Everything is energy — and everything communicates. When I interpret multidimensional information in consultations ‘everything’ includes clients’ pets and plants, houses and cars, flowers and fairies, manuscripts and other creative projects-in-progress, the higher self of ex-spouses, cranky employers — and of course, messages from loved ones in the non-physical. It’s anyone’s guess as to who (or what) will show up in consultations, but it’s always, without fail, to transmit to me (telepathically) whatever will prove to be healing, insightful and enlightening for my client.
Pets, in particular, have a lot to say. They draw my attention to their favorite toys, food, hiding places and preferred routines. They’re quite specific when they show me the dynamics involved in their interpersonal relationships with other pets or humans in their household. Some project themselves as the ‘alpha’ or bossy one, others as more wise or subdued. Most seem to know they’re on a mission to help heal their masters (and mistresses) — and to love them unconditionally.
I recently interpreted for a client’s pet — a rescue dog named Reggie, who was very determined to communicate his message. Not surprisingly, he began by expressing extreme gratitude for his recent rescue. He’d actually sensed the inevitability of my client’s arrival at the rescue center that day, and even knew he was destined to join her. I saw that the dog had retreated to the back of his pen when another prospective rescuer stopped by to check him out, just minutes before my client arrived.
As I merged with Reggie’s timeless energy, I could feel his mood was alternately calm and then suddenly skittish at certain sounds, like a door slamming. I understood these reactions were the result of the dog’s post-traumatic stress, caused by his previous owner’s alcohol-fueled rages and abuse of sweet Reggie.
My client said she’d noticed Reggie shaking and his teeth chattering wherever she took him for a ride in the car. I sensed that he associates car rides with the fateful day his owner drove him to the spot where he abandoned him.
I heard my client sigh. “All this certainly reminds me my own childhood and the abuse I suffered from my father’s alcoholism.” I felt it was no accident the two of them had come together.
“Poor thing,” she said, sighing again. I’d heard this expression of her love and sympathy for her new pet throughout the session.
Suddenly, Reggie interjected (telepathically) a vehement plea: “Please stop referring to me that way!” It was clear to me that when Reggie hears sentiments of pity, it pulls him right back into his painful past.
“Look at it this way,” I said to Reggie’s owner. “What if you ran into an old friend from your turbulent past. How would it make you feel, if after all this time, and the changes you’d gone through since then, that person were to ask you, “How’s it going, you poor thing?”
“I guess I’d immediately revert back to my victimized child-self,” she replied. “It would feel as though I’d never left my abusive childhood!”
“Exactly! Why not refer to (and approach) your sweet pup by expressing something like — Hello there, beloved one! You’re so loved!”
“I get it,” she said.
Hearing that, I’d swear I sensed Reggie signing off with an enormous puppy grin!