Have you wondered what your dog or cat does when you’re away? Does your bird think about you? Do they miss you? What do they do?
I was about to find out. It was Wednesday night and my weekly mediumship group was practicing psychometry. We were to bring items belonging to family and friends in spirit for the group to use for a mediumship reading. After scanning my few coins and photos, I went to say goodbye to my two dogs and cat. Seeing they were outside busily inspecting the shrubs, I turned to leave, and nearly stepped on their toys. Maybe someone might like to try reading an animal by holding an item belonging to them? As I headed to my car with a small yellow lion, green dinosaur, and a cat toy in Ziploc bags, I thought they won’t even miss them.
I arrived at the meeting, added my objects to the center of the circle, and settled in to begin our weekly group meditation. I was enjoying the sounds of peaceful music when my dog’s face appeared in front of me. “What are you doing?” he asked carefully scrutinizing me. Behind Griffin, my King Charles Spaniel, were Cohbi, my Havanese, and Sami, my tortoiseshell cat. “I’m meditating. What are you doinghere?” I replied startled. “You took our toys! We wanted to know what you were doing with them,” Griffin responded. It was all I could do to stifle my laugher and not interrupt the group meditation.
This was the beginning of random animal commentaries when I least expected them. Their second visit found me again listening to music. This time, I was reclining behind a pair of dark glasses when I opened my eyes to the sound of a gasp. “Don’t do that to me!” Griffin implored. Cohbi watched in sympathy as the dental hygienist continued cleaning my teeth. If she only knew I giggled to myself.
My dogs would continue to check in with me over the next years, with Sami cat joining occasionally. They often told me “you do the most interesting things.” It was always fun to see my human experiences through their eyes.
It was with great delight that I learned my animal friends accompanied me on a recent trip to Mount Shasta, California. Conversation and plans flowed as we served ourselves a French Canadian Tourtiere. It was one of our first dinners in our vacation house. Before the first bite, I heard “that meat looks so good!” We all laughed as I shared the comment with friends and Griffin and Cohbi continued to examine the contents on my plate. I agreed I was blessed to have friends who are accomplished cooks.
We didn’t expect to encounter such a menagerie of animals when meeting with a local distinguished shaman. His animal family included peacocks, Mexican hairless dogs, cats, a turkey, rabbits, pigs, and cows. Several of the dogs had things to say as did a molting turkey. Before we left, the mother pig ambled from her pen and thanked us for admiring her two babies. My overall feeling was we were being honored by their showing up to meet us. They simply desired to be seen and acknowledged. It was less important to talk with them than it was to accept their hospitality graciously and honor them for who they were. I will never forget the feeling of mutual respect that day.
We couldn’t help notice a sizable ant hill touching the perimeter of the shaman’s circle. The ants had relocated some distance, following their queen, wanting to be included in the energy of the sacred ceremonies performed in the circle.
As we prepared to leave, a cat ran over to me, crawling over my arms and shoulders, wanting to be held and petted. He appeared to be a small bobcat; we learned he was a cross between a bobcat and a domestic cat. Our shaman friend laughed when he took the opportunity to ask for more food, showing me the shape of a fish. Nearby was an almost empty dish of fish-shaped kibble.
As we walked toward the car after saying our goodbyes, something hit the car with a thump. My new cat friend left four paw prints on the car window and door, then streaks of dirt down the car. My friends thought he was trying to jump into the window and that he wanted to come home with me. He did feel special to me also.
While driving back to our house, Griffin popped back in to exclaim “that was a really big pig and I’m glad you didn’t bring that cat home!” I agreed. I had never seen a pig that large and my new cat friend wouldn’t appreciate living in the city.
One night before bed, something black lunged toward me. I heard “black panther” before seeing its image. I learned the next morning it was Midnight, my friend’s black cat. He shows himself in this larger form when he is protecting her or the property. Midnight would show up again later on the mountain -circling the perimeter of our meditation circle, guarding us.
Prior to departure, my friend received a powerful message just for her from a blue bird. He swooped down, peering through the glass slider intently at her. It was remarkable. “Look at this bird!” I exclaimed. This was only some of the magic found in Mt. Shasta.
We said goodbye to the mountain; concluding our trip with a special closing meditation, during which our collective five dogs and one cat came in asking we send them love and healing energy and please, when exactly would be back home with them?
Griffin always says, “I go where you go!” Do you still wonder?