Animal Communication Needs Clear Communication
It's a three-way conversation
Imagine you're at work and someone asks you something so vague that it leaves you confused as to what the question is, much less the answer.
This happens to me in my animal communication readings fairly regularly.
I used to think it meant I was being tested. Sometimes it might be. But most of the time it's something simpler: the client doesn't yet know how this works, or how to work with me. And that gap, more than anything else, is what gets in the way of a good reading.
When I work with a client to communicate with their animal, it's not just me speaking to the animal. It's a three-way energetic exchange of information. The animal is happy to be heard and the person is wanting to understand their animal. I'm there to facilitate that conversation.
Animal communication depends on trust, and trust runs both ways. My clients need to trust that I'm going to be honest with them about what I receive and what I don't. And I need something to work with: a clear question, an open mind, a willingness to meet me halfway. When that trust is there, the whole thing flows. When it isn't, I can be left guessing.
Here's what I mean by "something to work with." I'm a very strong feeler. I get auditory words, some visuals, even some smells. I frequently feel the emotions, and even the pain, of the animal I'm connected to. But I can't read minds, and I don't walk in already knowing everything about your life. I connect to the animal and I get their perspective. That's real information, but it's their side of the conversation, not a download of your entire life together. To turn that into something useful for you, I need clarity about what you're asking.
This is why I always start a reading the same way: with how the animal feels, the personality they share with me, what they show me about their life. That's me building trust and the connection before we get into anyone's specific question. It's also usually where the client starts to relax, because they see the connection is real before they've asked me to prove anything.
Different communicators build that trust differently, because we all have different strengths. I'm a somatic-focused communicator, which means I specialize in feeling a pet's perspective rather than seeing it or hearing it in long form. When someone asks how an animal feels about a situation, I feel that. A heavy stomach, a sense of being overwhelmed, pure joy. With behavior issues, I can sense what the animal is experiencing directly: confusion, anxiety, a boundary they feel is being crossed. I see things they show me too, like a favorite window or their favorite spot to sleep, or going for walks, but seeing isn't my primary sense, feeling is.
Visually-focused communicators see easily through the animal's eyes. They tend to be excellent with lost pets, since they can often describe the area where the animal is, and they can describe what the pet is seeing from their own vantage point. Many visually-focused communicators are also feelers.
Verbally-focused communicators receive long, detailed stories from the animal. I've been amazed watching them work, the complicated narratives they're able to pull through. I hear what an animal is saying too, but I don't get stories at that length. It isn't how I'm built to receive.
None of these strengths matter, though, if the trust isn't there. A client trying to test me, or coming in without a clear question, puts every type of communicator in the same position: guessing at what's being asked, instead of collaborating. It's not that we need you to tell us everything. It's that a clear, honest starting point is what lets the three of us, animal, person, and communicator, actually have the conversation you came for. Here's what that looks like in practice.
Here's an example. I was recently asked:
"If I had a child that recently left the house and no longer lives here, would my dog know about it?"
I honestly had no idea how to answer that or how to rephrase it to ask the dog. However, a similar question that would have given me context could be:
"My son recently moved out, what does the dog feel about that?"
This isn't giving me information that I can use to guess. It gives me context so that I can ask the dog a question and get an answer that resonates.
When I communicate with an animal, I will frequently listen to the question from their person and then re-ask it to the animal. Sometimes, I ask the human if I can rephrase a question to be more open ended. For example, a yes or no question is not going to yield the richness of information as a question asking about their feelings on a subject.
Here's a few examples of context that helps, without you having to hand me your whole story:
Why won't my dog eat dinner but he eats breakfast?
Why is my dog afraid of the backyard at night?
How will I know when my senior cat is ready to transition into spirit?
What does my cat think of my dog?
I really want to help people understand their animals better. This is why I spend time in the beginning to feel their energy, create an energetic relationship. I also use a meditation to bring the human or humans into the reading.
My intention is always to bring forth the highest quality reading and for the highest good for all involved.
So the next time you come to me with a question, don't worry about giving me the whole story. Just give me enough to ask it clearly. That confused moment at work, the one where you don't even know what's being asked, is exactly what I'm trying to spare both of us.