How an animal communication session works

small white dog on blue and white chair
(Photo by Dominic Buccilli from Pexels)

As an animal communicator, I help animals of all species and their people solve problems and improve relationships. But the animals don’t come to my office, sit on a sofa, and tell me what’s bothering them. They can talk to me from their own homes — no Zoom, WiFi, or appointments needed.

That’s possible because communicating with animals uses that “sixth sense” all humans and animals have. It’s how you know your kid is either in trouble or causing trouble. It’s how your dog knows you’re on the way home. It’s that niggling feeling that, despite logical evidence to the contrary, something’s right or not right. (How often has that proved to be spot-on?)

Except for rounds at nonprofit barns or rescues, when I might be communicating and sharing meditation with many animals, most of my animal communication sessions are remote. I then email the human a summary.  

Here’s more about the process.

The animal, the question, and a prayer

When I begin an animal communication session in my northeast Indiana office, I have the animal’s name, species, age, gender, and usually a photo. The animal himself can be anywhere. I also have one or two questions or concerns the animal’s person wants to address.

But first, I say a brief prayer asking God to help me listen effectively, and relay with accuracy, fairness, and kindness what the animal needs her person to know. I ask St. Francis, patron saint of animals and the environment, to be with us as well.

Then I hold an image of the animal in my mind and gently tune into her energy. Once the animal responds — I generally get a sense of a head raised or ears at attention — I silently introduce or identify myself and ask permission to communicate with her. I say her person has asked me to talk with her about (whatever the issue is) and help if we can.

I’ve never had an animal refuse to communicate, but I have had a few “uh-oh, I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” responses. I assure them this isn’t about being in trouble. It’s about listening and finding a way forward.

I might ask: “So it sounds like you’ve been peeing outside the litter box. Can you tell me more about that?” Or: “You’ve been seeing some things being packed up around the house and your people have been pretty tense lately. (Your person) wants me to tell you more about what’s happening. We also want to know how you’re feeling about it and find out what you need right now.”

Being heard means everything

Then comes the most important part of all: listening with a clear mind and an open heart. Sometimes what the animal has to say will come in words, but more often I get images and emotions. I might get an image of the dog or cat moving away from an angry man inside a house. Or I might see a young girl grooming the horse and sense the horse feeling very relaxed and loved. I take notes in longhand.

I relay anything the person wants me to tell the animal and ask what the animal needs. Almost always, some action steps the person can take emerge. It could be a different location for his litter box or the need for more play time. It may be a visit with a particular person or another animal as her life is drawing to a close. In any case, I assure the animal that I will do my best to help, that his human loves and appreciates him very much, and that he is infinitely loved and cared for by God.

I thank the animal for communicating with me. Then I end the conversation pretty much the same way I’d end a phone call — I say goodbye and disconnect. Then I write up my findings and email them to the animal’s person — always with encouragement to take what resonates and leave the rest. 

If you have questions or would like to arrange a session for your animal friend, please feel free to contact me.

Permission is key in animal communication, meditation

Photo by Unlaw on Pixabay

I’m a stickler about permission, both from the animals I work with and their people.

An animal is free, at any time, to choose not to communicate with me or participate in a Let Animals Lead® meditation session. We can try again another time (sometimes a few minutes is all it takes) or I can issue a refund.

Regardless of who pays, I must have permission of the animal’s owner for an animal communication or meditation session. By owner (or guardian) I mean the person who is legally responsible for the animal, whether that is an individual or an organization such as a shelter, rescue or nonprofit. 

Having permission from the person who is legally responsible for the animal:

• Keeps everything above board, which naturally brings better outcomes.

• Respects boundaries. Put another way: Say you have a child, or an adult for whom you are legally responsible. Barring an emergency, you would not want someone to arrange a counseling session or alternative treatment for that person without your permission.

• Is in keeping with the codes of ethics I follow for animal communicators and Let Animals Lead® practitioners. 

What if there’s an animal you want to support with animal communication or Let Animals Lead® and they’re not technically yours? 

Talk with the animal’s person or rescue director and share a link to my website; they are welcome to contact me with questions. You could offer an animal communication session as a gift to support the animal (and them). If the answer is yes, I am honored to help. If the answer is no, that is absolutely fine.

Maintaining trust lets us all speak, and most importantly listen, more freely. 

Three cats, one lap and other versions of ‘enough’

Healing energy is infinite. My lap is not.

That’s what I told the three cats, but they worked out the logistics themselves. The tabby stayed put, the black cat sat on my shins and the calico decided it was more fun to sit on the counter and swat at everyone else. We all settled in for the meditation session … just as it was, which is what the Let Animals Lead® method is about anyway.

Here’s what I’ve learned in my animal communication and Let Animals Lead® meditation practice … and in my own home.

When someone sticks their neck out, pay attention.

If a horse comes to the fence or sticks his head out of a stall, I go see him first. For example, a Tennessee Walker who kept catching my eye and pressing against the fence told me about some hip and back pain. I was able to pass that along to the equine chiropractor and help him with Let Animals Lead® in the meantime.

The animals probably know who needs help first.

Animals can be astute, too, about who might need help more than they do at the moment. Two mini horses (one of whom was disabled), were hanging with a mustang who’d been battling a persistent infection. When the three of them approached me, the two minis hung back. I thanked them, worked with their mustang buddy, and made sure to see those kind minis before I left that day.

A cow at an animal sanctuary had adopted two young calves. When I approached their stall and offered to share a healing meditation, the cow turned her head toward the calves. I assured her all of them were welcome to participate — but following her lead, turned toward the youngsters. As the session continued, mama cow joined us.

Don’t placate. Just toss the ball.

Dogs are famous for their “how could you?” looks if you pay attention to another dog or come home smelling like one. (Canine jealousy was even documented in a University of California study.) Yet imploring any being not to be jealous is likely to be ineffective.

Over time I learned that when I come home with the scent of other dogs on me, it’s best to let my dogs sniff without comment. Then I make sure they get a belly rub or a couple of toy tosses sooner (like now) rather than later.

When we build even a little more awareness and trust, “enough” can look like plenty.