening. When we got to the ocean, Misty stopped mid-enthusiasm. She seemed okay with the water at her feet, but was mesmerized by the vastness of the ocean that just kept going. That seemed to unnerve her a little and made her hesitant to just plunge right in to the water. But little by little, she got used to it and soon forgot about the "big picture" and focused on frolicking through the water at hand. She tried to lap up some of the water and got a big surprise (salty), looked around with a little unease, and actually went back for a little more to be sure she tasted that correctly. She did and that was the last she decided to drink. I brought her back to home. She no longer was full of energy and enthusiasm, but tired out, though very happy. I have no idea if a virtual trip like this can really play out like it did or how that would even happen, but it seemed to on my end! I thanked her for spending time with me and asked her if she had anything she still wanted to tell me. She tiredly rolled onto her side and gave an "ugh" sound and said "salty and sandy." Feedback:You are "really there" with Misty aren't you, like there is no barrier to you being with her when you connect with her telepathically. It's beautiful. You took such care and gave time to the communication. No rushing. Enjoying and giving Misty such a good time. Such clear visual information as well as emotions and word descriptions. How delightful, Josh, and insightful! Misty is very much an "in the now" dog and I had to giggle at her insistence that you get grounded since she does seem to have this amazing image of herself as being grounded which of course is simply not true and the reason why you needed to be grounded. I didn't think she realized this so it was good to hear this awareness on her part. And no, she isn't a howler but if she gets really excited, she does a remarkable imitation of a cross between a bark and a howl that comes out sounding like and oooOWhhooooOWhhhoooWHhoooO. She loves other dogs, and especially golden retrievers (probably because my last two dogs were goldens). She absolutely loves chasing the balls and slides across the grass ending up on her haunch trying to get them mostly because she starts running even before I throw it and then has to run really hard to get to it when she has no idea where I threw it. Her enthusiasm is so contagious and overwhelming, I can only imagine what your dog would have been feeling. For most other dogs, it's as if they roll their eyes skyward at her excitement as if to say "Child, take a breath, slow down". She certainly does love life!!! And loves both giving and accepting affection - she is such a little kiss-kiss pup too. Mushroom foraging! Now that is interesting! We don't have many mushrooms near where we live (desert like country) but on the occasions when we have been away visiting others, she has been known to dig around any mushroom she finds - BIG holes as if she thinks she will find a mole under it if she gets deep enough. It's interesting to hear her reaction to the sand and the ocean which she has never seen since we live inland. She is a water-dog but doesn't like deep water....I have to pitch the ball parallel to the shoreline so that she will run into the water to fetch the ball.....I have lost many because she would not swim out. I can only imagine how confusing salt water and sand would seem for her but I am fairly sure, like with everything, she'd give it a go and find a way to enjoy it. Even on solid land, she has trouble synchronizing her enthusiasm with her physical movements so I bet it was confusing to be sinking in the sand. I think it's wonderful that you had a good visit together and that she got to experience the ocean with you because it is so far away from us that she may never see it in actuality. Thanks so much for sharing these experiences with her. Misty says thanks too.....she just loved being given new experiences like you gave her and sends you a kiss PROLOGUE A day after I talked with Misty, someone else did and got a beach reference from her. So she apparently was so enthralled by the experience of virtually going to the beach, that she was taking about it as if she had actually done it! I really want to be able to communicate "in the moment" with an animal rather than just through a dedicated session where I sit quietly and talk. I wondered if any animals would help me with that. I scanned the page of photos and a few of them felt up for the challenge. But Gandalf was willing me to pay attention to him. He was fidgety with excitement. "Ok, Gandalf," I said, what do you have to say?" "You can do this," he assured me and then led me straight out through a front or back door. I see a white frame and the door is glass so you can see through it. I followed Gandalf and we were suddenly at a park. I think this was one of his favorite places. There was a grassy area that was more of an elongated narrower strip that was more accessible for people and the main area they visited. But this area connected to a much larger, more natural area that had marshes and fields and a small waterway. Gandalf was more interested in this natural area and went immediately looking for birds and critters in the marsh. His person tried to keep up and it seems she knew the inevitable would happen — and did — he went in the muddy water. His person let out an exasperated sigh and I heard mutterings of "It's another bath day, I reckon." Gandalf wasn't there to swim, just for the full-body experience. I asked Gandalf what else he wanted to show me and we were back in the house and he was eating what looked like black pudding, just a bit because it was rich. I asked, "So is this one of your favourite foods?" I heard "bangers." When I asked him about his favourite place to sleep, all I kept seeing were images of a thin, patterned rug that smelled like feet (LOL!) and a green chair. Gandalf felt like a loving and fun-loving dog who enjoyed his life. I usually try to have full conversations with animals, but this time just left it to Gandalf to just show me what he wanted me to see. I'm curious if any of it reflects his real life! Feedback:You've done really well in your communication with Gandalf. One of his favourite walks takes us through a public picnic area, but shortly after there is a narrow field we walk through, following the path of the river and at the far end it opens out into a marshy area, with a small beach down to the river, where Gandalf loved to play. It was more his sister who was into the boggy areas but Gandalf did love the water!! The image you received of the garden is exactly right — we have white framed patio doors leading to the back garden! Gandalf absolutely loved his dark meats, being raw fed, particularly Venison, but as he was on a special diet he did not get it often so it was a special treat for him and VERY occasionally he was allowed sausages for his treat search!! I can't really connect with a green chair or patterned rug but its possible that this was somewhere he felt comfortable when he was still in kennels before he came to us. I know he really struggled with the kennel environment and the kennel owner was extremely fond of him and often took him into her house, so perhaps a memory from here? Yes, Gandalf was loving and fun-loving and this perfectly sums him up!! Well done Josh! I tuned in and almost forgot to say hello. Almost. "Hi Taz, I'm Josh." "Yes, I know." He said this like, "Did you forget we've already met?" I thought about that. Yes, we kind of met when I added him to the site, but we didn't talk then. I guess he considers that having met — and maybe we did more deeply on an energetic level. "Do you feel like talking today?" I asked. "Yes, that would be nice." He said this appreciatively and thoughtfully. "Are you talking with a lot of people these days?" I wondered. "Yes, it's been quite a busy time," he responded. It didn't feel like work or a chore, but a fulfillment of a mission. "Just let me know if it's ever too much and I can hide your page for a while," I told him. Then I added, "Or you can tell the people you don't feel like talking." "I like that option," he said immediately. "Puts me in charge. I can do it." Meaning, I can take charge of this part of my life. "Great. I prefer that option, too, for the same reason," I told him. "I think people don't often think of animals as capable of thinking and feeling and interacting in the ways they know. So they tend to make decisions on their behalf." "Thank you for saying that," he replied. "It's all true. We are a species — and quite developed at that! We have our own society, our own ways, our own wisdom. It may be different from yours (humans), but it's just as advanced." "I hope some day, the majority, if not all, people will realize that!" I said. I feel Taz is very grounded, stately in many ways, proud, wise, and very interested in maintaining his independent identity. It's not like he's anti-social or doesn't want to spend time with other horses. But he wants to make sure he is seen as himself, not just "one of the horses" or "part of the herd." He nods up and down to all of this. "I get it, Taz. I know it's not an ego thing. It's a drive that we all have to be seen for who we are, recognized for our own qualities. It sort of gives our lives more purpose knowing that we are here doing our own thing, our own way, different than anyone else. In that way, we are not just taking up space, duplicating someone else. We are experiencing something unique, being someone no one else is being. We are needed and non-replaceable!" Again, he nods thoughtfully. I feel he doesn't just talk for the sake of talking, but chooses his words carefully and says what he needs to say. With that thought, I asked him if there's anything else he would like to say. He responded, "Being understood in this life will be one of my great milestones. We are at the whim of humanity, always getting pushed here or there depending on what others want. Our goal is equal footing. Two worlds co-existing. Understanding each other. Working together." "I would like that, too," I agreed. I hesitated to add, "I'm doing what I can to make that happen." I didn't want this to be about me or about accolades. But Taz encouraged, "Why not say it? It isn't a boast. It is a fact. And we all need and deserve a pat on the back every so often to let us know others appreciate us." "Thank you. It's true," I said. "Doing everything in solitude, unseen, unheard, unacknowledged is a difficult life for anyone. We need others to reflect back to us who and what we are." Shifting from philosophy to real-world stuff."Taz, this turned out to be a very philosophical conversation. Is there anything more down-to-earth you want to talk about, maybe answer any questions your people may have for you?" (I hadn't checked his page yet). "Yes, that would be enjoyable and helpful," he answered. So I checked his page and saw the questions listed. Here is how he answered: Is there anything he would like changed? "Allow me to retain my dignity." I see him in a stall with poop on the ground. I guess having to spend an extended period of time in there with it is wearing on his dignity. "I am more than just an animal. I think, I feel, I reason. You do treat me with kindness and respect. I appreciate that. If you could put yourself in my place and think how it would feel, it might help to understand my needs as a being a little more." Can he tell me anything about his previous homes and his mother? "That is another story for another day." Does he like learning new things? "Yes. But not just anything. Not inane tricks or routines for no reason. I can do more, be more. Give me something with meaning to me." I see actual "jobs" around the stable that are useful and helpful, that make things run better. Is his health okay or is he worried about anything? When I posed this question, I got a little hesitation from him, like he wasn't sure if he even wanted to touch on this topic. I didn't do a body scan or go through things systematically, but did get a feeling on labored breathing. Something in his chest/lungs. It almost felt like it was emotional or related to emotions/state-of-mind. And I also felt it related to some of the topics in our conversation. I didn't feel like it was a critical health issue, but I asked him "Is it serious?" He replied, "It's serious to me, but not life-threatening or anything for modern medicine to deal with. Just give me the space and opportunity to breathe my life." Is he happy? Yes, just feeling a bit stifled, not quite able to spread his "wings" as much as he wishes. But many other parts of his life are "quite satisfactory." To be clear, he has no ill feelings toward his people, doesn't blame them for anything, and appreciates everything they do. His sentiments in this conversation had to do with life in general, interaction with humanity in general. "I will pass along this conversation to your people, Taz. So at least you will be heard," I assured him. "Heard, yes, not herd," he responded with slight amusement, referencing the talk about individuality we had earlier. "I can see you want to be so much more than you are seen for, Taz. I hope that happens for you!" I said. "Thank you. And you, too." He winked. Feedback:Yes Taz is independent and is part of the herd but usually on the fringes as he doesn’t have to be with them and will often be by himself grazing in the field. He has been like no other horse that I have owned. He definitely is his own person and takes time to think through his decisions. I believe he has found his way to me to be a teacher and he has taught me so much, my perspective on understanding how and why horses behave as they do has been truly life changing, and this would not have happened if Taz had not been so specific about the way he is to be treated, handled and taught. I am not sure about the stabling and the poop as all my horses have freedom 24/7, they can go into their stables if they would like to or out into the field, so maybe this is a memory from a previous home when he was a baby. Taz suffers from severe anxiety and then frustration when he doesn’t understand what he is being asked to do, so he may think some of the things he is being asked to do are tricks but I thought they may help him understand what I am trying to teach. He can barely cope with being led a short distance and will never cope with being ridden, but that’s ok as he still has plenty to teach me. I had the hardest time beginning my connection with Benny. His picture is of him in his cage, so the bars created a block between me and him. I tried to picture him outside the cage, like on my arm, but it still didn't improve. I asked for any help that was available to strengthen the connection. No luck. I opened my eyes and looked directly at him, asking him if he even wanted to talk today — maybe that was the issue? No, I got the distinct feeling he was happy to talk and just waiting for me. He said, "You can get there," encouragingly. I figured since I heard him say that, there must be some kind of other barrier I've put in place. When I tried just sitting with him, my mind wandered too far. I tried to feel his energy and didn't pick up much there, either. Finally, I said, "Benny, show me your happy place." I thought maybe that might break the spell — and it did! He showed me what looked like a sun room or solarium off the main part of the house, with glass windows and walls. The sun was bright and warm. Birds were flying around outside. I didn't get crisp detail, just a warm, bright feeling from it all. It felt like Benny got to fly around outside of a cage here (or he just felt like he was!) "How are you doing today, Benny?" I asked. "Chipper!" he replied. It felt like he got to go to his happy spot recently and it did make him happy. "Is that true?" I asked. "Yes! It's paradise," he said. I feel him picturing the scene and the joy he feels being there. I also feel like there is some sadness in his heart, like he is missing a mate or friend who he used to spend time with there, but who is no longer around. When he visits the sun room and experiences the joy, he is reserving this place in his heart so this other bird can experience the joy with him. In essence, he is experiencing this activity on this other bird's behalf, living it for her since she isn't there to do it herself. "Benny, do you ever let that sadness go?" I asked. "I can lose myself in the moment, but I'm okay coming back to these thoughts and feelings," he said. "Because it's at those moments we are together." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. But then, he changed the subject when he excitedly said, "Ask me about the birds!" "Okay, what about the birds?" "They're the ones I talk to when I'm there. My friends on the outside," he explained. "Do you talk with your voice or through telepathy?" I wondered. "Both," he said. "They tell me stories about far away places. I get a picture of world travelers visiting a small town, telling stories of exotic places and fascinating the locals. "Would you ever want to go with them?" I asked. He hesitated, sort of "stopped in his tracks" at this thought. He was weighing what it would be like to travel far away or to stay here in comfortable and safe surroundings. Ultimately, it felt better to be at home. "When they tell me stories, I feel like I'm there anyway," he clarified. I could see his mind filled with colorful "videos" of these experiences, so it did feel like he was there himself. "What do you like best about being at home," I asked, then added, "other than being in the sun room?" It felt like he enjoyed his "people interaction." The familiar smells. I see him pecking at a pink hanging mirror in his cage. It swings back and forth and he likes that activity. I also see him eating what looks like millet and some larger seeds. He loves to watch what is going on and is very observant. He doesn't tune it out, but watches everything with interest. A woman in the house is his central focus. "Do you talk to your person like you do with other animals?" I asked, wondering if they used telepathy to have conversations like this. "We are connected. Mind to mind. Heart to heart. We know each other's needs or wants. Sometimes we talk, but not like this — fully conscious, two-way conversations," he said. He wasn't sad about it, but satisfied. "Do you ever go outside the house?" I asked. I see him in his cage, traveling to other locations. "Sometimes," he said. "But it's scary." It feels like it's a lot of "unknown" and makes him feel vulnerable. "Anything else you want to talk about?" I asked him. "Can you tell me a story?" he asked, and I could feel that he was referring to the kinds of stories he gets from his wild bird friends. They are more like showing experiences. So I looked out my window, to the forest surrounding our house. The trees were still holding some snow from the week's storm. The sun was just starting to alight on parts of the forest. The sky was clear and blue. I tried to capture all of that in my mind like a video and send it to Benny so he could see it. He looked around in awe. He seemed very happy with this movie. "Where are all the birds?" he wondered. I wondered that, too. "They must not be up yet. It's still pretty cold outside. But there are often lots of birds of all different sizes and varieties." I tried to picture a few. He was like a kid at the movies and I could feel his wonder and happiness. "Do you have any stories to tell me?" I asked. I got a visual of a big pond. There were trees all around. The water was fairly clear and it was softly rippling. There were some ducks floating in it and i thought I could see some fish. It was a peaceful scene. I wondered if this was somewhere he had been, which I thought unlikely. "This is one of the stories my friends told me," he said. "Oh, that makes sense. I can see why they would like that place," I commented. I wondered if there might be some longing to go there himself, but all I felt from him was pride at being able to tell this story. "Benny, thank you for visiting with me today, I really enjoyed it!" I told him. "Me, too" he replied. I could feel an energy of "Anytime-you-want-to-come-back-to-share-more-stories,-I'd-be-up-to-it-and-really-happy-to-do-it-please." He didn't say those words, it was just the feeling of it, the expectation or hope, all in a bundle. So I said, "Should we do this again sometime?" "Yes!" he said enthusiastically with an energy of "Just what I was hoping for!" "Okay, it's a deal. Have a great day!" I called. He was already happily pecking at his mirror, lost in the afterglow of his encounter. Feedback from his people:I found your interaction with him very interesting! As I read through it, a lot seemed to resonate with me, and I began to dig deeper. I've always wondered if he missed his mate, who unfortunately passed away approximately 3 or 4 years ago. He also seems to enjoy chirping and communicating with wild birds like the house sparrows every morning, or babbling to himself in his orange-pink mirror. And indeed, he also seems to observe his surroundings very well, watching us move around the house. I'm very fascinated by your conversation. I began my connection with Mark by gazing at his picture. He almost immediately turned to me, acknowledging my presence. His demeanor was bold, confident, and well-mannered. He knows he is good-looking, but has no ego about it; just confidence. The image of him switched to a different view and from further away, as if we were squaring off in a ring. But not to do battle or compete, just to talk. But Mark was having some fun and treating it like a sport. "It looks like you are doing well," I commented. "I am doing wonderfully well," he replied, with slightly exaggerated, but playful, conviction. He had kind of a "Buzz Lightyear" vibe. It was already an amusing conversation and we'd barely said a few words. "You have a healthy self-confidence," I noted. "And why not?" he replied. "If you know things about yourself, why not celebrate them?" I understood his meaning to be that many people and animals may know who they are deep down, but that is often covered up by layers of insecurities, traumas, opinions, and other things that can warp your true perception of yourself. Mark didn't want to have anything to do with that game. He could clearly see who he was and is and is using everything he's been given in this life to his advantage. "I couldn't agree more, Mark," I said. "But I wish it were as easy as you make it seem. So many of us are caught up in countless illusions that we take on during life, that it's difficult to see things clearly." "It's just how life was designed," he said. "Seeing past those illusions is part of the game." The he added, "I try to be fully who I am to show others that it's possible — to remind them there's someone purer, wholer, less altered at their core. It's always there with them and requires them to simply find it, not re-create it." "I think the clarity you have is amazing — and rare," I noted and he acknowledged. "I noticed in your photo that you have a rider. Do you like that?" I wondered. He responded enthusiastically, "I'm up for whatever my person wants!" It was clear he simply embraced everything as a positive life experience and was always happy to support someone else in their aspirations or interests. I wondered to him, "What do you like about having a rider?" I was thinking it was the shared experienced; the enhanced level of communication between horse and human. But he instead answered, "I just love to support her dreams of doing this. If it makes her happy, it makes me happy to help her." He really felt so giving and self-less, yet healthy because he was still supporting himself and his own life — being true to himself by supporting others. "So you go through life completely confident and not afraid of anything?" I asked. "That's true," he answered. "But not completely true," he added. "I am not in charge of other people's decisions and actions. And sometimes, those factors have consequences that I would prefer not happen. Those kinds of things can get under my skin. I just want things to work out well for everyone — and it just doesn't alway happen that way" "What do you enjoy, Mark?" I asked, switching directions a little. "Even if you are living to support others, you still must have your own preferences." "I like most things," he said simply. "Grooming?" I asked. "Sure," he answered. "Hay?" "Of course!" "Rain?" "Why not?" "Other horses?" "My brothers!" "Stalls" "Cozy – and temporary." At that point, I wondered if he actually had a stall or something different. I presented those options in my mind to him to see how they felt to me. It felt like he had more room than a stall — more of an enclosure — but that he had lived in stalls in the past, so knew about them. I continued my inquisition. "Cows?" "Never heard anything but good things!" "So you've never actually met one? "No," he said, still with good-naturedness. "But I'm sure I'd like them if I did." "Do you have any messages for your people?" I asked. "To reach your Mark, begin with your Mark," he said. I understood his meaning as it related to the first part of our conversation: that knowing who you really are, deep down, is how you will achieve your mark in life; how you will do what you came here to do. And on a personal level, "Mark" the horse is in your life to help you do that. "So your name is not just coincidence," I wondered. "Oh no," he confirmed. "I had a hand — err, hoof — in it." "You're saying you influenced choosing your name?" I asked. "Yes. You'd be surprised what a well-placed thought or idea can do," he said. "After everything you've told and showed me, I'm certainly not surprised," I answered. "Well, maybe a little," I admitted. "Thanks for such an enjoyable conversation, Mark," I said. "And for the positivity." "To infinity and beyond!" he replied. "Isn't that what Buzz says?" "Yes, but how do you — a horse — know about such things?" I wondered. "I don't," he said in his confident, simple way. "But you do, and that's where I borrowed it from. It's a way of supporting you and your experience." Yes, it all made sense. "Thank you, Mark. For the conversation and all you do." He sent a wave of confidence and positivity that went right to the core. As soon as I introduced myself and asked if Maisy wanted to talk today, she answered, "Why me?" Then continued after a moment, "There are plenty of other animals here to talk with." I got the feeling that there was a lot of animal activity around. She was one of many, like on a farm. Maisy feels very happy and at home here. She is especially happy because she gets to blend into the background. It doesn't feel like she wants to be in the spotlight, which explains her first question to me. "Well, your mom thought it would be fun for you to be able to talk with people and tell them things you don't usually get to express, except with other animals," I explained. "I'm not that interesting. There are others who could tell more exciting stories," she said. I replied, "I don't need exciting stories. I enjoy heartfelt connections, which I am offering you if you wish." I felt a tenseness in her body relax, as if she realized she didn't need to live up to something she couldn't. "Okay, we can talk," she finally agreed. She doesn't feel uptight or even especially low in self-esteem. She's just used to disappearing into the background and is okay with that. "What do you think of your home, Maisy?" I asked. "I like it here," she emphasized like. "It has everything I need." "What kinds of things do you need?" I wondered. "Food, friends, playing, safety, kindness, lots of space. You know, exploring space." she said. "That does sound perfect," I agreed. "Do you have a particular friend who you enjoy most?" I immediately see a grayish cat happily rubbing up against Maisy. I also see a golden/yellowish shepherd-type dog. It feels like Maisy gets along with just about everybody, but these two she feels especially comfortable with. I was still feeling strongly that Maisy was trying hard to be a "vanilla" dog — someone who doesn't want to stand-out from the crowd. So I asked her, "What makes you special?" in an effort to find out how she does stand out, thinking that we all have something unique about us. I immediately felt like she wasn't going to answer such a question, so I redirected it to her angels, wondering if I might have better luck getting an answer from those who already see her as special. I heard, "She's a connector." The explanation continued, "She binds the group together, making it cohesive, even though there are those on each end of the spectrum." So, whereas there may be those who are on opposite ends and would never socialize or even get along, Maisy is a link between them, able to get along with both of those ends, and thereby, forging a connection between them all. I could see how important that role would be in life; how necessary. "Is that really your mission, Maisy?" I asked her. "It's what I'm good at." She didn't want to confirm anything too strongly. "I think that's a wonderful undertaking," I told her. "In essence, you create and maintain peace and promote unity — all the things this world needs more of." I could tell this conversation (about herself) wasn't getting any easier. She still seemed reticent to talk about it or call attention to herself. So I changed the subject. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked, leaving it open to her. She thought a moment, then questioned, "What's it like where you live?" I showed her pictures of lots of forest trees, ferns, mountains, deer, and rain. "That sounds fun," she said enthusiastically. If someone offered to take her there in that moment, I could tell she would not hesitate! "It is pretty great," I agreed. "My favorite place is in nature." "I like the smells," Maisy added regarding her appreciation of nature. "I agree!" I said. "I'm sure my sense of smell is nothing like yours, but the distinct, fresh smell of the forest is one of the first things I notice and appreciate." She wagged her tail happily. She was finally feeling more comfortable about the conversation — or at least found a topic she liked. I wanted to tell her how special she is, but knew we had covered that topic earlier and it wasn't one she wanted to dwell on. Despite that, my thought was already "out there" and I could see it swiftly pass through her head (where she didn't want to dwell on it) and go straight to her heart, where she already knew she, indeed, is special. We all know it, but many of us have such a hard time taking our minds out of the equation so that we can simply feel it in our hearts. "Maisy, I enjoyed our conversation," I told her. "Thank you for sharing your space with me. Keep being you — because you're awesome!" She wagged her tail, quietly knowing. Feedback from her people:You have described her personality 100%. She is always in the background, doesn't like too much of being in the spotlight and comes across as very unsure at times. We live on a farm — she's one of 7 rescues I've adopted. She loves exploring outside and I we do have a golden type dog she refers to, a small stray with whom she plays wonderfully with. When I saw you referring to a cat, I immediately thought "no" I haven't had a cat since childhood. And then it struck me: I have a small dog who is the 'cat' in the house :-). She acts much like a cat with whom she's very close. I'm always joking about my cat/doggie cross breed, and Maisy likes to be close to her. She loves to do cat like things (jumping on the back rest of the coach, stalking mice, washing herself just like a cat, sniffing Maisy, etc.) and it was just really interesting that Maisy picked up on the comparison. It just taught me again that in communication, a picture will be given to show as accurate as possible the message and that I mustn't always take everything literally. Thank you so much for your communication! I understand some of her qualities much better now. I got down to Tilly's level so we were on equal bearing, looking eye to eye. She was calm but not effusive or super affectionate like some dogs are. To a human, this would make sense, seeing that we are still strangers. But many dogs seem to ignore that fact and are excitable and overjoyed no matter what. Tilly looked me right in the face, inched her nose closer, then ran, playfully to the left. After a few steps, she turned, came back a little, then was off again, as dogs do when they want you to follow them and play. I got the strong feeling of being near water, like a creek or pond. She found a big stick and ran with that in her mouth. Tilly feels sweet and loving and smart on the inside, even if her exterior persona shows a more limited range than other more expressive dogs. She loves to play, is extremely loyal and — I almost wrote protective, but stopped to check in with her about that descriptor. Tilly said, "Nope, that's not me." She meant, she is, of course, protective of her family, but not in the stereotypical pit bull sense. She's not a brute or ultra-focused on protection, she wanted to make clear. Tilly kept running up and down what felt like the edge of a small river or water element. She loves being outdoors, loves walks, loves being with her family — feels like there is one person in particular. I also see her enjoying time with other dogs, like at a dog park. I realized I hadn't introduced myself yet because Tilly immediately took off wanting to play. Soon after, I began getting insights into her personality. So this whole time I was planning to swing back to officially introduce myself. But I got the distinct feeling it wasn't necessary. Tilly didn't concern herself with formalities. She could tell who I was in other ways. I usually have more specific conversations with animals in trying to get to know them. So far, that wasn't happening. I would start asking a question and then the answer would come as a visual of Tilly showing me. She said she prefers to just embrace life, live it, not concern herself with little details. And that includes little toys and activities that some dogs might enjoy, or even their obsession with certain treats. Tilly feels more like she is a generalist — lover of life in general — and doesn't need to have favorite things (though she still does have some). I asked, "Do you have a message for your family?" Tilly replied, "She's the best." I could feel her heart expand as she said this. "We get to be together always," she added. That summed up the feeling I kept getting from her, the generalist feeling; that she is just simply happy to be here. No major hang-ups, problems, quirks. I wondered about that, so flashed the thought of anything that she doesn't like. I still got a pretty even-keeled feeling. Loud and sudden noises are alarming to her, as are aggressive dogs, and suspicious-looking people. By not being instantly accepting of everyone, she is able to sit back a little and assess people and things until she is comfortable. I wondered to her if there was anything else she wanted to say now. She answered by trying to get me to run and play with her. I again got the feeling that she would just prefer to go out and "do" life rather than talk or think about it. I said goodbye. She stopped and looked at me for a second, to kind of ponder the brief moment. Then she was off again, embracing life. Feedback from her people:That is amazingly accurate! She’s super playful, but typically in the play-with-me way as opposed to chasing balls or anything like that. We go to the dog park twice a week and she loves it, and we also spend a lot of time outside, especially hiking. She does tend to be fairly mellow and laid back most of the time (except for when she’s playing) so you were right on for that. The way she really shows affection is by giving kisses and cuddling (both of which she does to everyone), but she definitely makes it clear that I’m her person - she rarely leaves my side if she doesn’t have to, and if she does she always comes right back. She is SUPER loyal and you’re right about being “protective.” When this dog kept barking at the dog park, she kept chasing him away from me. She also does her best to avoid people who look or smell suspicious, so you were right on for that. She’s also brilliantly smart and I love it. She LOVES water, although we unfortunately live in the desert so we don’t get to see it often. This is my second conversation with Sid, after my first seemed inconsistent with his real life, according to information his people provided. Make sure to read the initial conversation first! Yesterday, I spoke with Sid and found him to be gentle and calm. In fact, most of what I experienced turned out to be just about the opposite of what his people put in his Q&As. How did I get everything SO wrong? I know this has happened to me before and it turned out there were other explanations — reasons I wasn't aware of at the time. So I thought maybe that's the case here? Or maybe I just got things wrong? I hadn't yet submitted my first conversation to his people, and that may actually shed some light on this. But I thought I would connect with him again, start fresh, and see what was up. I returned to his page, looked into his eyes, and wondered what I'd find. How could this gentle dog that I met actually be the grumpy terror (with others) his people paint him as? I immediately heard, "As long as things are going my way, I'm good." I got the distinct feeling of a split personality (maybe not in the clinical sense), where he needs to control his situation and environment to suit his needs and if things aren't going the way he wants, he lashes out — pretty much does what's necessary — to maintain things as he wants. I looked at his picture again with questioning, wondering if his eyes would tell me something more. I heard, "I'm the only one." I felt deep insecurities in him, driving his need to be an "only child," to be pampered and loved and feel secure. "Nobody's taking that from me. Nobody!" he said. It really did feel like a Jeckyll and Hyde personality. "Sid, when I approached you yesterday, you didn't even show a trace of this," I began, wanting to find out what happened. "You were sweet and gentle and your demeanor didn't threaten me," he said. "I can be perfectly sweet… when things are going well. But I can't help myself when things are suddenly out of my control." I see him reacting to sudden movements, unexpected events and visitors, and times when he has to share his peoples' attention. "Would you prefer being the only dog in the house, Sid?" I asked. "It's best for me," he said. But I also felt his sadness over this. I think he does like having another dog friend sometimes. But that feeling quickly changes as soon as that dog is on the move, potentially stealing attention, taking his stuff, stepping on him. I reflected back to yesterday's conversation, where Sid told me how he has a day bed next to the living room couch and one on the floor of the bedroom. Those facts didn't seem to be true based on what his people wrote on his page. "Those were my wishes," Sid answered my reflection. He said this in a funny way, like "Okay, you caught me while I was bending the truth. I was telling the truth — the truth of what I wished." "So you wish you had your own bed in the living room and in the bedroom so you could have your own space?" I asked. To which he replied, "That's the second choice. My first is that HE uses those beds and I get the premium spots with the people all to myself." He was referring to another dog in the house. I had to laugh to myself about this strategic thinking. I deducted the rest. "And if that can't happen, then you would take those other beds, just so you can have your space?" "I won't be happy about that," he said. And I could feel it really wouldn't resolve the issue, because he would be feeling resentful about it all. "Then what do you suggest, Sid?" I asked. "This is how family dynamics work. You are all here together in this life, likely for a reason, like to help you grow in some way, and your task is to find ways to get along." I could feel him thinking about this. And I could feel the frustration in him, being "stuck" in such a situation that required him to "grow." After a while of thinking, he said, "I need more respect." It felt like he was referring to the other dog. "I'm little," he began, then immediately inserted, "I'm NOT little." The second part was what he was projecting, not the fact. He knew he was smaller, but didn't — couldn't — show it or act like it. But he felt it. I tried to feel what the other dog was feeling and just got a happier vibe, nothing malicious and no animosity. Almost an unawareness. He wasn't meaning to encroach on Sid's territory or to disrupt his life. He was just trying to be himself. "Have you tried talking to him?" I wondered to Sid. "I've yelled at him," he replied. "I do it all the time. He doesn't listen." "Yelling at him might just come across as a reaction to something he doesn't understand he did. He might just think you're always grumpy for no reason that he can think of," I explained. "I'm suggesting you talk to him before anything happens. Tell him how you need things to be, But be fair — he lives there, too, and deserves the same love and privileges you do." I felt a softening in Sid's hard shell. He tried hard to stifle it. "Sid, the dog you were yesterday with me was gentle and loving and healthy. You can get to that place full-time if you address it rather than hide behind your anger. Your people love you more than anything and not only want you to be your happiest self, but want the family to be harmonious. You can help make that happen! I really think you will love the difference. You will feel so much better about everything." I knew one option to try and resolve this would be to talk with the other dog and maybe the people in the house and then do some back and forth negotiations with everyone. But I felt strongly that Sid needed to be the one to start talking and explaining his side directly. It was part of his path in this life. I checked in with how Sid was feeling about all of this. He was ponderous and I could feel his exhaustion — the result of years of holding up that protective facade and now realizing he perhaps didn't need to do that, but also realizing he would have to push himself to do something he was afraid to do. "Sid, you are very brave. You have lots of strength. And you are surrounded by those who truly love you. It's a safe space. You all want the same thing: to love each other and get along. I know you can do this," I encouraged. He listened but was too deep in thought to respond. I felt bad leaving him at this point, feeling vulnerable. I sent some healing energy and that seemed to fortify him. "You ready?" I asked. "Ready," he responded. "Okay, Sid, good luck. Be your best self," I encouraged. "I will." He said this with hope. "Hello there, Sid. This is Josh. Shall we talk today?" I asked. "Yes, I've been waiting." "For me or just to talk with someone?" I wanted to clarify. "Both," he said simply. I hesitated to ask him why me, as I didn't want it turn into an ego thing. "I prefer the gentle approach," Sid said in response. It didn't feel like he wanted to skirt the topic of "why me." "You are careful with your words, thoughtful in your outlook, caring in your interaction," he explained. "Thank you, Sid," I told him. "I appreciate knowing that is your view of me. I do try to put a lot of care…" Sid bluntly inserted "love" when I said "care." "Okay, a lot of 'love' into my interactions," I conceded. "I can feel you have a lot of love to give, too." "Yes. My family loves me and I love them. We're all very loved," he said. "Can you show me something you like to do?" I asked. A very sparkly ball or sphere comes to mind. "Do you like walks," I asked. "I like getting out, but my world is at home and I'm happy here," he said. It feels like his body is stiffer these days and is more difficult to move around. Once he gets going, it's fine. "Is that true, Sid — your joints are giving you some trouble?" I asked. "Yes, but it's not a big deal. I'm happy with how things are," he replied. It feels like he really likes his current situation, the routine, the surroundings, the life, and doesn't want any of that to change. "Where do you usually sleep?" I wondered. I was just trying to see what images would come to mind. I see a couch and also a nearby dog bed that seems to be in a common sitting room, like a family room. I pictured him in the bedroom at night on the bed and that didn't quite feel right. He prefers his own bed on the floor so that he can come and go with more ease. "Is there anything you want to tell your family?" I asked. He thinks a moment, then said, "Thank you. Thank you for taking such good care of me. For showing me what a loving home is like. For giving me such a good life here. Don't worry, this life isn't nearly over. But there will be many more together as well. Just so you know." "How is it that you know you will share other lifetimes together, Sid?" I asked. "I just feel that's how it is," he said. "You know? That feeling — like when you feel something is right or in the groove?" "Yeah, I know the feeling," I acknowledged. "Well, enjoy your wonderful life — or lives — with your family," I said. "I'm very happy you all 'found' each other," I said, knowing it wasn't chance, but all planned that way from the start. "And I'm very happy we met and had such a nice conversation," I added. "Me too," said Sid. "Come back anytime." "Thank you for that open invitation," I said, knowing it wasn't one he extended lightly. "See? Being a gentle, loving guy comes in handy," he pointed out. His demeanor was soft, even, and gentle, as well. "Yeah," I agreed. "I wouldn't want to have it any other way." Based on information Sid's people provided in advance (but that I hadn't yet looked at until after this conversation), I discovered that many of the facts in this connection were not true! For example, he loves long walks, he sleeps in bed with his people, he is often cranky and snappy, especially around the other dog in the house. Not the sweet, gentle dog I talked with! I was very curious as to what had happened. When things like this occurred before, there always turned out to be some other pieces I didn't have yet that made up the big picture, finally creating some sense. So I decided to have another conversation with him the next day. You can read it here. As soon as I saw Ella, I was drawn to her. She feels gentle and tender inside, but has a wall up that can make her hard to reach sometimes. For this reason, she is not quick to trust. But anyone who makes it onto that other side of the barrier will find a beautiful and sensitive cat. After introducing myself and asking her if she wanted to talk today, I could feel her immediate instinct was to run and hide. She fought this, but it was a strong force. I started to reach out and say, "Wait, I just want to talk," but felt that would be too invasive. So instead, I simply said, "Ella, I know you don't know me and have no reason to trust me right away. But if you take a moment and just feel my energy, I think you'll find my intentions are pure. As she scampered a little ways away, she did stop briefly to feel my energy, realized it was safe, turned, and sat down facing me, but a distance away. I sat, then laid down on the floor (virtually) to give her the space and time to become more comfortable with the situation. Eventually, she walked to me and sat down. I stroked her back and she mewed. "What are some of the things you like to do around here?" I asked her gently. I thought this might be a safe question. I got some initial flashes of her walking up and down a staircase with a railing open to below and poking her head into each space between the bars to see the view. I also saw her immediately head for a cat door and some bushes and grass outside. It felt like she was very comfortable with the outdoors. It was pretty hazy and I wasn't sure if any of that was actually right. So I pictured toys and presented that idea to her, but there seemed to be a very low interest level when it comes to playing, like it wasn't part of her vocabulary or way of being. She couldn't see the point. "What do you like to eat?" I then asked. I see her eating something fishy. It could have been canned food. She seems to like it. As she eats, she looks around to make sure no one else is going to take her food or sneak up on her. I then asked her how she came to her current home. Nothing clear came through for me, so I decided to alter the question. "Ella, can you show me where you lived before you came to your current home?" I immediately got lots of fast movement. When I backed up a little, I realized it was a street or highway with cars whizzing by. I wasn't getting any more detail, though I tried inserting scenarios for her to "approve" or "disapprove." It felt like she didn't really want all this attention on her, but preferred to be the observer of others. She waits to see what's going to happen in a situation before acting. I decided to try not to ask her any direct questions for a while and see if she was more comfortable with that. I wondered if she spends time with any other cats. What looked like a Siamese cat walked into the picture. It felt like there was some comfort with this cat. Not a strong connection, but no animosity. Ella seems to spend a lot of time just watching what this cat will do. I wondered about her relationship with people. Did she even want that kind of connection? The feeling I got was yes, she does want it. It feels good to her, but it's difficult for her to feel comfortable enough to let her guard down. I then wondered how she felt about where she is living. Again, I felt a "wait and see" approach. She has her walls up, but deep down, feels that she could be happy here for the rest of her life. She can envision that. She feels that there is the right love and safety for her. She just has to get to a place where she can feel it more. I continued using this indirect question approach, wondering what will get her to a place of trust. She said, "When everything else is already in place, then the only thing left is time." "I agree with that, Ella," I tried to be supportive. "I can see you are trying and I think you will get there. Keep letting the love get through as much as you are able — I can feel there is lots of it for you." I see someone kissing her. She stiffens, but at the same time, tries to soften and roll her head into it. She really is trying! "Can I send you some energy healing?" I asked. Her immediate instinct was "No" but she caught herself, knowing that wouldn't get her further along the path she really wants to travel. So she instead accepted. I was interested to see what would happen when I started sending the energy, so I watched for a reaction. Initially, I saw her body soften, sort of luxuriate in the love. But then I saw what looked like black blindfolds being placed around the upper part of her body, specifically the neck, mouth, ears, and eyes. So, pretty much, everything above her neck was covered. I wondered why I was seeing such a strange visual. I think it was representative of her instinct to block all her senses around accepting the love — another expression of her "wall." I kept watching and eventually the wraps on her head disintegrated and her body sort of melted into a blob, like if she had no bones. She wasn't in distress. I think it just represented her letting down her guard. Soon after, she regained her shape and a cartoony animated heart emerged from her chest area, pumping happily. I didn't want to overwhelm her, so thought I would keep sending the healing, but say goodbye so she can have her alone time with this. I remembered that I have a Healing Bowl on the site that is always filled with healing energy for any animal on the site who needs it. I pointed that out to her and she acknowledged it from a sort of blissful, dazed state. I felt we may connect again another time and asked her if that would be okay. She nodded yes from a contented state. I thought that was it, but then heard, "Thank you." I'm interested to see if any of this experience translates into the "real world." Feedback from her people:Yes, she seems to have a complex but fascitating personality. She sometimes shows her sweet and loving side rubbing her face against my cheek or gently biting my fingers melodiously purring when I pet her, and some other times she turns away when I make a move to caress her or she lets my partner hold and kiss her not reacting in any way, just showing her impatience and irritation, with the hope that all this will finish soon. I sometimes see her on her favourite chair sitting in a so-called cat loaf position staring into the void. When I ask her if she's all right she doesn't answer, with her sad eyes wide open, she looks lost in her own thoughts. I totally agree with you when you say she has a wall up that makes her feel safe in any situation whatsoever. I know very little about her life before being captured by an animal rescue organization from a small gypsy camp in contact with humans and with other cats and other animals of different species (dogs, chickens, etc.) When you asked her what things she liked to do she probably showed you what she used to do at the camp. In that environment she certainly did not need toys, being busy doing other things. She loves food. Tuna is one of her favourites. Yes, as she eats, she looks around to make sure no one else is going to take her food or sneak up on her. And yes, she doesn't really want all the attention on her, but prefers to be the observer of others. I loved what she said to you: "When everything else is already in place, then the only thing left is time." She needs time ... Lindsey feels like a playful, easy-going, happy horse. I asked her if there's anything else she wants to show me before we talk, as I'm trying to get a sense of who she is through her energy. She shows me her eating some kind of large nut-shaped snack. It feels like it's a nutritional treat, a little larger than a walnut. She munches happily on these as if this is just one more activity in her life that is fun and part of the adventure. And it feels like she looks at most things she does and experiences in the same way. "Lindsey, you have such a great outlook!" I jump right in to tell her. It's refreshing to see someone who feels that way. "It's just how I feel, my experience," she answered. My mind then flashed to other horses Lindsey knows or has known who don't share that same outlook. It felt like she was giving me a quick tour of her thoughts about the other horses. There's one that feels like Eeyore, who really isn't too happy, a couple others who are generally happy, but still can't understand Lindsey's level of enthusiasm for life. I wondered if it was true that Lindsey lived among other horses, so I flashed that idea in my mind to see how it felt. First, I thought of Lindsey living alone and that didn't feel right. Some of her happiness comes from interacting with others, so she must live with other animals. She nods her head yes at this. "Lindsey, what are some of your favorite things to do?" I asked. It felt like she had lots of favorites. I even see her being cheerful when the vet comes to check her, though there seems to be one incident where that didn't go well and he drew back on her hind legs in surprise. She shows me nose to nose with another horse in a fenced field. She loves socializing. Grazing in the pasture, breathing fresh air, feeling the warmth of the sun — just thinking of all this makes her sigh with contentment. "Do you like riding?" I asked. I sense a little hesitation. She enjoys the companionship of her person — I see a blondish woman in a white tank top — but the weight on her back is not her favorite thing to experience. "Is there anything else bothering you?" I asked. "How's your health?" "Fine," she answered while bobbing her head up and down. "Health is fine. It's just fine. She kept repeating this and bobbing her head in the way someone does when they want to convince someone all is well, when it fact, there may be something they're not revealing. So I tried to do a quick scan of her body to see if anything stood out. I got a feeling that something might be uncomfortable in her chest area. It didn't feel painful, just something not quite right that may be bothering her. "Lindsey, it feels like you have a playful approach with your companions. Can you tell me more about that?" "They need to lighten up!" she said. "Well, not everyone can be in a good mood all the time," I commented. "It's okay, that's why they have me," she replied. I see her with a cheerful light inside, emanating that out to her companions when she's with them. The nickname "Sunshine Lindsey" comes to mind. "Is that what they (the animals) call you, Lindsey?" I wondered. She seemed a little coy about this, but said, "I may have heard it around the barnyard a few times." She gives a little smile as she says this. "Well, I think it suits you!" I told her. "Do you have any messages for your people?" I asked. She started, "Bill…" and then paused, like she thought better of saying her full thought. Then continued, "Bills, bills, bills." "What does that mean?" I wondered to her. "It's just a thing," she answered, still cryptically, like she didn't want to say too much. But the feeling I got was that she was saying, it's just a thing in life. It comes and goes and doesn't have to be the main focus. It will pass. I know that not everything that comes through in conversations makes sense, at least to the communicator. Perhaps Lindsey's person will understand. "Well, Lindsey — Sunshine Lindsey — it was very nice talking with you today," I began my goodbyes. She nodded her head, pleased with the interaction, then grabbed a mouthful of grass from the field where she was standing, and munched happily, radiating her sunshine. Feedback from her people:She is certainly an easy going and a happy horse, nothing much phases her. She likes all food very much, and enjoys eating her hay nuts/cubes as a treat. She is not a young horse and has experienced much in life. I was interested in what you said about her chest area as in her life she has lost 3 older very close companions, and this has given her a great sadness in her heart. She has new companions as she is very social and needs the company of others. One companion who has only been with us for 8 months has had particularly rough handling in her past and she gets very grumpy at times with the other horses. So this could be your Eeyore that you detected. She is an outdoor girl and likes nothing more than to be out in the field grazing / dozing in the sun as you said with her friends. She doesn’t mind anyone including the vet, I wasn’t sure about the incident you mentioned "where she drew back on her hind legs in surprise.” that might need more clarification to identify. She is no longer ridden as she has had poorly feet in the past that have never really got fully better. Wasn’t sure on the meaning of Bill, Bills Bills Bills, but we do have a dog called Bill that she has seen on a couple of occasions. I think you have got a great over all feel and perspective of who she is. I began thinking I would speak with Starlight again a few days ago. I had a series of conversations with him during the last Practice Challenge and promised we would speak again. When I thought about connecting again earlier in the week, he was right there with his playful approach: "Look what the cat dragged in," he said teasingly. I wasn't ready to continue the conversation at the time, but now seemed right and we picked up where his early-in-the-week comment left off. "Ha ha. Yep, you pulled me into another conversation. Have you been waiting six months to tell that joke?" "No, but the longer you waited to come talk, the better the joke got," she replied. "I'm sorry it's taken so long," I apologized. "I wasn't worried. I knew you'd be back," he said. "So what's new?" I wondered. I see him on a big, white, cushy chair. "Oh, you got a new chair?" "It's Nedda's, but I use it more," he said. "You don't seem like the kind of cat to spend lots of time sleeping in one place," I expressed the feeling I got. "It's true. I like to be in on the action, so I usually go where that is," said Starlight. I get visuals of him jumping from here to there, exploring, and doing his own thing. He's not too interested in what his person is doing or getting involved in others' activities. He's very independent, taking full advantage of his cat body and life. "So…how are the doubts?" He said this like a Jewish grandmother from New York. "Still there," I said, knowing he was referencing last time's biggest conversation topic: my concern over not knowing for sure whether I was hearing what I was hearing in conversations. "But I'm done talking about it, so you're off the hook," I assured him. He sent a feeling that was both a light-hearted "whew!" as well as a sense of compassion, that he knows it's real for me and he's more than willing to keep talking about it if I want or need. "Thank you, Starlight," I told him. "For now, I'm good." I wasn't sure what else to talk about, so I asked him if there's anything he wanted to say. What I got back was a visual of him exploring the house. Jumping up on this, leaping down to there. Looking at things he has probably seen a million times as if he'd never seen them before. I tried again and asked him to show me what I needed to know. Again, I got the same running visuals of him exploring, always on the move. I thought my mind was just wandering, so I asked, "I thought you were supposed to be a great teacher. Isn't that something you want to do now?" "Don't put that on me," he said in a non-scolding way. It was more like we were familiar friends. "I do things my way, you worry about you." Even as he talked, he continued exploring, climbing inside of things, expressing his curiosity. And then it clicked in: he was teaching, in his own way, just as he said. What I needed to know was to not stop being curious and exploratory. To keep looking at things from all angles and treat them as if they are new. There's always a new perspective and you never know which one will get you where you want to go. This "concept" seemed to just come in a package, where I knew what he was trying to show me all at once. "Starlight, what if I'm tired of searching?" I asked. "You're tired because you think there is nothing new," he replied. "And there always is. But some of it is harder to access. Diamonds aren't usually found out in the open, you know." He continued, "You are looking for the rarest of rare: meaning in your life. It's not at the buffet table. The chef has to cook it up especially for you. A custom creation. And surprise, you are the chef. You wanted it that way. You wouldn't want it any other. No guru or teacher can lead you there. No guide or magician can make it happen. But you can. And you will." At this point, I realized he had stopped exploring and was simply sitting in front of me, looking at me, soft-spokenly offering his offering. Saying anything more after this seemed like it would dilute his message. He was still looking at me, now in the way a boy looks at a paper boat he launches into the water, eyes full of hope and expectation that the boat will float and travel a miraculous journey somewhere. I found myself on that boat, slowly moving further and further out in the water and away from Starlight "on the shore." Our eyes were still calmly locked on each other, knowing this was all just ceremonial, but based in reality. I looked down at the paper bow of my boat and it read SS Inspiration. As they say in the superhero comic books, "'Nuff said." "Hi Jasper," this is Josh. Do you feel like talking today?" I asked. Slight pause. "Yes, I can talk," he answered evenly. "I know you've been on this site a while and no one has had a conversation with you, so I'm sorry." "I've talked briefly with some people. Not really full conversations. But then again, I'm not just sitting here waiting as my picture suggests. I have a life," he said all this in a mature, self-assured way. "Okay, well as long as you are happy with the arrangement…" I felt he was fine with it. His personality feels mature, aloof at times (maybe just with strangers, like me), but he appreciates good company and can be affectionate, just on his terms. In answer to my thoughts, Jasper inserted, "Am I being studied? I thought we were talking? I feel like I'm under a microscope." "Oh… no, that's not it, Jasper," I began. "I just find it helpful for the learning process to see if I can feel another's personality. To sum it up." "His personality feels mature, aloof at times. But he can be warm, sincere, and fiercely loyal," Jasper began assessing me. "Sometimes a short temper, most of the time a big heart, driven, creative… How am I doing?" "Pretty good, Jasper. I don't mind, in the interest of learning, but if you feel better about it, we can move on," I told him. "Let's," he said simply. "Well, for starters, I think you're beautiful!" I told him. "Very handsome and striking." "Oh, thank you," he seemed surprised at this turn in the conversation, but pleased. "You also seem very mature to me, like you prefer to lean on your intellect and power of observation rather than indulge in the kind of silly and idle play that some cats like," I said. This was all based on a feeling about him. The description of "silly and idle play" felt like it came from him. "I appreciate activities that sharpen my mind," he answered. "Some play can do that." "Like what?" I wondered. "Stalking, capturing, finding, stealthiness," he named a few. "Those do sound like skills, but not much play," I pointed out. "It's all play, isn't it?" he said. "That's the point, huh?" This was that mature outlook I was feeling. "Yes, so they say," I laughed. "It's supposed to be all about fun and enjoyment, but it doesn't always feel that way." "No, it doesn't," he admitted. I expected him to say that it's all in the perspective. He surprised me by agreeing with me. "I could use someone like you around," he inserted. "Are you close?" "I don't think I live nearby," I answered. "Where do you live?" He gave an expansive look around the room and said, "I live in my home, of course." "Well, the way people locate other people is with more identifiers than just 'home,'" I explained. "Name of a country, or city, or street address… they all help." "Then we must settle for this," he said referring to our distance communication. When I think of Jasper in his home, it feels like he doesn't really go outside, that he's an indoor cat. His domain is his kingdom and he appreciates and enjoys it. "What is your home like," I asked. I immediately get a visual of a pool table (or at least a big flat space with a green surface). When it's in use, he is nowhere to be seen. But when it's not, he loves to sit on it. "There's a warm side and a cold side," said Jasper, describing the house. "You mean because of the heating system or the sun?" I asked. He looked a little puzzled. The sun was, of course, the only answer. But after thinking another moment, he realized what I was asking — "Where the warm air comes from? (heating vents) Yes, those are nice." I see a black terrier who is on a leash and very interested in getting to "check out" Jasper. He's very focused, not in a "Let's play" kind of way. It felt more like a visitor, not a resident in the house. "Do you like gazing out the window?" I asked. I see him doing this. He enjoys it, but it doesn't seem like he's obsessed with it. As he watches birds and other scenery, he seems to be constantly plotting and strategizing — not about things he's really going to do, just what he would do in such a situation. It's how he described it earlier, that he is skill-building. "You'd probably be a good chess player," I light-heartedly commented. When I got a blank look back, I realized the reference was lost on a cat. "I just mean you are very good at thinking things through." "Oh. Yes," he acknowledged. "You should have just said that." "Jasper, do you have any pain?" I wondered. "That's quite personal," he answered. "Your person was just wondering, so I thought I would ask," I explained. I started trying to sense if anything was bothering him by focusing on various body parts, but he immediately said, "No," as in "I don't want you to do this." "Okay, no problem, Jasper. I understand." "I have a nap with my name on it now," he said, yawning and curling up. "Okay, enjoy," I replied. "Nice talking with you, Jasper." "Yes, it was nice," he replied, sleepily. Then he was asleep. Feedback from her people: He loved sitting on our pool table in the basement all the time. He'd hide when the cover came off and people were there and would play on it. "I'm glad you made it back," greeted Avalon even before I said anything. My conversation the previous day with him ended abruptly with a meltdown — a combination of exhaustion, persistent doubt, never "really knowing for sure" if I'm connecting or making things up and then feeling like a fraud or liar because of it. Today feels a little better, leading me to believe that yesterday was another example of the energetic chaos I've been experiencing so much over the past few years. But there was Avalon, waiting patiently with a genial, non-judgmental air about him. "What's the topic today, Avalon?" I asked. "Whatever your heart's desire," he replied in his easy-going way. "You don't have anything you've been wanting to communicate?" I queried. He thought briefly and answered, "I'm pretty well covered." "Even for your person?" "She knows me well enough," he said. "I think she may have some questions for you on your page," I pointed out. "Well, I could answer some of them," he agreed. "Okay, here's question one: Have you always known you wanted to help others?" I asked. "Yes. It's in my nature. I'm not unique that way. Many beings have it in their nature to want to help. It's not something one needs to think about much. It's just a basic motivation to do so." "When did you first begin?" I see him as a young colt among other horses. It felt like he used his ability to heal other horses, but not in a way that required focused time and attention — just sort of part of his day. "It's much more common than you may realize," interjected Avalon. "At least among animals. Those of us who want to do this, just help when we're needed." I offered the next question: "Is there any group of people with challenges you would like to work with?" "I quite like working with the autistic. They have remarkable capacities hidden away. I can often reach them in ways traditional communication can't. Helping them realize they have a special way with animals is a real confidence boost. They can feel accomplished and good about themselves." "Do you work on your fellow horses in their stalls?" I read from the list. "Yes, those who want it. There are others who do healing as well." "Can you do healing work remotely?" I asked. He answered, "All of it is remotely. Even in person, there is nothing hands-on. Energy goes where it needs to go and time and space have no bearing on it." Next question. "Have you visited or communicated to other people without being in their presence?" "See last answer." He winked. "Are you always 'on' as a healer, or do you save it for special occasions?" "Healing is not nearly as complicated or mystical as it is portrayed," he explained. "It's really as natural as breathing. And just as effortless. So you could say it's always on, though that hints at it being a tiring process, which it isn't." "Would you like to come back as another animal? A healer?" I recited. "I've been fancying the life of a cat, like the one around the barn. She comes and goes as she pleases, can fit through very small spaces, and seems quite self-assured. I was a Big Cat once, but that's much different. As far as the healer part… again, for many animals, healing is a way of life. Dogs do it all the time in their own ways. As do cats and many other species. Humans seem to be the only ones who have turned it into something exclusive, that only some can do. In reality, you all can do it. It's just part of the nature of things." "What else would you like your woman friend to provide you with, or to do for you?" "An apple every so often. More time to stretch my legs. And… wouldn't it be wonderful if we could talk like this? No pressure. But it could happen." He really did say this with no pressure or guilt. It felt like Avalon is content with his life. He's very self-assured and knows who he is. He also felt open, without judgement for anyone or anything, and very grounded and secure. He has every confidence in those he interacts with, like he can see their potential and strengths and capabilities even if they can't, and so, treats them as if they are that fully healthy, whole person already. I think all those things would make him not just a good healer, but an exceptional one. And maybe that's why his identity is imprinted so deeply as "a healer." "Thank you, Avalon, for your patience and wisdom and for being who you are," I told him. "Not a thing, my boy," he replied. "Not a thing." Feedback from his people:Thanks for the superb connection communication. I was blown away — you and he communicated what I sense and know to be truly congruent with his healing abilities and love and compassion for others. I have had the incredible luck to have a trance channel AC who uses automatic writing in her communications. It has really helped me to understand how special an animal he is. As you have described your conversations, it does sound exactly how he has come across. With large measures of love, some cheekiness, a great deal of wisdom and compassion. He is like a horsey yoda. He is described (and has said also) that his energy is from a much higher dimension than ours, at the least the 7th. Other channels who have connected with him describe his energy is omnipresent, everywhere and anywhere. He helps/transmits energy to anyone in need, they just have to ask. In a personal healing session, he knows exactly what that person needs energetically and emotionally. It is just uncanny. And yet, he is also 'just a horse', a prey animal that can spook, act funny, or be...a horse. Again I'm pleased beyond words with your communication. You were right on. You connected beautifully. Sometimes, feeling an animal's energy or mood or personalty is a great way to begin a conversation. It sort of lays the groundwork. I used to do this when I was having a hard time connecting. Lately, this technique doesn't seem to work for me. I haven't been feeling anything! That's what happened when I tried to connect with Avalon. I first tried to "feel into" things and got nothing. I kept trying and it all just felt flat. I wondered how I would connect if things aren't working. Which is when I heard, "You're in." I was surprised to hear anything and gave a quizzical "what do you mean" thought. Again, the voice came in and said, "Don't worry, you're in. You're connected." It was Avalon, assuring me things were working. "Thank you, Avalon.," I said. "I'm not sure what's going on these days, but I'm feeling fairly disconnected." "You are on the far reaches of the cycle," he explained. He then continued, feeling my pending query about that. "Similar to a moon cycle, where it moves closer and farther away depending on the rotation. The further away, the more chance of interference." "You're saying, this is also true about the energies and my ability to connect?" I asked. "Yes. It's nothing to be concerned about. All will return to working order in time," explained Avalon. "How much time is 'in time'?" I wondered. Avalon chuckled and said, "Just the right amount." But then added, "Give it a few weeks." "I hear you are a healer," I said, changing the subject. "Many of us are." He said this very matter-of-factly, with no ego. "How do you know who needs help?" I asked. "There's always someone in need. When you connect on the right wavelength, you can hear about it all. And I am always connected," he said. "That sounds like a lot of constant noise to sift through. How do you live with that?" I asked. "It the nature of it all. But you learn to turn it down; to listen to what is meant for you," he explained. "So when someone needs help, is it as simple as sending healing energy?" I asked. "It is almost as simple as that. Sometimes it requires more…manipulation." He shows me how a case worker has to coordinate lots of different things to help one particular person. At this point, I became overwhelmed by all the talk, the writing, the connecting, the wondering if I'm getting it right. I needed to take a break. "This can all wait, my boy," said Avalon. "I'll be here when you're ready." "Hi, Pip," I said softly as I sat down beside him. He did some kind of ear flutter when I addressed him. He also feels gentle, smart, and can be persuaded with treats. He stands on his hind legs, front paws on me as I ask if he wants to talk today. He's interested. But he jumps up on my lap to get more on my level. I think he does this a lot to people and furniture to feel like he is higher up. "What do you feel like talking about today?" I asked. So far, he hasn't said anything. I wondered if he is just a quiet dog and he shows me that he can definitely do a lot of barking, but when he does, it's because it's important, like warning people or telling them about important things. I got a visual of him barking when his dinner is being prepared, so I commented, "Is that true, Pip? I wouldn't have thought that would be one of those 'important' events you were talking about." "It's important to me," he replied. Usually I have a more vocal conversation with animals, but this time it was mostly Pip showing me answers to my questions, even if I was just thinking them. I feel a strong female presence in the house. Not necessarily frilly and feminine, though. He shows me running around the house, jumping on and off the furniture like it's an obstacle course. He does this when he's excited. He shows me a view of him eating wet dog food and he enjoys it. I wondered if this was true, so I tried to picture him eating dry food, a more common choice. But that felt too dry and he had a hard time swallowing it. "What do you like to do?" I asked him. He shows me just hanging out with his people. He really enjoys this family time, no matter what they are doing, and it makes him feel happy. He also loves walks and I see him moving along very quickly, like he's on a mission. He seems very alert and aware of things as he walks. He has a list of "sightseeing" landmarks in his head that he references and checks off as he goes. For example, this cat lives at this house and this dog is usually at that window, and there's a great patch of smells in this corner of this lawn, and then when we turn this corner, we're going to see… "You don't want to talk about these things?" I asked, to make sure I wasn't short-changing our interaction. "I don't need to talk. I can show you everything," he answered. I thought maybe he was picking up on my tiredness and was trying to make it easy on me. He assured me that what we're doing is perfect. But I think he was also just trying to make it easier on me. I appreciated his thoughtfulness! I wondered to Pip if there were other animals at home. Initially I got a visual of a dog, sort of a Jack Russell mix, but it was a little unclear. So I tried to visualize a dog energy and kind of got a positive vibe. Then I did the same with a cat energy and that didn't quite feel right. "Pip, anything else you want to tell me or your people?" I asked, feeling that weariness and taking that as a sign to go rest. He thought a moment and then said with love and exhuberance, "They're wonderful!" "I'm so glad you have such a great home, Pip," I told him. "And I'm sorry to cut our 'show and tell' short. Maybe we can speak again another time." Again, he responded without words by sending the feeling of compassion and understanding and acceptance. I sent heartfelt appreciation back. Thank you, Pip! |
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