Why I Wait

When we are in the grips of grief after the death of a beloved family member, our first impulse is to try to maintain a connection with him, in an effort to blunt the stark reality of his passing from this earth.  Because we can no longer touch or kiss or caress the person who has just left his physical body, we become desperate to find other ways to connect.

It's no different when we lose our treasured animal companions.  We want some confirmation that they are okay, that they didn't suffer in the process of making their out-of-body transitions, and that they know we love and miss them terribly, even if it's only been hours or days since they left our loving arms.  We ache to know how they are doing, and we feel we can't wait.

But when it comes to scheduling a consultation with an animal who has just died, I suggest that my clients do wait, at least for a few weeks, to allow the torrent of tears and torment to abate a bit, and to give the animal's spirit the space and time it may need to acclimate to a new reality.

And so I was interested to learn that respected Medium John Holland says the same thing.  I've been reading his book, Born Knowing, in which he says:

     "Until you've dealt with your bereavement, you shouldn't think about
     making a connection right away. . .I also believe that the newly arrived
     spirit needs their own adjustment time before they're ready to send
     any messages."

John is speaking about people, of course, but I think the same advice applies to our animals in spirit.  The healing and comfort you can receive from a session in which they paint vivid pictures of their earthly memories can bring healing and comfort even if you wait, just a little while, before you ask me to make the connection.  The animals with whom you joyously shared your life will still be there for you, no matter how much time has gone by.

***

You'll have an opportunity to connect with departed animals and people at  the upcoming Conference on Animals in the Afterlife, when Joanne Gerber will be doing live, spontaneous spirit readings for members of the audience.  You won't want to miss it.

What Animals in the Afterlife Know

Sophie

In celebration of her new book, Speak Woof & Meow, Ronni Ann Hall of The Designing Fairy invited several animal communicators--including me--to submit guest posts for her blog during the month of September.

I was grateful for Ronni Ann's invitation, and delighted to participate.  My piece, entitled "What Animals in the Afterlife Know," was published today.

"In my experience as an animal communicator," I wrote, I've learned that animals who have left their bodies behind can continue to stay involved in our lives in wonderful and sometimes magical ways.  They know what we say; they see what we do."

If you'd like to read my account of the verifiable information that was shared with me by Dawson and Sophie, two amazing animals in spirit, please read the post on The Designing Fairy blog.

Among the other topics that will be featured there through the end of this month are "communicating with feral cats," "hearing animals telepathically," and "how to help your animal transition."  Ronni Ann will also publish excerpts from Speak Woof & Meow on September 24th, as part of this series.

The Guns of September

Every morning during the month of August, I delighted to see dozens of Canada Geese lazing in small groups throughout a verdant hay field in Holden.  I would try to count them, but there were so many, I couldn't.   On some days, there had to be 60, or more.  They were relaxed and happy and peaceful, and my dogs and I nodded silently at their beauty and majesty as we passed the flocks during our daily morning walk.  The geese felt safe in that field, with no thought of danger.  They've been coming to this same haven for years.

On Friday, they were gone, without a trace.  I assumed they'd started their fall migration, and wished them well.  But then on Sunday morning, I heard the familiar sound of honking hordes, and saw 20 or 30 of them circle the field, and then land.  Were these the geese of August, or a new battalion, stopping to fuel and then continue their southerly journey.  I didn't know.

Yesterday, it happened again.  A V-formation of geese suddenly appeared in the sky and then gently floated into the quiet grass, in slow motion.  I was awed at their precision.

But this morning, everything changed.  Dozens of geese flew so low that I could hear their wings flapping as they passed overhead.  As I watched them veer in search of a soft landing, I was horror struck at the simultaneous boom of guns and the gut-wrenching sight of one, two, three geese felled from the sky, without warning, by greedy and blood-thirsty hunters who had been hiding in wait.

Perhaps a half-dozen of the geese had already landed--their fate unknown--but the ones in flight immediately understood that something was terribly wrong, and wafted out of reach as fast as they could.  I felt sick, and heartbroken as I spied the three hunters, almost literally smacking their chops, hungry for more.  The blood of the geese they'd already spilled wasn't enough.  They'd wait for the flock to return, as they knew it would.  I complained loudly and bitterly to the men, but they just sneered.

My heart stopped as I saw the huge flocks circle back to where some of them had been shot down.  Here we go again, I thought.  I couldn't bear to watch the continued carnage.  The geese were heading in my direction, and I could hear the hunters cock their guns behind me.  With all my heart, I said, "no, no, go back, go back!"  It felt like I was watching the rerun of a violent movie, and I braced myself for what was to come.

But then magically, the geese somehow realized that if they continued on their intended trajectory, the formerly welcoming pasture would become their killing field, and as one, they turned away, beyond the guns' reach.  I don't know how they knew, but I was grateful that at least for this morning, no more geese would fall from this sky.  They remain at risk through September 25th, and I cringe at how many more will be brutally shot down throughout this Commonwealth, all in the name of sport.