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In The News
Articles about Lynn and her work have been featured in the following publications Lynn has been published in Paws for Thought Zoë, a 13-year-old tortoiseshell cat who had always been the soul of propriety at home, suddenly took to peeing repeatedly on the living room carpet, in the same spot every time. "I was very frustrated and annoyed," says Tammy Neilson, a Toronto career coach. "I took her to three vets, including a naturopathic vet, and no one could see what was causing the problem." At one of the vet's offices Neilson picked up a flyer about Lynn McKenzie, whose job is communicating telepathically with animals. Neilson says she was skeptical but getting desperate, so she decided to give it a try. After Neilson and the cat had a one-hour session with McKenzie, the carpet was safe. "Lynn did some energy work with her and gave me some balancing techniques to use, with crystals and essential oils. I've done that. Zoë hasn't urinated on the carpet since that day." McKenzie told Neilson that Zoë, who used to have the run of the house, was disconcerted when the downstairs was turned into an apartment and tenants moved in. Peeing on the living room carpet over the new apartment had been her way of expressing and dealing with these feelings. It made sense to Neilson, who thought back and realized that Zoë's problem behaviour had started at about that same time. There are at least two people in the Toronto area making a living as animal communicators: McKenzie and Rochelle Gai Rodney. Both were trained by Penelope Smith, a California woman who has been studying and working in the field of telepathic animal communications for 30 years. Her books on the subject have been translated into six languages. Smith has developed animal communication techniques and taught them to hundreds of others. Her Web site includes a directory of 82 professional communicators. Dogs, cats and horses are the animals communicators most commonly work with, but they have recorded working with birds, reptiles, all kinds of farm animals and a wide range of other species. "I've never worked with an iguana," muses McKenzie thoughtfully, trying to sum up the range of her practice. "I'd be willing to, but no one has brought an iguana to me." Smith writes that animals have different priorities than humans, and they often communicate in images or impressions rather than in words. Cambridge-trained biochemist Rupert Sheldrake, author of the book Dogs That Know When Their Owners Are Coming Home, worked with professional associates in conducting random telephone surveys to 1,200 households in two locations in England and two in California. Callers asked whether anyone in the household had ever noticed an animal becoming agitated before a family member arrives home. Affirmative answers ranged from 45 per cent in Santa Cruz to 61 per cent in Los Angeles. Sheldrake concludes some animals have telepathic knowledge of their owners' movements and intentions at a distance. His book includes much anecdotal material supporting this view, and results of experiments he did with his research assistant and her dog. More dogs than cats show special behaviour anticipating their owners' arrival, he found, and some dog breeds appear more likely to have this telepathic link with their owners than others. In Sheldrake's survey, 65 per cent of small household dogs such as Pekingese and King Charles cavalier spaniels and non-sporting dogs such as poodles showed such behaviours, compared to only 38 per cent of Labrador retrievers or German shepherds. There are historic roots to all this: St. Francis of Assisi was said to be able to communicate with animals, and there's a similar tradition in some tribal shamanism and among some yogis in India. It's still a hot topic in North America today in movies Cat And Dogs and Dr. Dolittle. Lisa Goobie of Mississauga had never thought much about animal communication until her 6-year-old beagle/hound mix Kalvyn was in big trouble last March. Last summer, Kalvyn had a herniated disk in two spots in her spine. She was paralyzed, in severe pain and on steroids and anti-inflammatories. After $2,000 surgery and a long agonizing period of recuperation that was difficult for Kalvyn and the whole family, she was walking again in the fall. Last February, the problem recurred. Kalvyn was paralyzed in her back legs and shaking with pain. "It was awful to see her going through this," says Goobie. "I took her back to the University of Guelph and they wanted to take her right in for surgery and also do a spinal tap. I looked at my dog and somehow I heard her say: No. She didn't want to go through that again." She took the dog home and called Rodney, whose name she got from a Learning Annex publication, and also called a naturopath who recommended a gentle massage-type therapy. "Rochelle came the next day," says Goobie. "She confirmed that Kalvyn didn't want the surgery, and said she thought she could heal herself. Rochelle did some energy work with her. We also gave Kalvyn some herbal remedies to help her kidneys. "A week and a half after Rochelle's energy work, Kalvyn was running around, and she's been fine ever since. It was just an amazing experience. My background is in psychology and I'm definitely a doubter. I'm a logical person and I need proof. But I've come to believe there's a whole other realm out there." Animal communication is such an elusive thing to pin down that even communicators themselves who often have striking results from their work with animals, sometimes feel doubts. Smith has written about this, and drawn up a code of ethics for people working in this field. She says she has seen well-meaning individuals unwittingly mix their communications abilities with their own agendas or emotional shortcomings. The code of ethics includes: "We realize that telepathic communication can be clouded or overlaid by our own unfulfilled emotions, critical judgments, or lack of love for self or others." Rodney says such inner questions are one of the most difficult aspects of this line of work. "The biggest challenge is self-doubt, and people telling you you're nuts," she says. "The animals do tell me whatever they can. I use my own intuition to fill in the blanks. Sometimes I get information the animal gives me that is not correct, but it is the animal's impressions." Both McKenzie and Rodney say they began working with people, and moved from there into work with animals. Both say they consider that they are working with both animals and humans now, and that the relationship between the two is of primary importance. `The animals tell me whatever they can. I use my own intuition to fill in the blanks. Sometimes I get information (that) is the animal's impressions.' The two have animals they say help them in their work: McKenzie's 8-year-old golden retriever Jiggs and Rodney's 2-year-old Siamese cat Moose. Both women felt some stirrings toward this field of work since childhood. McKenzie says she was always adopting animals and bringing them home as a child, to her mother's dismay. She kept cats, dogs, fish, mice, a hamster and over the years she has successively owned four horses. "I used to show horses and the connection with the horse really helps in the show ring," she says. She trained and worked as a spiritually oriented psychotherapist, and also took courses in body alignment techniques and kinesiology. She has travelled all over North America to study in these fields over the past 10 years, including her work in California with Smith. When Jiggs was a puppy and ill with colitis, on and off for eight months, McKenzie says conventional veterinary medicine wasn't helping him, so she tried some of the techniques of energy work she had been using with people. "Animals don't have the same resistances that people do," she says. "He was completely receptive to the energy work. That is what ended up healing him." By energy work, she means working with the invisible energy field around the body. "I use communications skills to see what needs to be worked with, then I do energy work in that area," she explains, adding that she knows some people are skeptical. "Some people are uncomfortable with it because they don't understand it." She says she believes her talents lie particularly in healing and working with behaviour problems and with helping show animals improve performance. "Animals are living in such an unnatural environment," she observes. "They take on so much of our stuff, and they get very stressed." McKenzie charges $100 an hour, and also teaches a $170 two-day workshop as an introduction to animal communications two or three times a year. "I didn't set out thinking I'd do this, but I really feel it is my calling," she says. Rodney spent 17 years working in Osgoode Hall for the attorney-general's ministry as a secretary for the court. She has been doing animal communication for five years, the past three years professionally. In childhood, she was aware of her intuitive abilities, but didn't know what they meant and sometimes found them frightening. "When I was a little kid I was scared because I felt I was being watched - I felt I wasn't alone. My mom said I was hypersensitive. I see energy as shapes and colours." When she communicates with animals, the information comes in a great rush, she notes. "It all comes through like information being downloaded on computer," she says. "There are pictures, thoughts, words and feelings all at once." She says she helps solve problems with animals' health and behaviour, and often works with people around issues of pets' death and dying, or euthanasia. People often feel guilty when they have to make decisions about pets' euthanasia, she says, but animals invariably trust the people's judgment on this issue and are content with the decisions. "Animals are always okay with death and dying," she suggests. Her specialty, she believes, is getting information about past lives of both animals and people, and seeing what bearing these have on current situations. Rodney says she is careful to say what she gets from the animal, rather than telling the person what he hopes the animal will communicate. "It's simple," she says. "I don't communicate what people want to hear. I communicate what is. Some people have been angry because they get locked into a particular expectation and I can't go there." Rodney has taken courses in reiki, therapeutic touch and reflexology, but she says she is more comfortable working with intuition than with structure. She offers a course each month, and says she gets from seven to 20 people per class. She charges $150 plus tax per hour to work with individual animals and people, and will do half-hour sessions on occasion. "It's a new way of looking at the world," Rodney says of the concept of communicating with animals. "If you keep thinking `This is just a dog' or `This is just a chicken,' you'll miss it." Touch of Animal Instinct When your loveable animal companions demand your attention you had better listen. Chances are they’re trying to tell you to slow down and hop off the express bus of life and work and learn to relax. “Most animals tell me to ask the person in their life to slow down … take a moment for themselves. A happy animal is happy with our progress. An acting out animal is often sending us warning signs,” says Lynn McKenzie, an animal intuitive and spiritual medium. For the past six years McKenzie has been connecting with people seeking a deeper relationship with their animal companions. McKenzie runs workshops, in-person consultations and teleclasses specializing in animal communication and energy healing. “My work is performed through the use of a picture of the animal companion and since I’m dealing with their soul identities they don’t have to be there physically in many cases. The consultations are approximately one hour while workshops and seminars can happen over a one- to two-day duration,” says McKenzie. Her career in spiritual mediation began when she met her Andalusian stallion Lucero, who has since died. McKenzie credits the horse with helping her find balance and peace in both her personal and professional life. “I’ve always had a connection with animals ... I realized that what Lucero was able to teach me I was able to share with others,” she says. McKenzie’s guidance is effective in dealing with animal to person relationship issues, physical, emotional and behavioural modification as well as connecting with the spirits of animals who have died. Through teaching of animal communication theory McKenzie is able to get clients to tap into, guide and heal certain aspects of their lives whether it be broken-hearts, failed opportunities or even physical healing through the relationship and acceptance of the unconditional love an animal can offer. “My services are for those people and their animal companions who are open to embarking or continuing on their own spiritual journey of growth and learning through these wonderful and wise animal beings,” says McKenzie. Her teachings have been so widely praised that not only is she a speaker for the Ontario Association of Veterinary Technicians, but she has also been offered a television show in the United States. She Talks to the Animals: Lynn McKenzie, Animal Intuitive If you’re reading this article, chances are you love animals. If you love them, odds are you have one or two. And if you have them, you’ve been faced with problems that traditional medicine has not resolved. And what about those bewildering issues, like your cat peeing everywhere but in the litter box? Some of us have lost a beloved pet and were left with the added pain of wondering what became of them. Or, perhaps you’ve gotten a dog or cat from the Humane Society and behavior problems have left you wondering just what happened to them to create their fear or hostility. How many times have you said, “If only they could talk”? Well, they do. It’s simply a matter of listening and understanding what they are trying to let us know. Animal lovers are always talking to their pets and certainly many of us have the distinct feeling that our pets understand what we say. The people who treat their dogs like “it’s just a dog,” and believe that animals don’t have feelings, might argue this. But then, they may not be the ones reading this article. Nor are they likely to seek out the help of animal intuitive, Lynn McKenzie. A recent interview with McKenzie shed light on how, for people who love their furry family members, she can be a lifesaver. McKenzie, originally from Canada, has spent many years in several alternative health fields. From kinesiology to dowsing, she has adapted a style of healing she refers to as “energy acupuncture.” Working initially with people, McKenzie found her true calling with animals when she adopted a young Lab puppy over nine years ago. McKenzie and Jiggs were deeply bonded from the start. Just two weeks after adopting him, Jiggs got horribly sick. Visit after visit to a vet, drug after drug; nothing seemed to help. $1,100 later, McKenzie began looking for alternative methods to treat him. At that time, there wasn’t a lot of alternative care available. She started by asking her chiropractor to do an adjustment on the dog. Reluctant at first, he finally agreed and McKenzie saw improvement. Finding a holistic veterinarian encouraged her further. At one point, it occurred to her to try the body alignment process she had been using on her clients. Jiggs responded instantly and his health returned. McKenzie believes Jiggs came into her life to guide her to work with animals. Evidently Jiggs agrees, as he began barking loudly and wagging his tail when she told me this story. Shortly after, McKenzie took a course in animal communication, where the transfer of her skills was solidified. While attending the workshop, she had a powerful connection with the spirit of Lucero, an Andalusian Stallion, who, at that time, was still in the physical realm. McKenzie described Lucero as “a very wise being likened to an Ascended Master of the equine world.” Lucero has guided McKenzie to use her healing talents and psychic abilities for the good of both the animal kingdom and humankind. McKenzie combines her life-long love for, and impressive connection to, animals with her passion and gifts for healing and counseling, creating outstanding results as an Animal Intuitive. A session with McKenzie will awaken you to the wonders and limitless possibilities available to you and your animal companion. Sessions can be fun and informative and provide healing and better understanding of your animal on physical, behavioral, emotional and spiritual levels. Lynn currently has clients in Canada, the U.S. and abroad. Interestingly, she doesn’t need to be with the animal to do a reading. In fact she prefers not to be. In their home, she finds there are often many distractions and it can be harder to read the animal. She likes having a photo of the animal she can look at as she meditates in her own home, connecting with the pet without any distractions. McKenzie said she is able to solve a problem without even knowing specifically what the problem is. Speaking to the soul of the animal allows her to get right to the source and get very clear and concise information. McKenzie has worked on many different kinds of animals and on the pets of fellow Animal Intuits as well. She tells me that we’re often just too close to our own animal companions to know the truth. McKenzie is developing an online and Tele-class training in Animal Energy Healing and Animal Communication that she plans to have ready early this year. She also offers mentoring for newer Animal Communicators/Healers. And, she continues to work with people as well because, “it is very important at this time.” McKenzie has appeared on TV, radio and was interviewed by the Toronto Star, a very conservative paper in Canada. She believes that this is one of the many signs of our changing times and people’s receptiveness to this kind of work. Newspapers in five other cities throughout Canada picked up the article and ran it. McKenzie was getting calls from all over! She moved to Sedona five years ago, when spirit demanded she do so. McKenzie was guided here for vacation and then given sign after sign, pushing her, until she returned. She loves Sedona and is grateful for how well she has been received here. She is available for, and encourages, speaking engagements in an effort to ‘spread the word to as many people as possible and help deepen our connection with the animal kingdom’. McKenzie believes that “the animals are trying to show us the oneness of all.” She will also travel to other areas for workshops if enough people are interested. McKenzie is also a certified spiritual psychotherapist and subtle energy worker, and has studied many healing modalities including: animal aromatherapy, body alignment technique, crystal therapy, kinesiology, channeling, animal nutrition, color therapy, essential oils, flower essences and dowsing. Through the extensive use of these modalities, and continued personal growth and clearing, McKenzie continues to develop and hone her psychic abilities. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Cuddles, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." (with apologies to William Shakespeare) Surely all animal lovers yearn for Dr. Doolittle-ism. We want to talk to the animals, learn their language, know what they have to say to us and how we can help them. And people in general seem to yearn for something spiritual that the rat race just doesn’t provide. Maybe a touch of magic, too, is missing from our lives. Animal communicators are people who claim to be able to psychically talk to your animal and get answers back. These people don’t even need to be in the same room as Max or Mittens - a phone and a photograph make superior substitutes for proximity. You can read all about it. You can take courses, too. Animal communication titles abound at bookstores and local libraries, and seminars are available through the Learning Annex and beyond. There is even a television series on the Animal Planet network. A galley proof of a book entitled "Is Your Pet Psychic?" came my way recently. The author, Richard Webster, assures us they are. In fact, we all are, but this innate ability was suppressed within most of us at childhood. He tells us that some of our invisible friends were real, too The book, by Llewellyn Publications www.llewellyn.com is full of anecdotes of the psychic abilities of the author’s childhood retriever, "Bruce", and other animals in other times and places. But be on guard - included are several examples of experiments done to animals in the name of psychic research decades ago that are simply horrifying. The author’s matter-of-factness in relaying them seems to suggest that he’s more of a proponent of the paranormal than he is man’s best friend’s best friend. He’s also written books on how to astral travel, dowse and read palms. Penelope Smith is the guru of the animal communication movement. Her book, "Animal Talk" (Beyond Words Publishing, 1999), is available at the Toronto Public Library as well as through her website www.animaltalk.net . She has trained a generation of animal communicators. One of her pupils is Lynn McKenzie www.animalenergy.com . Lynn is based in Toronto but has clients around the world. Like Penelope Smith, she has a special interest in healing, but makes it clear she is not meant to replace your veterinarian. Lynn saw her first ghost when she was a child. It was her grandfather, the same one who had died days before in Ireland. He kissed her on the forehead. When she told her Mum about her experience, she was not only believed, she also learned that ghost sightings ran in the family. "I’ve always been in tune with animals," Lynn told us. She remembers, as a child, not being able to get an injured rabbit out of her mind. Later she spent summers working on farms for free, just to be near horses. Lynn worked as a real estate agent for sixteen years, then ran a practice in "body alignment" for people before becoming a professional animal intuitive full-time. She had been training to be a spiritual psychotherapist for people when her studies in body alignment www.bodyalign.com intrigued her. "I was fascinated by the energetics and realized that I wanted to work just with the energy." She credits her body alignment work for opening up an intuitive channel for her. "It’s almost like, all of a sudden, information just started coming into me." She sought training in more unconventional healing modalities such as educational kinesiology ("Brain Gym"), colour therapy and nutritional kinesiology. "Still, to this day, I take courses whenever I can." About five years ago and ten years into her studies, Lynn heard about a woman who taught animal communication and, "Right away, I knew I had to do it." During the first course, she was in a barn, grooming a pony and asking him questions telepathically from a list she had placed on her lap. Lynn’s first two questions were answered and she stood up to leave. The pony wasn’t through with her, though. He whinnied for her to return, and when she stalled with the questions, he grabbed her list and waved it in her face. Perhaps it was the intensity of the experience with the pony that gave her the confidence to try long distance communications. She now finds them easier than doing it in person. "You’re in your own quiet space where you’re used to working, with no extra, sensory things because you’re trying to sense just that animal’s spirit and energy." At another animal communication course, she had forgotten to bring a photo of her own dog, "Jiggs", to swap with classmates for practice, so she was asked to pick a photo of an animal from the instructor’s collection. That’s when she met, at a distance, "Lucero", a stallion who lives in Guelph. Lucero’s photo jumped out at her; she was mesmerized. Information from Lucero came
so fast she couldn’t write it down. Although they’d
never met in a conventional sense, he said he knew her dog, "Jiggs". Lucero volunteered
to continue channeling information to Lynn. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse, and
Lynn was "never the same" after that initial experience. He is one of her "spirit
guides", along with Jiggs, Edgar Cayce and the spirits of "Bear and "Armadillo".
Lynn calls Lucero "an ascended master of the animal realm". I ask Lynn what Woody had been feeling when he looked so ill for a week this past spring. Blood work and x-rays had revealed nothing, and Woody gradually recovered his natural joie de vivre, if not his appetite for canned food. Lynn reveals that Woody sent her a feeling of being nauseous and weak, flu-like. She feels he has food sensitivities and recommends transdermal screening. She suggests a brand of canned food made with human-grade ingredients to try to tempt his jaded appetite away from the yucky feeling he’s associating with his current food. Later, when we try it, it’s a hit! I confess to Lynn that Woody and I are very close. Lynn says Woody told her that he is one of my spirit guides, "very much interested in accelerating my spiritual path". He wants me to keep working on my own healing, growth and progress. Woody uses his remarkable loquaciousness to tell me to get my own voice heard through creative means. He has a huge aura, "like a bubble", bursting with vitality, and he’s a very evolved spirit. He’s changing me on a cellular level. At age fifteen, Jerry-the-Cairn is a kaleidoscope of symptoms and behaviours. He’s the last survivor of a terrier trio whom he bossed happily for years. He has grit, but he’s prone to unfathomable phobias. I’ve often wondered if he sees ghosts. Lynn says that Jerry admits to a depression stemming from when he was seven years old, which corresponds with a trying episode that corresponds with his history she has asked for in advance. She explains that it may be someone else’s depression that he took on, and gave astonishing examples of dogs who putatively "absorbed" the cancers of their beloved people. Having received permission from Jerry’s higher self first, Lynn uses a "Cadillac" level pulsar pendulum "to help Jerry attain and maintain good health and well-being on all levels, to help him work through the health and emotional issues in a positive way". It’s a kinesiology thing. Next, Lynn says Jerry is asking for the colour yellow. It’s a radionics thing. Yellow stands for optimism, joy, playfulness, inventiveness, originality, adventurousness, high spirits, versatility and mental ability. Sounds good! I think I want some, too. On a physical level, Lynn continues, yellow aids digestion, builds nerves, expels parasites, is a muscle stimulus, activates cranial nerves, stimulates the brain, cervical spinal cord. "Somehow I figured out how to send frequencies, and I can’t explain exactly how I do it, except to say: ‘Jerry, receive the colour yellow, perfectly now and on all levels, all aspects, all dimensions, all times’. Then we wait until he’s had a chance to receive it." Apparently, he does. Depression banished, Jerry tells her, but he’s not through with Lynn yet. Now he’s asking for a crystal - fluorite, specifically - the greeny-bluey-purpley kind. Fluorite balances gait, Lynn tells us. Show horses have it sewn into their saddle pads and runners smash it and wear the powder taped to their skin. Later, we get a nice, big one and keep it near Jerry’s bed. Weeks later, no improvement in gait has been noticed, but it’s very pretty and we like it. I’m rather disappointed that Jerry has told Lynn nothing about seeing ghosts. There are a few I want him to see and give my love to - his Westie and Yorkie "brothers" and two family cats. Lynn is frequently in touch with past-tense critters. You’ll be glad to hear that death is very freeing and allows animals to visit with everyone they have loved in all their past lives. They may reincarnate the join our families as someone else. They may drop by to say hello by borrowing the body of a living counterpart and doing something distinctively "them". My late, lamented, big, cream tabby, "Jaco", does this - I’m sure he does. Sometimes Jaco says "hi" in his own voice through Woody. Sometimes I see him out of the corner of my eye, going around a corner. Sometimes I see "Bucky", our late Yorkie, too. And it always happens well before cocktail hour, I assure you. Lynn finds that the biggest difference in communicating telepathically with animals versus people is their openness and willingness to connect in this way and their happiness that someone wants to communicate on a deeper level. We pet people reciprocate too, she says, even if we don’t always recognize this. People present more of a challenge to telepathic communication due to layers of skepticism in varying degrees. Many of us have had spooky experiences we can’t explain. As a sullen pre-teen, I once toured through King Henry VIII’s Hampton Court Palace. I was a history nut, but knew nothing of this place, which I was visiting for the first time. "And this is the room where Catherine Howard ran screaming when she learned she was to be executed," our tour guide explained as we passed through a long gallery. "No, it’s not. That’s the next room," I blurted. It turned out I was right. I still don’t know how I knew that. Maybe it’s a past-life memory. Maybe I used to be Henry’s ill-fated wife, Catherine Howard. (This may explain why I’ve never dated any redheads in this life.) Richard Webster in "Is Your Pet Psychic" provides lots of exercises to sharpen your psychic ability. Mine is obviously rusty. I tried some on my cat, Woody, as he and I are already close and he seemed the best bet for success. The "come to me" test has you close your eyes and mentally summon your creature. I summoned Woody from the living room to join me in the kitchen. In a moment, he appeared, looking at me in a particularly acute manner, I thought. Another neat thing happened yesterday. Our tabby girl, "Stretch", was snoozing in my lap, twitching in her dreams. I wished I knew what she was dreaming about but tried not to entertain any preconceived ideas. The latest book I’d been reading said that communications from animals may take many different forms. A mental picture, a physical sensation or a feeling of knowing, or a combination. As I watched my dreaming cat, I suddenly smelled fresh grass and springtime earth. No doors or windows were open. I sniffed and smelled again. Was she dreaming of her beloved back yard? Are these experiences psychic or coincidental? I don’t know that I really care. It felt pretty neat, I must say. The animals in our family have an unsentimental love and concern for each other that sometimes takes my breath away. When Scott and I decided to buy a house and move in together, we sought and followed advice about introducing Scott’s three terriers to my four cats, so that moving day would bring at least one less surprise to all four-leggers. We brought each dog, one at a time, to my apartment for a short series of brief, leashed visits with the loose cats. The first meetings were fierce and we despaired of the long, hard road to the peaceable kingdom of our dreams. But each subsequent meeting was a little less dramatic than the last. I mean, we’re talking about terriers here! Cats are always fleet-footed hors d’oeuvres to them. Once installed in our new home, the cats claimed the upstairs as their own and the short-legged little dogs were pretty much relegated to the downstairs, except at bedtime when they got a lift upstairs. One day, shortly after the move, Jaco, the senior cat, came staggering downstairs. We knew something was terribly wrong; everything said so - his gait, his very venturing into "no-cat’s-land", the strangely intense look in his eye and the yowl that went with it. He needed help and he needed it now. As we rushed to him, the other animals gradually joined us. As they
congregated, Jerry-the Cairn took up a position as a sentry. With his back
to Jaco, he was clearly defending him, protecting him equally against outsiders
and his own canine brothers, if need be. It wasn’t needed. The other
dogs seemed just as concerned as the rest of us. I think the key to communicating with an animal is to shut up and listen. To quiet our heads as much as our mouths is a skill that must be practiced. It’s like meditation and the rewards for patient perseverance are just as rich. I believe the animals gracing our lives are very responsive to this kind of sensitivity from us. We learn to listen with our hearts and minds as well as our ears. We learn to accept that simple truths, like compassion and love between our animals and ourselves, is all the big truth is about. We’re all part of the infinite universe where energy is neither created nor destroyed. It’s all of us, always. That’s pretty magical, isn’t it? |
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