This letter is written by a client of mine. I am sharing it because I think it is important to know that you do not have to be a pet psychic for your deceased animals to communicate with you. I am so grateful for these letters.
I just thought you might want to know some experiences Alison and I’ve had since you talked to our beloved standard poodle, Katie, in November. (You’ve also talked to our shih tzu, Ike, and our new poodle puppy, Finn.)
After Katie died, we started keeping a dream journal about her. I thought you might want to see the first three (and so far only) entries:
November 17, 2010
Katie tells Laura, the pet psychic, that Katie will visit us in our dreams after she passes to let us know that she is okay. Katie says that the afterlife realm she is entering into is “a golden world with beautiful people and a dog park in the distance that I haven’t been to yet.” Katie dies with veterinary assistance later that day.
November 19, 2010 – Alison
The night after Katie dies, I have a dream about her. When I wake up, I don’t remember any of the dream, only the clear thought that Katie came to me and told me that she was okay and made it to the other side.
Sometime in January 2011 – Lacey
We get a new puppy in late December, unexpectedly soon, and I find myself wishing that the puppy and Katie could have met each other. After going to bed each night for weeks asking Katie to come visit me, I have a dream visit from her. In the dream, a standard poodle is standing by my side, and I am petting it along its back. I assume it is Finn, our new brown standard poodle puppy. But when I look down, the dog’s fur is black. It is Katie. “Oh! You’ve come back!” I say. I tell her how much I love her, how much I’ve missed her, and how much I love feeling her coat again. Then Finn comes in the room. Katie and Finn calmly approach each other head on and sniff near each other’s noses. Katie is reserved but approving. Finn seems to understand the reverence of the moment and leaves again.
The next thing I remember is asking Katie if she would like a memorial in the backyard. She shows me an image of a banana plant planted in the ground. (We used to have a container banana plant that lived outside in the summer and indoors during the Minnesota winter.) I ask her if she wants any kind of marker by the plant with her name on it, and she says no. Then she shows me an image of another botanical memorial — this time a miniature tree, about four or five feet tall. It has a Japanese look and little pinkish red flowers that remind me of bleeding hearts, but are a little different in shape. In Katie’s image the tree is placed where in reality there is a fence and gate — the area separating the fenced backyard from the open front yard. (Katie used to anxiously stand at this spot and bark at people and dogs passing by.)
Knowing that Katie can still communicate with me makes it so much easier to accept the situation.
I’m (obviously) still processing the meaning of Katie’s death, and only beginning to understand her purpose and the gifts of both her life and her death.
I’m reading Penelope Smith’s Animals in Spirit, which I’ve found helpful so far. I’ve been trying to quiet my mind enough to be open to what Ike and Finn (and maybe Katie, although she feels unreachable) are trying to tell me.
I also wanted to tell you how much Alison and I enjoy the stories on your blog. We especially read it if we’re feeling down — it always makes us laugh and smile. I figured since not that many people comment on your blog, it may feel like you’re writing for no one sometimes; this is not the case.
Here’s a picture of Katie:
Thanks for listening,