I share my experience with developing interspecies telepathic communication in as much detail as possible. My hope is that by revealing my rambling journey, I will provide encouragement and support to others interested in opening up this aspect of perception. My sincere desire is to support a greater understanding and appreciation between humans and animals.
As a child
My first connection with an animal that I remember, took place as a small child. I remember laying in a baby buggy with a mosquito net over it. The buggy was under a tree and I recall looking up into the limbs of the tree above me. All of a sudden a squirrel crawled onto the stretched netting and our eyes met. We first exchanged feelings of curiosity, then friendliness and finally admiration. Years later I asked my mother if she remembered this incident. She said yes and added that after chasing the squirrel away, she was surprised to find I had not been upset by the incident.
When I was about four years old, I found an injured young crow in our backyard. My father built a wire cage and I nursed Blackie back to health. He must have been fairly healthy as he was able to make a full recovery on water and white bread! He was older and wiser than I, or at least that is what he conveyed to me. He was also very appreciative of my kindness towards him. It was a sweet connection that was very dear to me and as he recuperated, I begged to keep Blackie as a pet. My parents wisely explained his place was in the sky, so one day we let him out of his cage and closed its door behind him.
After we set him free, I used to look out the kitchen window and mentally call Blackie by imagining him in the yard. Within a few minutes Blackie would be circling the yard and I would run out to greet him. I also remember while eating breakfast getting pictures of Blackie in the yard. I would then know he was back and would go out to see him. After a while our visits became less frequent as he found his own life and I found new interests. After my friendship with Blackie and until 1991, I have no conscious memory of telepathic communication with animals
When you develop a friendship with anyone, human or animal, I think it's natural to want to communicate more deeply with them. Years ago my husband and I contacted Lydia Hiby, a well known animal communicator, to hear about our cats' inner world. She told us the layout of our house, with all sorts of interesting details we were well aware of. She told us our cats' opinions of our house and how it was to share the house with us. Not only was it fascinating, but it was helpful in our future interactions with them.
A couple years later, I came across an audio series by animal communicator Penelope Smith, and tried out her 'how to' tape. I was excited to find that communicating with animals was something that could be consciously done and it came quite naturally for me. I was thrilled and started chatting away with, not only our cats, but any animal that would talk to me!
Communication during dreaming
Soon after I started conversing with animals, my dreams became more lucid. My dreams frequently included domestic cats and dogs, in which we connected by looking deeply into each other's eyes. Sometimes it was an animal I knew, sometimes it was unknown animals. Each night was an adventure and I awoke with feelings of deeper respect for, and greater connection with the animal world.
Then the dreams changed. The cats and dogs were replaced by large wild cats. They paced around our house with their heads down, not make eye contact, but urgently calling to me. Occasionally they would try to get in the house. It wasn't the sweet connecting energy as before; these animals were anxious, nervous, and angry. I didn't know what they wanted, and felt fearful of them. Their energy was edgy and demanding, and I frequently awoke in the middle of the night, breathless, not knowing what to do. I felt their presence even after awakening and several times I wondered if large cats from a traveling circus had gotten loose and found their way to our home!
I have always had a deep connection with cats. If I was to have this experience today, after years of experience, I would go into conversation with them. But at that time, it was completely overwhelming.
Around this time I had a dream in which Jeeves, one of our cats, and I had a conversation. He was giving me his 'wants' list including, but not limited to, more fresh meat and less dry cat food and he wanted to roam free outside the cat run my husband and I had built for him. The list was long and with each point, I responded with either an explanation of why we were doing things a certain way, or agreed to some changes
During this exchange, I woke up to find Jeeves sitting by my head staring at me. Startled, I loudly told him to never talk to me in my sleep again. My poor husband woke up to hear me talking out loud to Jeeves, thinking I was talking to him! At that point I stopped all communication with animals. I questioned if it was a healthy activity for me to be getting into and I didn't understand what was going on. Immediately Jeeves and all other animals stopped coming into my dreams.
It was about five years later that a friend leant me several books on animal communication. I read one after another, not able to put them down. I remember my re-entry into intentional animal communication clearly. I came across an author's comment that when people first start animal communication, animals will often connect with them during sleep. She explained how the alpha brain wave pattern of dreaming was more naturally conducive to telepathic communication than our waking state.
In a flood of realization and relief, I connected with Jeeves and apologized for cutting off our communication. He graciously accepted my apology and our conversation started up again. I realized much later, after more experience, just how patient he was with me. If you have ever been to a foreign country, you know how frustrating it can be trying to sort out all the sounds that go flying by. And you know you have found a true friend when you find a native speaker that will slow down and repeat things until you get the drift of what is being said.
Jeeves was that friend for me. In the beginning I would daily ask him all sorts of things. I tried to ask questions that I could get feedback on right away. For example, I always asked him what he wanted for meals. He had several options, so I would wait for the picture to come up and then give him that food. Sometimes the picture flew by so fast I missed it and Jeeves would just quietly sit there and give me a 'try it again, Deb' look .He was a great teacher.
Again I started communicating with other animals. This time I intentionally closed myself off in sleep though. I needed my rest. I talked to friends' dogs and cats. I asked them to show me what kind of food they ate, where their favorite place to sleep was, what their special toy was. If they were a rescue animal, I asked about their former home. Then I would compare notes with their human friend. It was a lot of fun.
Asking for clarification
One day I got a call about a little Siamese cat named Sanga that needed a home. My husband and I went and met her. She was confused and very distraught due to being separated from her beloved person. I came home and asked Jeeves about her joining us. Immediately he gave a tired look and said, 'not this again'.
Jeeves' first two feline companions had been feral rescued cats that had been upset or sick when they first joined us. Since their death he had been enjoying a peaceful retirement and wasn't so sure he wanted a change. I explained how she was normally said to be a very sweet personality and she very much needed a home. He finally consented and we prepared for Sanga to join us.
I connected with her and asked her what kind of food she was used to. I knew what she was getting at her foster home, but wanted to provide her with what felt like 'home' cooking. I sent her a picture of a white empty bowl. She sent me a picture of reddish brown dry cat food in the shape of little stars. I recognized it as inexpensive grocery store cat food, which I was hesitant to get. I asked again and then she showed me something that looked like pink applesauce in a bowl. I got some dry food and pink applesauce.
The next day we brought Sanga home. I offered her the dry food and also a bowl of the pink applesauce. The dry food met with her approval, but she sniffed the pink applesauce and then scratched over it as if to bury something offensive. I was confused, and wondered if I had gotten the picture wrong. I called her former owner and asked her if Sanga had ever had applesauce. She said no, only dry cat food and described the food I had seen. Later in the day she called back and said that Sanga had eaten pureed baby food lamb once when she was sick and liked it. I ran to the grocery store and low and behold, the lamb puree looked just like what I had seen and had assumed was pink applesauce! I had learned a valuable lesson; ask for clarification!
Communication with a new species
In my early days of interspecies communication, the thought of communication with smaller creatures had not even crossed my mind. One day as I was scraping paint off of an exterior window pane, I noticed a spider in the corner. I was not a fan of spiders at that time, so I took a soft cloth and brushed him down off the glass. Immediately I felt the energy of indignation and looked around, thinking someone was beside me. Then I realized it was the spider. I was amazed at his presence!
The communication was very clear and I immediately apologized and offered to escort him to the grassy area. I asked him to get on the cloth but to please not crawl onto my hand. He perched on the tip of the cloth as I took him over to the tall grass. He refused to get off. I felt confused until he sent me a picture of a bird eating him. I realized he wanted a more secluded area so I lowered him to the ground. He immediately walked off and I felt a wave of gratitude. I was stunned and my world expanded a bit more.
Experiences with healing energy
By the time our cat Jeeves was diagnosed with cancer, the disease was advanced. He was an older cat and we agreed with our vet to not put him through the discomfort of medical treatment. Our aim was to make the rest of his time with us as comfortable as possible. I accepted that our friend had cancer but wanted to see if Jeeves had ideas as to how we could help him heal. I sat with him many times without getting any clear direction beyond some favorite food or just an exchange of love and affection.
One day after connecting with Jeeves I remained sitting with my eyes closed and sent out a prayer. I prayed to God to help me help Jeeves. Immediately I saw Jeeves on his back as if on a white table. Then I saw a white light shoot out of my hand and, as if it was a scalpel, I watched the light open Jeeves up from his throat to his groin. His sides opened like a book's pages and I was able to go through his internal organs one by one, inspecting each for signs of disease. I could see a lot of the cancerous growth surrounding organs, but not in them yet, and this gave me hope. Then I had the thought, 'so what do I do now?' and all of a sudden lights of different colors starting pouring out of my hands into different parts of his body.
After a while the light disappeared and the picture of Jeeves' body disappeared and I found myself again sitting on our sofa across from Jeeves. I opened my eyes and found Jeeves looking at me in with an interested look on his face. This was my first experience with healing energy. I repeated this light healing many times over the rest of Jeeves life. I was not able to rid Jeeves of the cancer, but I think the treatments did give him a greater feeling of comfort.
After Jeeves died I started to wonder more about the mechanics of healing. How does it work, was I taking on any of this disease, how much was I really helping? Friends connected me with Janet Sussman, a clear, sensitive healer and outstanding teacher. Janet had developed a system of subtle energy balancing called Sunpoint which links the individual to his or her innate language of healing. I received treatments and then learned to give treatments to others. Sunpoint can be practiced hands-on or as a long-distance healing methodology. I now use Sunpoint in conjunction with my animal communication as a diagnostic and healing method.
Gaining a new perspective on life and death
I treasure the perspectives on both living and dying that I have received from wild and domestic animals. Animals seem to accept all aspects of life, and this includes death. After observing their simple attitude towards death, I realized that I had wasted an embarrassingly large amount of time worrying about something that no one avoids forever. Animals know if their humans are fearful of death. The main concern I have heard from dying animals is not for themselves, but for their human companions. I find their deep connection with nature, their ability to remain in the moment, and their graceful acceptance of death an inspiration.
Because most of our animal companions have a shorter life cycle than humans, most of us will experience the passing of an animal companion at some time in our lifetime. I have dealt with death in different ways over the years. I have resisted with denial and I have coached with love and support. When I was finally able to be there in the moment, it was an incredible experience. Time stood still and I felt I was in the right place at the right time.
Dying naturally versus dying with help
We have domesticated animals and their lives with us are very different than they would be in the wild. We can offer them better nutrition, help in recovering from illnesses and injuries, and we can also offer them an easy way to pass out of their bodies if need be. It is my opinion that this is part of the responsibility we take on when we bring a domestic animal into our care. I have connected with animals who move out of their bodies naturally and those that die assisted by a veterinarian. In both cases the most important issue, that I have sensed, is that they are ready to move on.
A squirrel choosing to die naturally
One evening some friends called me to communicate with a squirrel they had found. He was paralyzed from the waist down, but otherwise was alert and didn't seem to be in pain. They had called a vet who had offered to put it down, but they wanted to give the squirrel what it wanted. I told the squirrel it probably didn't have much longer to live due to its condition. I asked if it wanted to be taken out to the woods, and most likely be eaten by some larger animal, or would he like to have a very painless death with the assistance of a kind person. I found the squirrel's response very interesting. He had no experience dealing directly with people and so dying with the help of a person was something he couldn't actually imagine. He could imagine being out in the woods, dying of whatever cause might befall him and clearly and calmly chose this option. I asked if there was anything he would like and immediately my vision was filled with large beautiful pecan halves!
A dog choosing to die with assistance
A woman called me regarding an abandoned dog she had found that seemed to be a very thoughtless (on the part of the people that allowed this) and unfortunate mix of two very aggressive breeds. The dog could be very affectionate, but had fits of aggression that were frightening and potentially very dangerous. When I connected with the dog I was alarmed with how uncomfortable she was in her body. Her sweet spirit felt like it was trapped in a very agitated body that she had little control over. This animal wanted to leave her body and when she left there was an immense feeling of release, relief, and gratitude towards the people that had assisted her move. She was finally free.
Witnessing my friend's death
The following is the story of my first encounter with death through an animal's eyes. I share it with you to encourage you to give and receive this blessing for yourself
Jeeves was our first cat. He was a prince of cats. He came to us when he was about 7 months old and passed out of our lives 14 years later. The time flew by. He amused us with his antics, watched over us when we were sick, and attended all of the classes I taught out of my home studio. He learned to use the toilet and flush. What more can I say - he was amazing!
One day we found some growths on Jeeves' leg. Our vet thought they were just artifacts of old age, but told us to watch them. We watched but soon it became clear that there was cancer growing in his body. Most of us do not know how much time we have left, but when something demands we realize that our lives in these bodies are finite, it can really shake one's world. Every morning I would come out into the kitchen and Jeeves and I would greet each other. And then, in a flash, I would remember we didn't have much time left together and I would feel a gripping sensation in my heart and stomach. But soon Jeeves would intervene and remind me we needed to get on with breakfast, so on we went with life. One way or another, he kept reminding me that although our time was limited, we did have the present moment. And I learned that when I am truly in the moment, that moment can be wonderful and very large.
Over the 5 months that it took the cancer to end his life, Jeeves experienced very little discomfort. For this I was very thankful. But in his last few hours, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable. He would occasionally cry out in pain and Tim ended up spending the night with him, softly stroking him and helping him settle down when the pain got intense. The next morning Jeeves was restless and distracted. Tim and I knew that the end must be near, and wondered if he wanted help passing on. Tim suggested I sit and ask Jeeves what he wanted. We didn't want him to suffer needlessly.
As I sat and tried to center myself, my mind raced, my ears roared, my heart ached, and I thought, 'there is no way in hell I am going to be able to hear Jeeves through all this mental and emotional static'. But I tried anyway. I asked Jeeves to please help me hear him. And then, clear as a bell, there was Jeeves. As his former youthful, healthy self, he filled my entire field of vision. It was as if a bright light was in and on him. I sat in awe as he calmly conveyed to me he didn't need help passing on. He explained that his body was just winding down. As I looked at Jeeves I realized it was the first time I had seen him for the bright soul he really was. I had always thought the world of Jeeves, but I then realized he was so much more than I had given him credit for. I was embarrassed at how I had misread one of my dearest friends.
He immediately acknowledged my regret but then expressed love and appreciation for all the love and support we had given him. It was one of the most wonderful experiences I have ever had. I quietly sat with my friend feeling the appreciation and love bounce back and forth between us. After about 3 minutes things began to feel complete between us, my mind was clear and quiet, my heart was full, and his image faded. I called to Tim, who was sitting with Jeeves, and asked what had happened during the last 3 minutes. Tim said Jeeves had laid down on his side and was panting a bit. I went in and Jeeves went through a sequence of breathing rapidly for few breaths and then took a deep breath and would sigh. I softly stoked him and told him we would miss him but that we would be alright. I encouraged him to let go and go for the light. This went on for just a few minutes and then he arched his back and a high little whistle came out as he exhaled his last breath and left his body. Both Tim and I sat in awe. We felt honored to have been there to witness his passing.
A lesson in trust
A wren family chose our home for their nest one spring. Unfortunately for the birds, it was also in the large fenced in area we have for our cats. One morning Eddy and Lucy brought in two baby birds. Tim was able to rescue the one that was still alive while I called in the other two cats with a promise of kitty treats. After they came in I locked the kitty door thinking I would give the wrens a few days to send off their young. After the excitement settled down I started hearing a little chirp every few minutes. The sound of the frightened young bird was still lively in my mind but after looking around, I decided the smoke alarm battery was dying, so I disconnected it and headed out for the day.
That evening I heard the little chirp again and looked down to find a tiny baby wren a few inches from my toes. It was tucked in a corner under my bathroom vanity. After closing the bathroom door, I knelt and connected with the bird. I apologized for my cats bringing it in and said I would be glad to help it escape. I told it that I was its only hope of getting out of the house alive and we had to work together. I laid my hand, palm up out on the floor a few inches from the bird. I asked the bird to hop on my hand and told it I would need to cover it with my other hand to take it through the house and out to freedom.
I have to admit, I had little hope of this working. I waited. It would chirp every few seconds and I also have to admit, I was not hearing what it was communicating. I was caught up in my own thoughts of alternative plans. Finally I reconnected with the bird, repeated the offer, and the bird hopped into my hand, just like that. My first thought was 'wow, you actually trust me?' and instantly I got a very calm, loving 'yes'. I carefully slid my hand out from under the toe kick and told the bird I now had to cover it with my hand. Again I felt the bird's calm trusting presence agree to this. I covered the bird and took it outside. It didn't flutter or chirp at all while I wove my way around four very intent cats to the front door.
Outside I uncovered my hand and thought it would fly away, but it just sat and looked at me. Again I marveled that this tiny delicate creature trusted me so. I finally put my hand to the ground and it hopped off, chirping for happiness and gratitude all the while. It flew off and as I sat on the steps reliving the experience, it flew back, landing at my feet. I jumped and made some startled sound but the bird stayed there looking up at me and then started happily hopping around. I had never seen anything like it. Then I thought the bird must be thirsty, so I went and got a jar lid full of water. I set it down and the bird hopped through it as a child would through a wading pool. After a couple minutes the bird stopped, looked at me, and scolded me for letting the cats hurt birds. Again I apologized and told it the yard would be cat-free as long as they were living there. Then I received gratitude and the bird flew away
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