animal communication
Love Is Everything
Hello friends of my mommy, Mountain Sage. My name is Babe. I’m her one and only favorite pup and she thinks I am a ‘cutie-patootie.’ Well, I don’t know about that, but I’m sure glad she thinks so. I try to be. I really do. But there are so many instructions: “sit, down, stay, no-jump, hold hands, leave it.” Phew! What’s a cute four-legged fur baby like me to do?
Well, there are treats sometimes, and that helps, but The Sage is not always so generous. Sometimes, she seems to think I should do all those silly things for free. It’s okay, I guess. Anyway, if I want to get those cuddles and kisses, as well as go to Bow-Wow Camp (which are two of my very favorite things), then I simply have to do it all her way.
But, when I’m outside hunting, then I do it my way. The Sage is most definitely not a hunter, I can assure you! Nope, not even one little bit. So, I have to bring home the bacon, right? A nice little mouse, for example. I brought it in the doggie door, as a gift, while she was on a phone call with a client.
I assume it was a client because that’s when I have to be ‘all quiet.’ Anyway, she made all these mad gestures. She clearly could not contain her excitement about the juicy mouse. Strange, I tell ya! Making all those weird motions. I mean, really, it was just a plain ole’ mouse. Nothing special in my world, but she acted like I’ve brought a month’s supply of meat into the living room?
Then, there was the frog. It showed up on the porch after a heavy rainstorm. I had never seen anything hop quite like it did. It was intriguing – all shiny, plump and green. I decided to lick it on the back. I was just curious. No need for The Sage to become all hysterical, right?
But I have to be honest: that frog was the most vile and disgusting taste I’ve ever experienced. I had to spit, and spit, and spit to try and get that yucky goo out of my mouth. “It’s poison,” The Sage was complaining, as she picked it up and put it outside the fenced garden. Well, I guess she might have been right. Anyway, I was a satisfied dog and more than glad to see it go.
My Little Guardian Angel
In a recent blog post, I told the story of the rescue dog I found at the vet, and how he became my emotional support animal. He He was my wise little totem, my spirit animal. But Cody’s heart health gradually began to deteriorate. With this in mind, I talked to my husband about getting another Chihuahua, so Cody could teach it to take his place someday.
So, I went online to find our new dog. There were many pages of puppies for sale, as well as rescue dogs. Then I saw Rocky – a small, anxious-looking dog. I contacted the breeder and she said he was the last one from the litter, because he was a little “different.” Well, that is all I needed to hear!
So, we loaded up the car with both Cody and Luke, my German Shepard, and went to meet the new pack member. Mr. Cody Simpson had to come along, since he was a pack leader. He always had the final say about who could join our tribe.
Cody took a sniff at Rocky and instantly started to play with him. Luke immediately followed his lead and joined in the fun and excitement. Animals are much more in tune with each other’s energy signature than humans. If more of us were intuitively in touch with the ‘vibes’ of others, there might be more love, tolerance and compassion in the world.
Now, you may be thinking an 80-pound German Shepard could be dangerous around a tiny Chihuahua, but you don’t know my dog. Luke is convinced he is a Chihuahua. To play with the small dogs, he simply lays down and allows them to play with him.
Rocky was, however, so small for his age, that I was somewhat concerned, so I took him to the vet. The doctor confirmed that he was slow in development and needed special care to grow and become a healthy dog.
A Miracle Horse Named Jake
My passion for animals is far-reaching and horses are a definite favorite. They are amazing creatures that have been roaming the planet since the beginning of time. They started out humbly, but worked their way up the evolutionary ladder.
There is one particular horse that I will never forget. He entered my world about 6 months after my beloved American Quarter Horse, Luke, had passed away at the age of 22. I yearned for a new four-legged friend and found Jake for sale on a nearby farm.
I wanted a horse that would be good on trails, like Luke used to be. As I looked at the herd, one horse stood out instantly, staring at me with eyes that touched my soul. Jake wasn’t the prettiest horse there; he had lots of nicks and bite scars on his body. He was a white horse with a black mane and tail, with black varnish markings on his legs and face.
The owner told me that Jake was unfortunately not the most willing horse on trails, but I still had my sights set on him. He also mentioned that a thorn from a tree had broken off in the horse’s eye, several months back, but it seemed to be fine now.
As the man brought him out, I noticed he was heavy-handed with him and used force when not needed. The horse looked at me intently. I could clearly sense his sadness. He was not happy there.
The owner then saddled him up for me to ride, and he cut a branch from a nearby tree to use as a switch. “You’ll need this on the trails,” he said. I politely took the makeshift riding crop (with no intention of using it) and headed off to the wooded trails nearby.
Jake was quiet and we were feeling each other out. It was soon evident that he was a caring horse that aimed to please. I enjoyed the ride, and tossed that stick on the first turn. That was the day I started the love affair with my new Colorado Ranger horse. Only 5,000 of Colorado Ranger breed were registered at the time. The man could not recall how old Jake was, but when I got his papers I found he was 22 years old.
Paw Prints All Over My Heart
The agony of losing a dog is immeasurable. I lost my beloved Oliver, a King Charles Cavalier, several months ago and I’m still crying every day. But I have found some consolation in his afterlife signs and visits from the other side.
He was 11 years old and in perfect health, or so I thought. He’d had a full checkup three months prior and he had the test results of a very young dog! I also used to take him on long walks every day, his head held high, his tail wagging happily, a prancing skip in his step.
He was such a loving, happy dog. He stopped for every human, always begging for their attention and a pat on the head. Everyone knew him and loved him in the neighborhood.
He followed me around everywhere, lay under the table as I worked, always got up to join me for Yoga, and I left a spot for him behind my pillow every night at bedtime. I took him everywhere with me.
My 90-year-old mom lives across the street and that was his second home. He loved it there. One day, I was out running errands and he got loose. He then came knocking on my mom’s door looking for me there. She was always happy to see him and invited him in.
One day he simply stopped eating. He refused his favorite dog treats, would not even sniff peanut butter. Then he stopped drinking water. We immediately took him to the vet for tests. Not long after, the kind doctor phoned. My heart sank. “His organs are already shutting down, there’s nothing we can do for him,” he said.
We rushed back to the vet, praying he would hang on long enough so we could say our goodbyes. He did hang on for us. My husband, daughter and I were all together when we first picked him up as a puppy and now we were together to see him off. They didn’t even need to sedate him; he was already leaving his body and was calm as can be.
Just before they gave him the final injection, he suddenly turned his head and focused. I thought his loving gaze was on all of us, but my daughter insists he was only looking at me. There was no question he loved us all, but I did have an incredibly special connection with Oliver.
Making Peace With Nature’s Plan
Nature’s plan is perfect, whether we understand it, or not. I have been distraught by this much of my life. I have also over-thought it at times, especially when I see animals suffering in nature, or the damage sometimes done to fauna and flora by raging wildfires, floods, and other natural forces.
I often ask myself what the lesson is in all of this for me? Why am I sometimes so profoundly upset by the way nature take its natural course? Apart from humanity’s awful neglect, exploitation and abuse of animals and natural resources, I have often also questioned nature itself, and how animals can be so cruel in their treatment of one another – and not always just for the sake of survival.
I have looked into the subject for some kind of resolution or understanding as to why nature is designed this way. The teachings of Emmanuel, as channeled by Pat Rhodegast, insist that nature’s plan is perfect and that each creature chose the role of predator or victim for the experience it would bring them in their own evolution process.
The Amazing Afterlife of Animals by Karen Anderson suggests that an animal will never depart this world before its their time to go, and that when it is their time to leave, they often prefer to be alone. They wander off and find a secluded place to end their lifespan naturally. They may even be chased away by other members of the herd, or other family pets. This is nature’s way.
This was the case in my home very recently. Ten days prior to my youngest cat, Prince, becoming really ill, my smallest female cat, who never liked Prince, was marking her territory and trying to keep him away from her food. She was hissing at him and tried to chase him out of the house.
Talk To Your Pets Using Telepathy
So many beloved pets cross over the ‘rainbow bridge’ leaving their owners with unbearable grief. I’ve found myself consoling several clients over the years, as well as focusing on connecting them with their furry ‘children’ on the other side.Doing these pet psychic readings often remind me of my own pain when my two Rottweilers, sisters Sophie and Jasmin, passed within months of each other.
Unless one has loved and lost a pet yourself, it is hard to understand the awful sense of loss one experiences. It also takes a considerable amount of time to come to terms with the fact that they are no longer in the physical. The grief is at times unbearable, despite the inner knowing that they have gone ‘home’ to spirit, on the other side of the veil.
In hindsight, several days before their death, both Sophie and Jasmin were constantly staring at me, as if they were looking right through me. I recall saying to each of them, “You’re not leaving me yet, surely?” They were eight and a half and nine years old respectively, and both in relatively good health.
But, ‘the look’ was the same my boxer dog, Major, had given me 40 years ago. Only hours after he gave me that intense look, Major’s already deceased mother, Trudy, appeared outside the kitchen window and communicated to me, “I’ve come to take him.” The memory of that communication from Trudy – a particularly sensitive dog – is as vivid as if it happened yesterday.
Animals communicate by sending images, thoughts and feelings using telepathy. We can all master telepathic communication and often do it without even realizing. A course in animal communication made me realize that I’d been using this psychic technique all along.
I started helping people to communicate with their lost pets many years ago. It began when a lady was referred to me by a friend, who had been to me for a psychic reading. She asked if I could help locate her Siamese cat. I had never done this kind of work before, but being an animal lover I was willing to try. I managed to find the cat for her, but she only phoned to confirm this a year later!
The Little Angel Who Rescued Me
In 2017, I visited the vet with Max, my German Shepherd, for dental work. Max was a rescue from Germany surrendered by his previous owner because he was considered a “too active” puppy.
While we were waiting at the clinic, he suddenly started pulling his leash into the operating room and began barking at me to move faster. I was caught totally off guard. He had never behaved like this before.
At the time he had been with me for over 10 years and had the typical issues coming from being an elderly dog. But he was the most people and dog-friendly dog you could imagine. He was never unruly or aggressive and he seldom barked.
I followed him and soon found the reason for his excitement. A small Chihuahua was tied to the examining table and looking at us. I then realized that Max had sensed the little dog was scared. He started to comfort him by lying beside him and gently playing with him.
When the vet entered the room, she was astonished to see the two dogs comforting each other with face licking and wagging tails. She then revealed that Cody the Chihuahua had been surrendered to the shelter she did volunteer work for. Mr. Cody had not found a forever home yet, because had been labelled “aggressive towards other dogs.”
Also, he was a hospice adoption because he was in an awfully bad shape. He suffered from serious heart failure and had never had dental work done before. The previous owner had him for 9 years and did nothing to ease his pain and suffering. No wonder he was acting aggressive – who wouldn’t be with 13 rotting teeth in their muzzle!
At the time, I had recently immigrated to Canada and I had to start over from scratch. I arrived here with only suitcases and my dog. I was definitely not planning on adopting another dog. But that was not what destiny had in mind for me.