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.

Christmas Day

As Christmas approached this year, I was filled with a certain amount of dread. I suspected it was going to be a tough holiday for me, since it would be my first Christmas in 14 years without my precious Lucky. So many things to get used to, so many ways to feel her absence.

I had already endured the process of going to the mountains to get a tree without her, and while I could feel her spirit with me that day, it just wasn't the same. When it came to decorating the tree, I was overwhelmed by how much I missed having her here to bring me her tennis ball every 2 minutes. (Lucky didn't like it much when something other than her got that much of my attention, so she was always determined to get me to play with her as much as I was "playing" with the tree while I was decorating it).

I knew I needed to find a way to get through the rest of the holiday season with as much peace as possible. I knew I also needed to allow myself the space to grieve her absence if that's what I needed to do. I received several wonderful offers to join friends for Christmas gatherings but as the day grew closer, the only thing that seemed right was for me to spend the day at the beach.

Lucky and I went to the beach last year on Christmas day and while we weren't able to go to our regular beach, (Lucky's back end was too weak by then and there are over 70 steps to get down to our usual spot), we found another beach a mile or so down the coast with no stairs. We had a lovely time - the perfect way for us to celebrate Christmas. The beach was always our most favorite place in the world. I think being at the ocean soothed her soul as much as it soothed mine.

So, with a little bit of trepidation, I headed over the hill on Christmas day to hang out at me and Lucky's favorite beach. I brought along pictures from the last year of Lucky's life, so that I could visually reflect on the last year, and filled my pockets with kleenex.

As I stood at the stop of the stairs, looking down at the beach, I was flooded with memories of the hundreds of trips Lucky and I had made to this particular beach. I was fighting back tears as I made my way down the 70+ steps, trying to remind myself to just breath and be present.

The weather was beautiful. I knew half way down the steps that I wasn't going to need the jacket I was wearing and that I probably should have put sunscreen on my face. As I made my descent, I continued feeling a mixture of emotions . . . it felt so good to be back there again, and yet, it was so hard to be there without Lucky. I thought about the millions of times I threw the tennis ball for her on this beach, the hundreds of sandwiches we had shared, the way she made me laugh and feel full of life when we were there together.

We went to this beach year round, so over the years, we experienced every kind of weather possible and I giggled to myself as I remembered the time we were there on an incredibly windy day. I was miserable, but Lucky was having so much fun, I forced myself to stay, trying my best to find the positive . . . and finally decided rather than focusing on how much the sand blasting against my face and legs was hurting me, I'd look at it as a free micro-derm abrasion treatment, compliments of mother nature. :-)

I made my way down close to the surf and sat down on my jacket. For a little while, I just took in the sights and sounds and smells. I watched people walk by and remembered how much Lucky loved to bring her ball to everyone who passed by. We always made friends with people at the beach because Lucky was determined to share her joy with everyone we encountered.

I pulled the pictures out of my backpack that I had brought with me and cried as I looked at them and thought about our last year together. There is such a huge void in my life now that she is gone and in some ways, it felt wrong to be there without her. I found myself scanning the beach to the left and to the right, looking for a german shepherd but there were none. I saw just about every other breed imaginable but no shepherds.

I missed her so much, I was fighting off one of those all out 'ugly cries' that you typically don't want to do in public. I tried to focus on what I love about the beach, besides being there with Lucky. Seeing the way the sun reflects off the water, hearing the sound of the waves crash, as the next set gets ready to roll in . . . those are the things that have always soothed my soul so I put my attention there. I pulled out my camera and took a few pictures.

A few minutes later, a darling little dog came running up to me. I couldn't tell what type of breed she was or even how old she was. She was just small and darling. She put her paws on my leg so she could reach my face and then she licked me on the forehead. Her guardian came running over, apologizing to me, and explaining that they had just adopted her from the shelter two days earlier and they hadn't trained her yet. I told him I wasn't bothered at all and then got choked up as I tried to tell him that it was my first trip to the beach since my dog had passed away and that I sensed his sweet little dog knew I needed some comfort. I was embarrassed by how teary I got but he was very kind. He expressed his condolences and then picked her up and carried her back over to where his friends were standing.

Minutes after he placed her back on the sand, she came running back over to me again. I smiled and said hello. She put her paws on my leg again, so she could look me in the eye and she said, "They want me to tell you that everything is going to be OK." The tears started to flow as I kissed her on the forehead and thanked her for delivering the message. She sat quietly with me for a few minutes as I pet her and then she got up and ran back to her guardian.

As I sat there, I realized I didn't know who "they" was for sure . . . I hadn't thought to ask her. I was so blown away by the message, I wasn't thinking straight for a few minutes. I sensed "they" was not her guardian and his friends. I wondered if "they" was Lucky and Maggie, Brandy, Clancy and Murphy, the dogs I had as a child . . . or if "they" was Lucky and Hanna, Bood, Lucy and Montana, my precious animal clients who have made their transition in the last 6 months. It didn't really matter who the "they" was though . . . to me the most important thing was the realization that someone was looking out for me that day, that someone wanted me to know that everything was going to be OK.

As I continued to sit there, watching the waves roll in, I realized that the heaviness I had been feeling all day had lifted. It was an undeniable shift. Suddenly, I didn't have to try to focus on what I loved about being at the beach . . . I just felt it in every cell of my body. I soaked up the beauty of my surroundings, I breathed in the peacefulness and the comfort it gave me. It just felt so good to be there, I decided I would stay a little longer and just enjoy being there.

Something had definitely shifted . . . because for the next half hour, every dog who strolled down the beach with their guardians came over to say hello to me. It was the strangest thing because not a single dog had approached me earlier, but now dogs were going out of their way to come over and say hello. It warmed my heart. Then, as if "someone" was determined to put some icing on my cake, a bunch of surfers showed up and made their way into the water right in front of me. I don't know how to surf myself but I have always loved watching other people surf. Seeing people "at one" with the tide, the mixture of confidence and peacefulness that surfers always seem to embody, has always touched me very deeply. I sat there a while longer watching the surfers, smiling to myself as I thought about all the things I am grateful for. In recent weeks, I had been struggling so much with my sadness over Lucky's absence, I hadn't been feeling very grateful . . . but in that moment, I was flooded with feelings of gratitude. And I kept hearing that sweet little dog's words . . . that everything was going to be OK . . . and I knew it would be.

When I was ready to leave, I gathered up my stuff and climbed the stairs. Once I was at the top, I turned around to look at our beach one more time and soak it all in. (And to catch my breath too) :-) It wasn't a sad departure though, as I knew I would be back. I knew it would be alright for me to go there without Lucky, that she would want me to keep going to the place that soothes my soul and helps me find center again. It will always be "our" beach but I now know that I can go there without her and still get what I need.

Animals Can Be Mirrors

Over the years, I have seen example after example of where our animals can be a "mirror" for us. Sometimes, when we understand what they need, we discover it is the same thing we need, or when we identify something they need to work on, we find that it is something we need to work on ourselves. I don't think it's any accident that this occurs . . . as I believe it is part of their purpose here on earth, to help us learn about ourselves and help us grow.

I am often tickled when I get to witness these occurrences of "mirroring" - to see the eyes of a guardian light up when they realized how much they have in common with their animal or when they are deeply touched by what their animal is trying to teach them.

Just last week, I had the opportunity to work with three wonderful women and their four horses. There were a mixture of physical and behavioral issues that had these women stumped and they were looking for insights into what was going on.

When one of the gals asked me why her horse occasionally would stop and refuse to move anymore when they were out for a trail ride, I began explaining what I was picking up from her horse. I sensed that her horse needed to know the "big picture" before they went out for a ride. She wanted to know where they were going to go, how long they would be gone and when she was going to get to eat again. :-)

As I was explaining in more detail about the horses' desire to have her expectations managed, her guardian shook her head and started to laugh. She said, "Oh my gosh, she's just like me!" It hadn't occurred to her that her horse needed the same thing she did but now that she knew, she was more than happy to start offering up more of an explanation before they left the barn. She knew how much it helped her, so it was easy for her to see how it would help her horse.

One of the other horses was being pushed around by some of the other horses when they were out in the pasture. I sensed some confusion in him, given that he was always complimented by all the 2-legged folks for being such a sweet, gentle horse and he didn't know how to still be sweet and gentle while standing up for himself with the other horses. I talked to him about how it was OK for him to be confident, that he would still be the same sweet horse he's always been, even if he stands up for himself a bit more. I told him it was safe to be both sweet and confident.

At the time I was talking to him, I sensed it was potentially an issue for his guardian as well, but I didn't say anything at the time. I had just met her and wasn't sure how comfortable she would be with me pointing out what my intuition was telling me about her. :-) Much to my delight, a while later when we were working with one of the other horses, the guardian brought it up herself, mentioning that she saw the connection when we were talking to her horse. She said she often was afraid to speak up for herself for fear that people wouldn't like her anymore. I suggested that maybe it had come up that day so that they could both work on it and help each other make progress on this area. I could tell that it really struck a chord with her.

The week before, one of my dog clients was having difficulty recovering from an injury. I told his guardian that I sensed he wasn't healing because he wasn't resting enough. He seemed to always feel like he had to be "on" - always doing something, and since he never stopped moving, his muscles weren't getting a chance to heal.

As I was explaining all of this, she looked down at the ground, then slowly lifted her eyes to meet mine and quietly said, "He isn't the only one who has this problem." She confessed that she had trouble being still herself, that she never seemed to stop moving either. I suggested that maybe it was something they could work on together, maybe they could take some time out each day where they both rested and were just still. I sensed that it was something she would be more apt to do since it was also going to help her dog.

I think our animals are offering us insights about ourselves all the time and there is so much we can learn if we look at ourselves as closely and lovingly as we look at our animals. All of my clients genuinely want to help their animals and go to great lengths to ensure they are happy and living a balanced life. I think their animals genuinely want to help their guardians too and will go to great lengths to ensure they too are happy and living a balanced life.

Sometimes our animals will help give us the courage to do something for ourselves, when we see how doing that same thing helps them. They really can give us great insight into ourselves. So, what do you think your animal is trying to tell you about yourself? You might be amazed at what you see if you take a look.