Trust yourself

One of unexpected "services" that I find myself providing to my clients is trying to help them develop more trust in themselves . . . their own intuition . . . their own knowledge and skills of observation, especially as it pertains to their animals.

When I am working with the guardians of my animal clients, I ask the guardians a lot of questions about what they sense, what they have observed and what they think is going on with their animal. Sure, I am picking up insights and information from the animals myself, but I believe that the best way I can help an animal is to partner with their guardian. My goal is to put together what they are sensing and seeing, with what I am picking up, and what the animal is telling me, to make it a more complete picture. I feel it would be a huge disservice to the animal to ignore their input or to ignore the input of their guardian.

In a perfect world, all veterinarians would operate this way too and never disregard what a guardian knows about their animal or what an animal is showing them either. Unfortunately, my perfect world doesn't exist yet and many of my clients are confronted with the sad truth that there are a lot of veterinarians out there who are only interested in what they know or what they believe.

Over the last couple of years, I have had many discussions with my clients about this topic. Some of them have confessed to me that they view veterinarians (any anyone with a medical degree) as an authority figure and believe they must know more than they do. It's as if being in the presence of someone who has a degree somehow trumps whatever knowledge and experience they have with their own animal.

Even if they go into the vet, sure of what tests they want or don't want, or what avenue they want to pursue, they often leave feeling frustrated that their vets didn't listen to them and they ended up agreeing to things they didn't want to do. When I try to gently coach them to speak up to their vets, I often hear, "But it just didn't feel right to push back, after all, they are the one with the medical degree."

I try to point out that while the vet may have lots of knowledge, what they don't have is experience with their animal. They aren't living with the animal, they aren't seeing the animal day in and day out. The vet doesn't have the heart connection with the animal that they do either and that matters too.

Let me say for the record, I am not demeaning ALL veterinarians. I know there are great ones out there. My frustration is with the vets that don't listen to the guardians and who don't take into account what the person who is living with that animal knows.

Twice in the last two weeks, I have received calls from clients who were in tears after a vet visit. As always, I do my best to try to help them separate out fact from assumption, separate what they "know" from what they were told and slowly, we are able to unravel all the emotions and frustrations and determine a course of action that feels right to the guardian. Yet, I continue to feel frustrated that so many of my clients are having negative experiences with veterinarians.

Based on the experiences of my clients, I would like to share some tips with you, in the hopes of helping you have better experiences with a veterinarian.

- If you don't feel comfortable with the veterinarian, don't go back. Some of the things my clients have told me are: The vet wouldn't listen to me. The vet didn't talk to my dog and acted like he wasn't even there in the room. The vet told me my dog didn't understand what we were talking about. I felt like I was being treated like I was stupid.

No one should ever feel that way when they take their animal to a veterinarian. Remember, there are plenty of vets out there and there's no sense going to someone you don't feel comfortable with.

- Watch your animal for signs of how they feel about the veterinarian because they will tell you through their behavior what they think about the vet you are seeing. I hear things like: My dog wouldn't get out of the car when we arrived. My dog shivered and panted the entire time we were there. My cat was a wreck and never calmed down through the whole appointment. Many people think that it's normal for an animal to be totally distressed at a vet appointment, but I have seen enough evidence to the contrary to convince me that animals know when it's the "right" vet and when it's not.

My clients have told me stories of going to a new vet and being shocked at how calm their animal was, as opposed to previous vet visits. I have a few clients whose dogs had to be muzzled in order to make it through a vet visit but when they found the "right" vet, the dog no longer needed to be muzzled. Your animal will give you signs, if you are willing to "listen" to them.

- Listen to your own gut. If the diagnosis doesn't feel right to you, trust that. Get another opinion. Several years ago, I had a client whose dog received a cancer diagnosis (lymphoma, I think). They told her he would probably only live a couple more months. The guardian kept telling me she didn't think her dog had cancer and I told her to trust that feeling. When she went back several months later to have more lab work done, there were no "proof" of cancer anymore. She was so glad she trusted her instincts and her dog is still here and doing fine. I have had too many clients hear, "Your animal has cancer, the humane thing to do is to put them down today." And when they chose not to, they were treated like they were "bad guardians."

One of my clients called me today with this very story. She was told by a vet that her dog had cancer and that she should be put down today. When my client said, "No, I'm bringing her back home with me" she was accused of keeping her dog alive "for her own selfish reasons." I know this woman and I know there is nothing selfish about her at all. She has a heart of gold and she also has a really good head on her shoulders. She knows the time will come for her dog to make her transition but she told me she knew it wasn't today. I trust her. I hope she will continue to trust herself as well.

My hope is that all guardians will learn to trust themselves and be willing to stand up to a vet if they don't agree with their assessment, or not be afraid to find another vet who is more willing to work with them, to treat them and their animal with respect. Our animals count on us to advocate for them, to listen to them and they count on us to listen to our own intuition. You know when something doesn't feel right and there's nothing wrong with trusting that feeling. Regardless of how much medical training you've personally had, as a guardian, you have valuable information and insights and intuitions about your pet that should never be discounted . . . not by yourself and not by anyone in the medical profession. Please don't be afraid to trust yourself and your own "knowing."

Belated Anniversary Celebration

January 12 will always be a special day. In 1996, it was the day that I drove up to the SPCA in San Francisco, in the hopes of winning the lottery for the German Shepherd named Lucky – and obviously, I was lucky enough to have the winning number that day.

That night (the day I “got Lucky”) my family and friends came over to celebrate her arrival into my life. We popped open some champagne and toasted the special occasion, although, I don’t think anyone knew, except maybe Lucky, what a special occasion it truly was and how my life was going to change from that day forward.

Lucky loved meeting everyone that first night and even decided to join in the celebration by sticking her tongue into my dad’s champagne glass that was resting on the edge of the coffee table. I remember being shocked that my dad didn’t even flinch, as he picked up his glass and continued to drink from it, even though he had just seen Lucky’s tongue in it. Some people might have poured it out and washed the glass, but my dad didn’t seem to be bothered. It’s something that still brings a smile to my face.

Here’s a picture of my parents with Lucky, and her first stuffed animal, Dino, on her first night at my house. I can’t remember if this picture was taken before or after she sampled her first taste of champagne but I do remember what a happy night it was.

For thirteen years, we celebrated January 12^th (our anniversary). In the early years, we always marked the occasion by invited some friends over and opening a bottle of champagne. As time went on, our anniversary celebrations became a little more personal, with Lucky and I going to our favorite beach and sometimes, weather permitting, stopping off at our favorite restaurant to sit on the outside patio for a bite to eat.

So, as January 12^th approached this year, I was looking forward to honoring me and Lucky’s special day. I didn’t want to let this year go by without marking the occasion, even though Lucky wasn’t physically here anymore. My plan was to go to our beach and since I had been there on Christmas Day and didn’t fall apart, I was confident that I would be able to make another trip to our beach without any problems.

When I woke up on January 12^th though, I realized my plan may be thwarted. The grief had come back and it was so thick, I felt like I was under water. After wandering around the house aimlessly for what seemed like hours, I pulled out the video of news coverage that I have from Lucky’s adoption, thinking that maybe that would help. I watched the footage of them pulling the winning ticket out of the fishbowl and calling my number . . . and saw myself walking into the “get acquainted” room at the shelter to meet Lucky for the first time. Tears streamed down my face as I watched her roll over on her back as I approached her and saw how she wrapped her paws so tightly around my arm when I put my hand on her chest.

The emotions I was feeling were overwhelming. While I have watched the news coverage of her adoption countless times over the years, it had never hit me quite this hard. I then pulled out the video of our last four months together and watched that. It was almost surreal to see the two parts of our lives juxtaposed against one another – our first day together, when we were so young and so new to each other . . . and our final months, when we had grown so much and come into our own as true partners. We had traveled so far together and for as much as I wanted to celebrate our journey, all I could feel was the enormous hole in my heart. I missed her so much, my whole body ached.

The rest of the day was a blur. I think I cried harder that day than I did the day Lucky passed away. I couldn’t understand why the grief was so debilitating and why, when I was so sure I was going to have a wonderful day at the beach that day, I was unable to even leave the house, let alone brush my teeth. I cried so hard that in moments, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to catch my breath between sobs. It was the longest and most difficult day I have had since she passed away.

A few weeks later, one of my best friends suggested that we go to the beach and watch the sunset, since he knew how bummed out I was about not being able to celebrate on the 12th. While it sounded like a nice idea, I quickly came up with a list of reasons it might not be a good idea, mostly that I might fall apart again and I wasn’t ready to go to that dark place again so soon. I suggested that maybe we could go to a different beach, not me and Lucky’s special beach, as maybe that would be a safer alternative.

Being the true gem that he is, he let me know that if we went to the special beach, and I fell apart, that would be ok. He assured me that we’d just deal with it, if that’s what happened. With a little trepidation on my part, we got in the car and drove over the hill. He brought along a bottle of champagne, to make it more of a celebration.

When we got out of the car, we both realized how cold it was, and as we were zipping our jackets up and bracing ourselves against the cold, he asked if I had a blanket we could bring with us . . . at the same time, our eyes both went to the backseat of my car, where Lucky’s blanket still covers the seat. He said, “It’s ok, we don’t need a blanket” and I laughed as I said, “It’s really ok, we can bring Lucky’s blanket down there with us.” So, armed with the blanket, the champagne, plastic champagne glasses and a camera, we made our way to the top of the stairs.

He had never been there with me before, so I was able to distract myself by playing “tour guide” . . . pointing out all the steps we were about to walk down, sharing stories about trips I had taken to this beach over the years and things that had occurred.

We found a spot on the sand and took a seat. He popped opened the champagne and poured us each a glass. I told myself to just breath . . . and after a couple of deep breaths, I could feel Lucky’s presence. It made my eyes well up with tears but happy tears, not sad tears. I said, “She’s here.” He smiled at me and nodded. I could hear her say, “It’s about time you got him here.” I couldn’t believe I was actually hearing her, since I never seem to be able to hear her when I try. Clearly, she was pleased that we had made this trip to the beach.

As I looked out at the water, I decided it was one of the most beautiful sunsets I had ever seen. It felt so good to be there again and I was thrilled that I was getting the chance to honor our anniversary, even if it was several weeks late. We stayed until the sun had completely set and then figured we’d better make our way back up the stairs before it was too dark to see where we were going. I stopped a couple of times on the way back up to turn around, look at the beach and breath it all in again.

When we got into the car to drive back home, I thanked him for making the trip with me. I was so glad that I went, so glad that he helped me have a “make up session” for me and Lucky’s anniversary. As we were pulling away, I turned to him and said, “I’m so relieved I didn’t fall apart” and he said, “You know, it would have been OK if you did.”

And I think I did know that . . . because I am continuing to realize that grief just is what it is. There are no rules and regulations for how you go through it. You just “ride the waves” when they come up and as long as you remember to keep breathing . . . you’ll do just fine until the next wave rolls in. I don’t know how many more big waves of grief are in my future, but I have no doubt there will be more.

For those of you who are grieving the loss of a pet, I hope you will remember to just ride the waves when they come. There isn’t a right or a wrong way to go through it . . . the important thing is that we just go through it, hopefully with as much compassion for ourselves as we can.

Honoring Shadow

This week, I received some very sad news . . . a very special person I know lost her beloved dog, Shadow and it has been weighing heavy on my mind and my heart. I decided the best thing to do would be to dedicate this weeks blog to Shadow and her guardian Erika . . . and the beautiful, yet short life they had together, in the hopes that focusing on Shadow's life would ease some of the pain of her death.

I first met Erika and Shadow last March. I knew the second I met them, there was something very special about them both. They had been together about a year but with the bond they had, you would think they had been together for many, many years. I was in awe of Erika's dedication to Shadow's health and happiness. Their intense love and devotion to one another was so evident and I felt honored to have the opportunity to work with them both.

Shadow was a black German Shepherd who was five years old at the time. The first four years of her life, she had been used as a backyard breeder and when Erika adopted her from a rescue group, she was not in good shape. Her belly was all stretched out from having so many litters of puppies, her nails were severely overgrown, she was fearful of almost everything . . . constantly hiding, trembling and drooling in reaction to all the things that scared her. She didn't know how to play or how to experience joy.

Since many of the overwhelming fears Shadow was experiencing were similar to what Lucky experienced when I first adopted her, I suppose I felt an even stronger connection to them and what they were going through. Some of the stories Erika told me made me cry, like when she told me how Shadow reacted when she put out stuffed toys for her to play with. She would gently scoop them up in her mouth and place them on her bed . . . then curl up around them while she whimpered. Or how Shadow reacted when she saw other dogs jumping up in the air to grab a stuffed toy . . . that caused her to get upset and whimper as well.

No one will ever be able to convince me that animals don't have emotions or grieve over the loss of their children. When you see something like that, I don't know how you could come to any other conclusion. Erika and I knew that if Shadow was going to have the life she was meant to have, we needed to first help her release the deep sadness she held in her body over all the puppies that were taken away from her, so that was one of the things we focused on during our Reiki session.

Erika and I kept in touch over the next ten months and each time I received an email from her, updating me on how Shadow was doing, I could not stop myself from smiling. The progress they made was unbelievable. Erika understood the importance of honoring Shadow's feelings, of taking baby steps, etc. She talked to Shadow all the time . . . explaining things to her, and managing her expectations. They developed their own special way to communicate, such as, Shadow knew all she had to do was give her mom a "look" if she wanted to leave the environment they were in and she always knew her mom would honor the "look." Shadow developed more and more confidence in their adventures out in the big noisy world as a result of their ability to communicate with one another.

Each update I received warmed my heart more than the previous one . . . with Erika sharing stories of how Shadow was learning to play and finding joy in goofing around with her mom. They started playing Hide and Seek, which Shadow took great delight in and on occasion, Erika was even able to distract Shadow from things that frightened her by starting up a game of Hide and Seek. This dog, who didn't know how to have fun when she was first adopted, was now learning that life was meant to be enjoyed and she was cherishing every moment of silliness that she and her "mom" were having.

Shadow also went to work with her mom every day and as time went on, she became less and less fearful of the noises and activities that occurred in her office. They made more progress in six months than Lucky and I had made in several years and I was just in awe of what they were able to accomplish. The love and the trust between them was obviously very intense.

In the fall, Erika fostered a litter of puppies and Shadow was in heaven. Erika called her the governess and she took her job of helping to care for the puppies very seriously. Thanks to Erika getting involved in fostering, Shadow got the chance to fulfill her motherly duties, an opportunity she had missed in her early years.

Eventually, Erika adopted one of the puppies and Shadow took him under her wing. She became the best "big sister" any dog could have, as evidenced by this precious picture of the two of them napping together.

To think this was the same dog who whimpered as she put her toys in her bed six months earlier . . . clearly, Erika had helped this sweet dog heal in ways that were astounding. From the updates I received from Erika, it seemed that the dog I met last March didn't exist anymore. She had made tremendous strides in healing from her early trauma and was coming into her own. They had developed a true partnership.

Shadow was living the beautiful life she was meant to live, one filled with joy and happiness, peace, trust and love. And they had so many years ahead of them . . . years to enjoy the relationship they had developed . . . years to have new, wonderful experiences and adventures together . . . and I suppose that is one of the reasons I took Shadow's passing so hard this week. Shadow's life got cut short and I think I have been grieving, as Erika probably has as well, for the time they didn't get to have together.

This week, Shadow had a tumor on her spleen that ruptured. She went into shock and passed away during emergency surgery. For as much as I am still struggling with Lucky's death, I keep thinking about the fact that at least I knew it was coming . . . I was able to prepare for it, say all the things I wanted to say. We were blessed with almost fourteen years together . . . which makes me even more sad for Erika . . . I wish she and Shadow had more time together. She worked so hard to help Shadow let go of the past and be who she was meant to be . . . I wanted them to have more time to enjoy the "fruits of their labor."

And still, I believe that everything happens for a reason, so there must have been a reason why their time together was as short as it was. It was definitely not short on love, or devotion. They packed a tremendous amount of healing and adventure into their short time together. But I still am left wishing I understood why Shadow had to leave now.

Their beautiful relationship reminded me that it is possible to recover from the things we have been through, that there is no limit to how deeply we can love and how healing it can be. Because of Erika, Shadow was able to be who she was meant to be . . . she was able to experience love, joy, trust and true companionship . . . that was the precious gift she received from Erika, a gift I know she will treasure forever.

Rest in peace, sweet Shadow . . . you will be missed by everyone whose lives you touched . . . I know you will watch over your mom and make sure she find a way to remember all that you learned together - mostly that life is meant to be enjoyed.

Snakes have feelings too

Last week, I wrote about a cat named Luke and the grief he was experiencing a few weeks ago, when one of the snakes that he shares a home with passed away. He spent about 24 hours laying on top of the snake cage, where the remaining snake still lived, dealing with his grief. After having time to process his feelings, he seemed to be feeling better and was back to his old self again.

This week, when I was at the house, their guardian told me that Luke was back to laying on the snake cage again but she wasn't sure why. She wanted me to talk to him and see if I could find out.

When I checked in with Luke, I inquired as to whether he was still feeling sad about the snake that had passed away. He let me know that he was feeling better, but that the remaining snake wasn't. He was very lonely and missing her a lot. Luke let me know that the snake really wanted another companion. He had been laying on the cage trying to keep the snake company, as he didn't want him to feel lonely, but it was only helping so much. While the snake appreciated Luke's effort to keep him company, it wasn't the same as having another snake to hang out with.

Their guardian and I were both very touched and she said she'd make sure the snake had a new companion as soon as possible. I have to admit, I was surprised at first. I guess since I don't work with snakes, I am not accustomed to tuning into their emotions. I have not thought of them as the emotional beings that dogs, cats, horses, rabbits, etc. are, but after thinking about it, I realized it made perfect sense. Why would animals have feelings but not reptiles. After all, they are animals as well.

It also got me thinking about the fact that some animals really need another animal companion and some do not. Some animals prefer to be the only animal in a household and other animals aren't happy unless they have the companionship of another animal. Even with those animals who want companionship, it doesn't necessarily have to be their own kind. Some dogs are perfectly content to have a cat as a companion, while other dogs only want to have another dog to play with.

No two animals are the same, because they each have their own needs and their own unique personalities. I believe it is very important to treat them as the individuals they are and not make generalizations about their needs. Sure, they all need food, water, shelter and love, so some of their needs are the same, but not all of their needs. The better we understand that, the better we'll be able to meet the varied needs of our animals.

For me, thanks to Luke, I'm looking at snakes in a whole new way, and will make sure that from now on, I am always honoring the fact that they have feelings too.

Animals Grieve too

A couple of weeks ago, I was reminded of the emotional capacity that animals possess and how they grieve as we do, when a loved one is lost. This story centers around a cat named Luke, although, originally, that was not why I went to his guardians' house.

First, a little background on Luke. There is something very special about him. He seems to possess wisdom and knowledge that you wouldn't normally expect from an animal. I wrote about him last year when I told the story of a woman who set up an appointment with me because she was worried about her cat. He had been acting strangely and she feared something was wrong with him but when I arrived at the house, he seemed perfectly fine . . . which surprised both of us.

It was at this meeting that the guardian discovered that I do energy healing with humans too and she began setting up Reiki appointments for herself. Afterwards, Luke told me that had been his plan all along . . . he knew his guardian needed some healing and he figured the best way to get her the help she needed was to pretend he was sick, so that she would call me. :-)

Since that day, my relationship with Luke has been special. There is just something about him that is unique and magical. One example is, when I am working with his guardian, he seems to appear at poignant moments, as if to confirm we are on the right track with what we are uncovering in her healing process. Sometimes when we are working on release a block in her body, he instinctively jumps up on the Reiki table and lays on the part of her body where the block is, as if to aid us in the energy healing. Each time I am leaving his guardian's house, he insists on walking me to my car. He waits patiently on the sidewalk until I am safely in my car and once I start the engine, he turns around and walks back into his house. I could write a book about Luke and all the little mystical, magical things I have seen him do.

So, back to my visit to their house a couple weeks ago . . . one of the reasons his guardian wanted me to come over that night was because one of her son's snakes had died. She and her son were both very sad about it and they wanted some help processing the grief they were experiencing, in part because they cope with grief differently and needed assistance in how to meet their own needs as well as each others. I spent some time with them, as we focused on the issues that had come up around the girl snakes death. When they were both feeling better about that, Luke's "mom" and I went into the other room, where she received a Reiki treatment. We talked for a while afterwards and as I was getting ready to leave, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't seen Luke while I was there. I have never been to their house without spending some time with Luke and I found it a little odd that he never once made an appearance.

As I was mentioning his absence to his guardian, my mind and heart were suddenly filled with feelings of grief and I realized that Luke was grieving the loss of the snake as well. I explained what I was picking up . . . how much Luke was going to miss her and how sad he was feeling that she had passed away. His guardian asked if there was anything she could do to help him and I told her that I really felt he needed to be alone to work through his feelings. I told her that when he was ready to be around others again, she would see him but until that time, he just needed the space to deal with his grief. She smiled at me and said, "Ah, yet another way he and I are alike."

When I left a short while later, I was very aware of the fact that it was the first time I had ever left the house where Luke didn't walk me to my car. His guardian noticed it too, so she walked me out and "stood in" for Luke, waiting until I started the engine before going back into the house.

I found out from her the next day that not long after I had left the night before, she walked into the room where the snake habitat was, and she found Luke there, sleeping on top of the cage. She let him be, as I had suggested and he stayed there the rest of the night. In the morning, he was obviously ready to be around everyone again, as he came into the kitchen when she was making breakfast for everyone. She said she could sense his appreciation for being given the space he needed to work through his feelings.

Last week, when I was back at their house, Luke was his old-self again . . . jumping onto the Reiki table at just the right moment, to aid in his guardian's healing . . . and when it was time for me to go, he walked me to the car like he always does. His grief had lifted and I drove home that night feeling blessed to meet the beautiful, magical animals that I encounter in my work.

Communicating with those on the other side

If you read my blog regularly, you know that in November, I finally learned how to feel Lucky's presence when she visits me from the other side. It was a wonderful discovery and it has given me great comfort to know when she is here.

When I feel her presence, it is usually at night when I get into bed. I feel a ball of energy in front of me, between my heart and my head and the energy is so dense that it feels as if my breath is bouncing off the energy and coming back at me. It is similar to how you might feel if you held a pillow an inch from your face and exhaled deeply . . . you would feel your breath 'bounce back' . . . and that's the sensation that always tells me Lucky is here. She seems to come when I have had a tough day, or when I have been missing her a lot and it warms my heart to know that she's still watching over me, knowing when I need to feel her presence.

The one thing that has disappointed me is that, even though I know she is here, I can't communicate with her. I talk to her but I can't hear her. I sense very strongly that she is trying to communicate with me, yet I can't seem to pick up any information from her. I have assumed I must not have the ability to communicate with those who have crossed over.

This Wednesday, I got an email from a friend of mine, letting me know her precious dog, Natalie, had passed away on December 30th. We knew the end was coming, although we didn't know exactly how soon, so while I wasn't surprised that Natalie had made her transition, it still made me sad . . . mostly sad for her mom and dad who loved her so deeply. I knew how intense their grief was and I wished, as I always do, that I could lessen the pain that people feel when they lose an animal. In her note, my friend wrote that she hoped Natalie was with Lucky, playing and running free.

That night when I got into bed, I immediately felt Lucky's energy. I thanked her for coming to visit me and was telling her the usual stuff . . . that I missed her with all my heart and wished she could still be here with me. I noticed that the energy was particularly dense and was wondering why, when all of the sudden it occurred to me that Lucky was not alone. I knew right away that Natalie was with her. I began speaking to Natalie, telling her how sorry I was that I hadn't been able to see her before she made her transition and letting her know I had just been in touch with her mom that day. I told her how much her parents missed her and loved her.

Normally, once I have spoken to Lucky, I begin to feel the energy dissipate, so I was surprised when, after speaking to both of them, the density of the energy still hadn't changed. I asked Natalie if there was something she wanted to say, and while I was wishing I had the ability to "hear" what animals say from the other side, I was suddenly flooded with words.

She had some messages for her mom and dad and they came through as clearly as they would have if she was standing there talking to me. She wanted me to tell them that they had made the right decision to help her cross over and that they had done it at the right time. She also wanted me to remind them that they have always been a great team and she didn't want them to forget that. She wanted me to remind them to help each other through the grief they were experiencing.

I promised her I would pass her message along to them, thinking that I would do it first thing in the morning. Once again, I was aware that the energy was still just as dense and I wondered why . . . then I laughed as I heard myself say, "Oh, you want me to email them right now?" and with a slightly apologetic tone, I felt her tell me she was afraid I would forget some of her message if I waited until morning. I told her that I would get up right then and get on the computer, and it was then that I finally felt the energy start to dissipate.

As promised, I got out of bed immediately, threw on my robe and went upstairs to send her parents an email. As I was sitting at the computer, I got a little more information from she and Lucky. Natalie had been wanting to get a message to her parents but she and Lucky knew I wouldn't have known Natalie was there with Lucky if I didn't know she had passed on. They had to wait until I knew before their visit would make sense to me. So, it seemed perfectly orchestrated that they would visit me on the same day that Natalie's mom had emailed me to tell me about Natalie.

In the subject line of the email I sent to her parents, I wrote, "Natalie IS with Lucky" and then typed out her message. I felt honored to be able to deliver a message to them, from their precious girl and I was so excited that I had finally been able to "hear" messages from the other side.

Still, it left me feeling slightly disappointed that I couldn't hear what Lucky was saying to me. The next couple of nights, I could feel Lucky's presence again and tried to just open my mind and heart to whatever she had to say . . . and once again, I heard nothing. I told her how sorry I was that I wasn't hearing her, because I knew how hard she was trying to communicate with me. I am not sure why I am blocked, although I suspect I am probably still too emotional about Lucky to keep the pathway opened. I find that I often start to cry when I feel her presence and it may result in the psychic equivalent of putting ear muffs on.

At least I now know it is possible for me to receive messages from those on the other side. It has inspired me to keep trying, to stay opened to the possibility of receiving messages from Lucky. Maybe someday soon, I'll write a blog about all the things I finally heard Lucky say.

Animals and food

When you mention issues with animals and food, most people think of things like food aggression, where an animal is so protective of their food, they'll growl at anyone who comes near them when they are eating. I've seen first hand that that isn't the only issue animals can have around food.

Sometimes people are shocked to discover that animals can get really angry if you TALK about food (i.e. limiting their food). On the plus side, it does confirm that animals really do listen to and understand just about everything we say. It is also a reminder of the importance of really paying attention to what we say around our animals.

The first time an animal got really angry with me regarding food was a while back when I was giving Reiki to a dog who had recently put on a lot of weight. While I had my hands on her, I kept getting the sensation of her body having to work really hard to deal with the extra weight and it concerned me. It felt like my heart was having to work harder, my lungs were working harder, and my body felt tired.

I spoke with her guardian about what I was sensing and asked her if she would consider helping her dog lose some weight. She said she was, although she had concerns about giving her dog less food because she hated to see her hungry. We talked about some of the options she had, such as substituting high calorie treats with things like ice cubes, which her dog loved, or giving her dog less kibble and supplementing her meal with steamed vegetables and other things that would help her feel full but not be so caloric.

Just then, her dog who had been resting very peacefully on the floor opened her eyes, lifted her head off the floor and growled at me. I tried explaining to her that we weren't talking about giving her LESS food, just healthier food but her growling continued and she even threw a few barks in there for good measure. I realized we needed to get her on board or this was never going to work.

I explained to her again why I was concerned about her weight, that I feared it could negatively impact her health, that it could diminish her quality of life and even take years off her life. I told her that we really needed her help. She was still growling but it was a softer growl now.

I asked her what was bothering her the most and she expressed concern that she might feel hungry all the time, or the food might not taste good, so we made some agreements with her. We agreed we were going to try it for two weeks and then check in with her again. If she really hated what she was eating, we'd come up with another plan at that time. We also agreed that she would continue to get her special Sunday dinner of chicken and rice. (It was very important to her that we didn't mess with one of her favorite rituals). Her mom also promised to try to make her meals as flavorful as possible. I'm happy to say that the growling and barking stopped as soon as we started talking to her about the agreements and asking for her input and support.

As promised, when I checked in with her two weeks later, I was pleased to find that she was not unhappy with the food she was eating (which even surprised her) and she noticed she was feeling less tired. I could tell the moment I walked in the door that she had lost some weight and when I began giving her Reiki that day, her body felt less taxed than before, so I knew the changes were good ones. We made another agreement that day to check in again on the food issue a month later to make sure everything was still alright. As with every animal I have ever met, they really do appreciate being treated with respect, they appreciate being included in the decisions being made that affect them.

I always treaded very carefully around the issue of food after that . . . until a month or so ago when I accidentally made another animal really mad. I was giving Reiki to a horse on this particular day. Her guardian mentioned that in recent months the horse had been trying to scratch her chest on anything she could find, whether it was the corner of the watering trough or anything else she could find to rub that spot on. She pointed to a place on the horses chest and I could see that she had rubbed some of her coat off in that one area. I told the horse I was going to put my hand there and see if I could get a sense of what was going on. The first thing that popped into my head was a food allergy.

I began asking the guardian if anything had changed in what she was eating in the last couple of months, thinking that maybe she was eating something new that had triggered an allergic response. At first the guardian couldn't think of anything that was different. One of her friends who was there with us mentioned they had been giving the horses a new kind of treat in recent months. I said, "Well, one way to tell would be to not give her the treats for a few weeks and see if you notice any change" and just then, the horse pinned her ears back and gave me a glare that let me know she was MAD.

As soon as I realized that she was reacting to our conversation about treats, I began trying to explain to her that we didn't mean she wasn't going to get any treats, that we were just talking about not giving her that particular treat to see if that was the cause of her itchiness but she didn't care. She was getting madder by the second and she even tried to bite me. I apologized to her profusely and stepped out of the stall. I knew I needed to give her some space.

I continued to talk to her and her guardian, trying to allay her fears about treats being taken away, but her ears were still pinned back. I felt so bad. The last thing I ever want to do is upset an animal. I kept trying to talk to her but she wasn't listening. She just kept saying, "Don't mess with my food" "Don't mess with my food!" - over and over again. I told her that I was very sorry and that I would respect her request, that we would not mess with her food.

She began to calm down and her ears went back up. I continued to send her Reiki to help soothe the anxiety I had unwittingly stirred up in her. Once she had calmed down some more, she told me that she would rather deal with itchy skin than have any food taken away. I told her I understood and relayed that information to her guardian.

Her guardian began telling me a little more about her horse's history, and as she did, everything about the horses reaction to a discussion about food made perfect sense. The horse's previous owner had stopped feeding her. When she was rescued, she was literally skin and bones, with every single one of her ribs showing. When her current guardian adopted her, she was told that the previous owner didn't want her anymore and thought that if he just stopped feeding her, she would die. It broke my heart to hear what she had been through and I couldn't blame her at all for not wanting someone to mess with her food.

After hearing about her history, I apologized to her again and told her how sorry I was for what she had been through. I told her that no animal should ever be treated that way and I was deeply sorry that she had experienced such awful neglect and abuse. I told her I was sorry that I had upset her and that I understood now why our conversation about treats had made her so mad. She told me again that she didn't care about having itchy skin, that food was more important to her.

I knew that as long as she held the pain from her previous trauma in her body, she would continue to feel that way. I also know how important it is to honor and respect the wishes of our animal companions. Their opinions may not always make sense to us but I believe it is vitally important to listen to them and honor their feelings about things.

It was a good reminder for me about the importance of paying attention to what we are saying in front of our animals and the importance of watching their reaction to what we say. They may not be able to communicate the same way we do, but rest assured they are always trying to communicate with us. The more we pay attention, the greater chance we have at building strong partnerships with our animals, based not only in love but in trust.