Anthropomorphism and animal communication

Today’s $40 word (there are no more $10 words available; I checked) is anthropomorphism, which means giving human feelings, behavior or characteristics to non-human creatures and things.

In addition to clever photo editing, that’s what’s happening in this image of a dog in sunglasses with a stylish sweater, scarf and sport coat. We see it in children’s literature when animals dress, live and act like humans to entertain or make a point.

Probably little, if any, of this is done with intent to disrespect animals or miseducate young humans. However, it’s all too easy for humans of any age to project a human motivation or emotion onto a companion animal’s behavior. It also misses an opportunity to see something from the animal’s point of view.

My job as an animal communicator is to go into any session with knowledge about the species I’m working with. For example, when I began doing farm work I read up on the health and behavior of pigs and goats. That helped me understand a former house pig with some adjustment issues, and I learned about polioencephalomalacia (sometimes known as goat polio) while working with a rescued, malnourished goat.

Regardless of species or issue, it’s most important to actively listen to what this animal is telling me about his or her world. Learning to blend knowledge, skill and presence this way reminds me very much of my seminary education.

The code of ethics I follow also calls interspecies telepathic communicators to “walk in humility, willing to recognize and clear up our own errors in understanding others’ communication (human and non-human alike).”

That is, until a young rabbit pillages your garden and leaves behind part of his wardrobe as evidence (I see you, Peter Rabbit and friends).

(Image by Taras Yasinski from Pixabay)

It takes a neighborhood

On the other side of this sign is a bin full of toys. Stevie Wonder was not in the yard when I walked by, but I would happily have chucked a ball (even though I throw like a girl).

I am always touting the benefits of animal enrichment, not to mention community support, with clients. So this made my day. Kudos to Stevie Wonder for getting someone with thumbs to design and execute it!

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.