Want a better connection with your dog, cat, horse or other companion? This newly revised, mobile-friendly guide can get you started.
As an animal communicator and professional writer, I know how important it is to be succinct. That’s why I streamlined the earlier version to make it even easier to begin to find the answers you seek.
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That’s what I told the three cats, thinking they wouldn’t believe me. But they worked out the logistics themselves. The tabby stayed put in my lap, 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.
Of course there’s enough healing energy to go around, just as there’s enough love to go around. In a world of finite space, allotted time and the ways different species regard resources, we can still be fair. The animals, in fact, might be able to work it out themselves and teach us. 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.
There is generally a pecking order among horses. If I want to let a herd know about a change or event, I’ll speak to all of them — but ask, say, the lead mare to help the others remain calm. That respects the horses and helps them all feel safer.
I’ve also learned that if a horse comes to the fence or sticks his head out of a stall, I need to see him first because there’s probably a reason. For example: Mojo the Tennessee Walker, above, very often walked to the fence when I arrived. His “Hey, over here! Me first!” was never subtle.
One day Mojo turned around, pressed his backside to the fence and asked for hands-on energy. After about 20 minutes he walked off, seeming a bit relieved, but I had picked up on some pain on the left side. The equine chiropractor saw him shortly thereafter and sent me a diagram of his misalignment. No wonder he was hurting. Another time he needed a kind word because his buddy left his side (and because he did not get chosen) for a special ride with a delightful eighty-something lady.
They might 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 where I trained had adopted two young calves as her own. When I approached their stall and offered to share a healing meditation, the cow turned her head toward the two calves. Anything I was offering should go to them first, she told me. I assured her that all of them were free to participate — but following her lead, I turned toward the youngsters. As the session continued, I felt mama cow join us as she figured out she wasn’t taking anything away from her young charges.
Don’t placate. Just toss the ball.
Dogs are famous for their “how could you?” look if they detect another dog’s scent on you. Or if you are brazen enough to pay attention to another dog right in front of them, you cad. Canine jealousy was even documented in a University of California study.
Imploring dogs not to be jealous and/or to wait their turn is not likely to make them feel any less wronged. (Trust me; I used to do both.) With animals, actions speak louder than words, and energy speaks even louder. If I come home with the scent of other dogs on me, I let my dogs sniff without comment. Then I make sure they get some one-on-one time — a belly rub or a couple of toy tosses mean more than you know.
When we build even a little more awareness and trust, “enough” can look like plenty.
As the July 4 fireworks intensified, Iona the German shepherd trotted from one window to another — an elevated version of what her mom calls (and I paraphrase) guard dog stuff.
By the time night fell, a calming chew had taken the edge off, but she was still distressed by the pops, bangs and booms she could hear and feel but not see. How was she supposed to respond to this threat with insufficient data?
I told Iona, as I’ve been telling animals for decades, that it’s just human noise. It’s rattling, to be sure, but manageable. Even though she couldn’t see the source of the noise, she was safe at home and we would ride it out together.
My partner, our honorary daughter, Iona and I settled in to watch a movie. Eventually, Iona curled up on the sofa (of course she’s allowed) with her mom, and a bit later she shifted around and stretched out with her head in my lap. I told her she was very brave even if she didn’t feel brave.
On the same night, a client of mine sat on the pasture fence as horses gathered around her. The humans on the nearest street seemed to have an endless supply of fireworks, and she stayed with the herd until the worst was over.
We are all confronted with “noise” that scares, confuses or angers us. We can’t control it, but we can manage its impact. One way is by acknowledging it and being present.
Even when we perceive the sound differently (say, like a dog and a human), we can sit quietly together and see if something better surfaces. Even if it’s just a kind word or an ear scratch.
All Creatures 