After my first connection with Aris, I wanted to start fresh on a different day to see if I could get anything clearer. I asked Aris to help me understand his personality. He immediately showed me him doing a lot of sniffing on the ground. I thought to myself, "Well, that's what dogs do — they sniff. They're good at that. They have good noses." But Aris said, "I'm really good at it. It's what I do.""How does it help you?" I asked. He shows me him as sort of a starting place, then white lines connecting him to lots of other things, close and far away. These are his scent trails. He follows them. But more, he interprets them. The scents tell him things like who, what, where, when, and how. It's why he's always sniffing the ground and around him, to evaluate what's going on. "Your mom has a question about why you choose to be in another room away from where the family is gathered. Is this related?" "Well, it's a lot of energy and activity to process. Unpredictable. But I do have an instinct to be aware of what's going on elsewhere — and one way is with smell. It's much easier to differentiate smells when I'm not in the thick of it (in a group). "So it's a little about protection and survival instincts?" I tried to confirm. "Yes, I'd say so," he replied. "What else would you like to tell or show me?" He shows me happily flopping down on someone's lap. Except he is only partially on because of his size. I feel a little sadness around this. He wants to be a lap dog in this instance, so that he can curl up on someone's lap. When he sees this happening with the cats, he feels left out. This feels like yet another reason he chooses to hang out in a different room than the family. I'm not sure why everything keeps coming back to low self-esteem and the many little issues he mentions. "Aris, you have a friend, Dina, who seems to prefer her ball rather than running with you. How do you feel about that?" I asked. Before I got a strong impression from Aris, I seemed to actually hear from Dina, who said, "I'm not having any part of that." She's referring to his long legs and fears getting trampled if they run together. "We have a connection, but we're also different dogs with different interests. It's not personal." Aris is a little confused by Dina's choice not to run. "What's not to like? The wind in your face, grass underfoot. You feel free, exuberant!" I get the feeling that this is truly one of the ways Aris can get away from some of his worries and fears and feelings of self-doubt. And though he doesn't compare himself to others in this way, he does notice that he is a very fast runner — faster than many of the other dogs he sees — and that gives his confidence a boost. It feels like he is overly focused on what he perceives are his short-comings rather than on his great attributes. He is constantly comparing himself to others, wondering why he can't do what the cats do or the small dogs do, etc. I then asked about the bathroom — why he doesn't like to go in. Like many of the other answers, I seemed to get many small reasons kind of flood in, almost like like worries floating around in his head. "The space is too small. I don't want to be trapped. The sounds in here are too sudden (toilet, faucet) and come out of nowhere. There's a strange sterile smell that's too clean. I don't like my toes tapping on the floor. There's a bath in there, right? Say no more." In both my conversations, I tried to push away all the worries and concerns, thinking that my mind was latching onto them and making them too prominent in the conversation. But they kept coming up in every question or thing Aris would show me. He's so sweet and gentle and good-natured, yet seems to be dealing with a lot of angst. Getting outdoors helps much of that go away. Even as I ask him if he has anything more he wants to say, he says, "I'm trying to be as good as I can." I told him how wonderful I think he is and that his family surely feels that way. They don't focus on any short-comings, just all the things they love about him. When I present that idea to him, he feels good. Deep down, he knows that is true and there are moments he actually feels it (or lets himself feel it). "Aris, how about we talk again sometime?" I asked. "Maybe we can meet at the park with my mom," he answered. "I live pretty far away, but we can do that together in our minds." "Okay, bring your running shoes," he reminded me. "I will, Aris. See you soon."
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AuthorMy name is Josh and I'm a learning animal communicator, hoping that sharing my journey will help others. Categories
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February 2020
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