Dog psychic. Pet psychic. Animal communicator. I’d heard the terms, but I never thought I’d need their services—until I couldn’t get my dogs to stop fighting.
It hadn’t always been that way. My two dogs, an older male (Rudy) and younger female (Bea), 8 years apart, had been friendly siblings. Then they went from playmates to sworn enemies in a single month. I needed my younger dog to tell me what was wrong, and I needed to protect my older dog. But nothing was working. I was at my wits’ end, so I decided to consult two different animal communicators. Here’s what I learned.
My two dogs had always been friends—and then, suddenly, they wouldn’t stop fighting. That’s when I turned to a pet psychic.
I had sent my younger dog off to a month-long board-and-train programme after she slipped out of one too many leads on our daily walks. Bea came to us housebroken and crate-trained but not much else, and we felt proud of the training we had given her in the year we’d had her. Sit, lie down, handshake, hop up and hop off were all mastered. Still, the more important leave it and come here remained just beyond our reach. Bea did well at school, loved her trainer, and we got weekly visits and training sessions with her, which reassured us that all was going according to plan.
When the day came to bring Bea back to our house, we pictured a warm and playful homecoming between the dogs. Rudy and Bea, reunited at last. But from the first moment she saw Rudy, Bea’s hair stood on end as she shook, growled, and launched herself at his face. We abandoned plans to work on her new skills on her lead while Rudy watched from afar, as their trainer had suggested for their first meeting. Instead, we took both dogs on a long walk together, which seemed to put things back on the right track.
Everything was fine on walks or in the car, but at home it was tense. Even the tiniest things set Bea off.
Everything was fine on walks or in the car, but at home it was tense. Even the tiniest things set Bea off, like getting her coat or lead on, or simply being in a more confined room with her brother. Bea wore a lead for the first month she was home, so we could issue a correction or corral her as needed. And that lead began to seem like a lifeline. It was the only tool we had to pull an angry, shaking Bea away from a shocked and affronted big brother who was getting jumped at least once a day.
After a few weeks of continued conflict, we packed up both dogs for a follow-up session with the trainer. Both of them had a blast showing off their tricks and having the run of the giant padded room full of agility equipment, balls and toys. They even played together, which was something we hadn’t seen since Bea had returned from boarding.
The trainer recommended we work both dogs together frequently, making sure neither was getting away with bad behaviour, and we discussed alternative correction measures to distract the dogs in mid-fight. These included shaker cans, compressed air, airhorns, and spray bottles. (For the record, none of these was enough to break up a fight.)
I came home and I admit, I cried a little. My older dog is 11 and a cancer survivor. It wasn’t fair for him to be constantly attacked, or locked away in a separate room under threat of attack during his declining years. At the same time, I felt utterly committed to being Bea’s forever home. She had been re-homed and fostered a half dozen times by the age of two when I adopted her. I knew Bea was never going to be an off-lead-dog-park girl, or a come-to-the-office-and-chill-while-I-work girl, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around making her a locked-in-a-crate-18-hours-a-day girl. We needed a miracle, and we needed it soon.
It wasn’t fair for my older dog to be locked away in a separate room under threat of attack during his declining years. At the same time, I felt utterly committed Bea, who had been re-homed and fostered a half dozen times when I adopted her.
The training wasn’t directly helping the tension. Herbal calming supplements and pheromone collars weren’t doing their thing. Time had not, in fact, healed all wounds. I felt like Bea was hurting emotionally, I didn’t know how to fix it, and she couldn’t tell me directly. I was ready to take it to the next level. I wanted to try an animal communicator.
Animal communicators work by entering a light meditative state and using their intuition to assess your pet. Yes, they’re also known as pet psychics, but most prefer not to use that term. Each communicator has their own style and methodology, which can include more or less conversation, and may or may not involve meeting in person. Getting in touch with a communicator is as easy as Google, but I would recommend getting a referral from a trusted friend or professional when possible.
Georgina performs her meditation and communication privately, then provides an email with her findings. She doesn’t want the human in the relationship to dominate the communication. I found Georgina through internet research, as I was seeking communicators with experience working with aggression issues. After filling out a short questionnaire, I was contacted by email. We agreed on a time, and I included a photo of Bea and Rudy to aid in communication.
Georgina’s email opened with a body scan of Bea, with a focus on potential problem areas related to pain and energy. She correctly pointed out some known issues (skin allergies, for instance, and a sore front right leg) and noted others that didn’t correlate to any known problem (tightness in the lungs and shortness of breath).
I’ll be the first to admit that this next part stretches the limits of belief, but I found it fascinating.
She had communicated with Bea, she said. Georgina explained that Bea was completely overwhelmed by the energy of the boarding facility, with all the strange dogs and barking. While nothing bad happened to her in particular, Bea had emotionally “checked out” and would need time and quiet to recover from the month of stress. Being in this vulnerable and overwhelmed state, according to Georgina, accounted for her aggression issues. Bea was lashing out at Rudy because of her own insecurity, not because of any specific issue between the two dogs.
The reading was quite detailed and informed. Georgina provided me with a wealth of health information and links, and a book recommendation: Dogs That Know When Their Owners Are Coming Home by Rupert Sheldrake, a biologist with deep interests in parapsychology. The book is about telepathy in dogs. I haven’t read it yet, but I am certainly intrigued. Below is an excerpt from a German documentary on Sheldrake’s research.
Georgina’s dietary advice included adding EFAs to Bea’s diet to combat inflammation inside and out, and aid in organ function. She provided links to articles on dog nutrition and aggression (Bea is currently on a limited ingredient high protein diet), training territorial dogs, and a homeopathic remedy blend specifically designed for animals and made from trees instead of flowers. Trees being close to a dog’s heart, after all.
Georgina’s reading was a nice blend of woo and science. The reading was more general than the specific question I asked, but gave such a wealth of information and paths to try that it was better than I’d hoped.
The reading was a nice blend of woo and science.
Since the reading, I have added a fish oil supplement to Bea’s diet, given her loads of massages, and focused on identifying situations where her aggression and tension are heightened. I give her alternatives to focus on, such as a favourite ball to play with when guests come over. I also do treat-and-training breaks anytime tensions are on the rise. This is a double whammy, because now she associates Rudy with getting treats! That means that Bea is preoccupied with being “better” than him at doing tricks, rather than fighting with him.
Penelope works primarily by phone or in person, locally. I was drawn to Penelope because I’d heard about her work with the King County Humane Society, where she helped animals needing healing and homes. I’d also heard about her through the equestrian community. Some communicators do offer a recording of your session, but I just took copious notes during our conversation.
This visit was much more in-depth and specific. Bea was a little hesitant to communicate at first, and let Rudy speak instead. Rudy told Penelope that he loves his family very much and was here to provide grounding energy. He wanted to be there for me to lean on. Penelope easily identified him as a happy-go-lucky galoot of a dog.
Bea decided Rudy was getting too much attention, at that point. Penelope communicated on Bea’s behalf that she was very upset to be left alone at the training school. She’d felt abandoned and like she was being punished, and she didn’t know why. She was very jealous that Rudy got to stay at home while she was slaving away at boot camp. So unfair.
I explained at this point the reasons Bea was sent to training. Penelope helped communicate that it was for her own safety and well-being, and that it meant Bea could go on lots more adventures, where she’d meet many interesting people who would, of course, be impressed at what an amazing and good dog Bea was. (Penelope had obviously picked up on Bea’s “Queen Bee” attitude.)
She felt that my experience working with Bea would provide the challenges I needed to become a better person.
Penelope then walked me through a ritual of forgiveness she wanted me to meditate upon—the Hawai’ian practice of Ho’oponopono, which originates in a style of conflict resolution within family groups. The new age spin on Ho’oponopono is meditating on a problem or a sticky spot in life and applying loving, forgiving thoughts towards it.
Penelope felt that my experience working with Bea would provide the challenges I needed to become a better person. And to … better my own animal communication skills!? Who knew?
We had quickly reached the end of our half-hour session, but continued to chat for the rest of the hour about animal communication and meditation. In other words, we went deeply, happily, into the woo.
Speaking to Penelope was joyful, fun, and enlightening. I’m sure that for many, it could seem off-putting. I was skeptical, myself. But when the session took place, I embraced it. I felt that I unlocked some emotional tension in myself, which would relieve some of the pressure on the dogs. After my reading with Penelope, I stopped having Bea drag a lead around the house, and I stopped crating her at night or when I was out of the house. Bea may have whispered in my ear: “stop treating me like a criminal and I’ll stop behaving like one!” I honoured it. She hasn’t full-on attacked Rudy since.
I unlocked some emotional tension in myself, which would relieve some of the pressure on the dogs.
The Final Analysis
Are all my problems magically solved? No. Am I secretly the next Sonya Fitzpatrick? Probably not. Did I get access to some problem solving strategies I hadn’t thought of? Absolutely. I loved both readings. Both animal communicators were deeply interested in sharing information to help me as best they could.
Just as being observed changes the experiment, perhaps the act of listening changes the communication. Because I felt like I was doing something positive about it, I felt more confident and sunny about the whole situation. I was willing to make changes to get the resolution I wanted, instead of feeling trapped by an out-of-control dog. Maybe that’s a pet psychic’s energy. Maybe that’s Ho’oponopono in action. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.
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