Big Time is a loved cat
I don't remember asking Big Time if she liked her name or if she even knows why she's called that. I guess, I never needed a reason to ask her. I met her in a space she created: her living room, the house's sala.
I told her she feels like "a rescue" and she didn't contest. In my years of talking with animals, that energy is almost easy to spot. Animals who have been saved from harsh conditions often know the feeling of real fear and so many of them have "a strong cling to life." That is, if their body survives the harshest conditions, often they choose to fight and live some more. Both of these, Big Time carried in her heart. But there was another interesting thing about this girl. She showed me a softer memory.
Big Time let me see moments of "soft hands, of weaving hands, and a warm patch of sunshine." She may be familiar with fear, but her daily life is full of weaving hands that only give her love. Her life right now is a testament to her living up to her name, big time and in big deep love.
Thank you, Big Time!
😾 A story about her pesky stinky cat boys are for a different time!
Finding lost Isis
Jokingly, I called her Egg Queen. She was fond of sitting on her egg-shaped chair. Her house was huge and humans would come and go, busy with their day. Sometimes, there would be music that lulls her to sleep. Isis is not to be blamed for her friendliness. She did not want to leave her home. This was never an idea she had.
Isis showed me that someone beckoned her to come to them. They were near the kitchen, where a water dispenser was. She heared it gurgle when she passed by. Full of curiosity and trust, Isis said "Hello 🎶" to the person and they responded by stuffing her in a bag. This nightmare lasted for days. For two days, I could only stay with her mind because all she saw was the darkness and all she felt was fear. She started getting hurt when they opened the bag and she ran. A cat like her doesn't know how to maneuver the streets; a cat like her can run. I begged her to stay still to be found. Someone found her, by a roadside or a bridge, inches away from traffic. She was returned home, bruised, frightened to her core, but whole.
Back in her egg chair, Isis hears her music, lulling her to sleep. It is tuned with love. May it continue to fill her home, may it color her heart where darkness bruised it.
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It is never a joyous occasion when I am asked to help find lost animal friends. With all honesty, I find these sessions heavier than 🌈 sessions, simply because of the difference in guilt and grief that both humans and animals carry. It is also most helpful to know by now that I can never command our animal friend to "go home" because, sometimes they do not want to go home, cannot go home. Or, home is different for them.
For these sessions, I quietly ask NOT where they are, but if they are still within their body. If yes, will they allow to show me what they see? Then, I go from there.
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I am also often asked about whether asking stray animals to help locate missing pets is true. The truth is it is conditional. The network only effectively works when there is genuine care for the community. How will strays care when they are hungry, ignored, culled? "Paano umuwi?"
🙏 Cultivate community even when you are not experiencing loss. Be brave. 🙏
How do dogs love us?
Alba told me pointedly that she "doesn't need me, silly silly 😒" while around us I could hear frenetic movement from her friends outside the room. I could hear them half complaining and half worrying "Why is Alba first? Behave, Alba! Hahaha!"
I laughed because I was confused. I mistakenly assumed that Alba was lonely. Alba is never lonely, for she owned this home, and that is why she called me silly twice. She lived with humans who understood her perfectly and with gremlins (dogs, actually), who were both her friends (everyday) and her herd (most days).
"I don't need you" she repeated and so the more I wanted to get to know this little dog, so certain of herself. I just asked Alba "how is your life?"
Alba shared with me memories: how she knows "real earth dirt" their smell potent and lasting, how she remembers living "not in the city" because when she sleeps "the night is so quiet", and how their home is filled with "stars on the ground."
A home with so many stars, invited, created, honored, and loved. She added "sometimes they move, the stars." The gremlins then chorused "yes, the stars! We love them! Tell her, Alba!!"
Alba then shared with me a story of how they believe that these stars come from the humans' steps. But that stopped some time ago. A devastation. When that happened, they all felt it and they all agreed-- "we breathe with them, the one who carries the grief. We share the air, we share our lungs." I told them that they didn't have to do that. "We know! This is how we love."
Suddenly, the session wasn't about Alba. It was about her humans who created stars. When our animal friends bless us with their undying love, sometimes that means they are willing to breathe the same pain until the pain unfurls into love.
Thank you, Alba.
Raya Papaya on long life
Raya Papaya wore a human-like face, a soulful face, and she did not need to tell me how loved she felt. Her humans made sure to build her paradise (even naming her cat sibling Heaven!) and honor her wishes.
Raya Papaya made me feel "she was always wild at heart" and when I told her humans this they agreed "because she isn't even afraid of coyotes and that one time we spotted a bear!" Raya Papaya continued to say that she finds her vet "silly" because she thought he was always looking for ways "to fix her."
"You cannot fix old age, Ann! You keep living and I have lived softly, even with music when it rains!"
I know so many of us love our animals deeply, because they are family. We outlive so many dogs and cats in our lives. It's almost unfair how such perfect souls live shorter adventures. But souls like Raya Papaya know that long years of living, being blessed to be loved while growing old, is not a problem. They only need support.
I allowed Raya Papaya to guide me on how best I can let her humans know how to make her feel her most comfortable. Her life at 16 years is different, and not all of our friends are happy with elective surgeries and everyday struggles with hard medicines and needles. Necessary for their health, I agree, but it never hurts to know how they actually feel about these things.
Thank you, Raya Papaya. I know I thought her name was peculiar and funny. Her human father told me "Raya" means paradise. I'm so happy she is living life that way. 🥰
Client story: her name was Dog
She simply was Dog. When she met her humans, they called her that. The humans moved so much and sensing that excited her. It got her moving, too. Her tail would not stop thumping and her legs would not stop walking. She followed them home.
Dog and her two humans went home as if they knew each other in all past lifetimes. They lived their lives tasting the flavors of what life had to offer. They had many outdoor adventures and, greedily, Dog devoured all these experiences. Because she could. She finally could.
Dog loved life. She didn't need to learn that, silly. Neither did the humans. They knew not only "how" in their minds. They loved life: breathed it, lived it, wore that love like a glove. Most importantly, Dog knew they all had something in common. They all shared that love freely, through laughter, dance, gritted teeth, and throes of grief. Being loved deeply always meant it was being shared.
They called her Dog and she let them, because Dog knew they loved her as she simply was. And their love was deep.
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Dog passed years ago. I spoke to Dog in spirit. She still looked like herself and she was lounging in a great hall of the gods. The hall was grand and cavernous, supported by massive columns of stone. There were giant drums, too. Gods surrounded us but I was only allowed to see their feet, if gods had feet. Dog was in the middle of the hall, waiting for me, wearing her face with joy and wisdom. An old spirit, a brave spirit. She and I talked, while the giant gods listened.
I could not stop thinking about Dog last week, even though my session with her happened a while back. I dreamt about her in the same great hall, except she no longer looked like a dog. The drums were playing. I had to tell her humans. But they already knew. ♥
My most memorable sessions
Unique is an understatement to describe my work as an animal communicator. Because I have received no institutional training in this line of work, my process of connecting and communicating with animals necessarily evolves over the years. Every session still presents opportunities that humble me. I am grateful for that. I am not the best and I have so many things to learn and share... I still get nervous before I start every session and I often ✨ still ✨ feel freaked out (in the best way) when the things I translate are affirmed by flabbergasted humans. Over the years, my most memorable sessions have been those that really surprised ME--
The elephant in Thailand, who singled me out in a crowd and asked me why they are there
The orange adopted cat in Italy, who asked me why humans were laughing at him when he would pass by
The deaf cat, who lost her way and was hanging out near a woman doing laundry by hand
The soul whose body and mind was abused and hurt by humans
The fish who hated his tank, whose human regarded him as a prize and put him on display
The horse who asked me why he needs to work (I had the pleasure of telling him he was retired)
The school of fish who sing
I have had the honor of communicating with animals who have crossed the rainbow bridge and haf their next adventures as a cave, as turtles. I had another session where the soul looked like a dog, who guided me to a cavernous hall filled with giant drums, music, and really tall gods dressed in robes that reached the floor. (I couldn't see their feet. I wanted to see their feet!) Interestingly, the very first confirmation of my gift was from a tree!
My career trajectory as an adult human never followed my plans. Corporate? Law? Ha! I think I will always meander on a career path but helping animals will always be in the picture. Somehow, the Universe allowed me this gift to be of service to others, and the goal of my sessions has always been to help strengthen the bond between human and animal, earth and soul.
It is my wish that other humans can truly hear our friends who live on the same waters, earth, and skies. There are tremendous amounts of pain and equally deep amounts of love. ♥
“Full of Stars”
Six years ago, Mother Cat gave birth to a colorful litter of four. She always knew what to do and she always did this alone. The birthing process was unceremonious but laborious in the summer heat. She moved to clean her kittens quickly. She licked their noses and their closed eyes. With each cleansing stroke, she sent a prayer of strength: please, live. Her first kitten was black and white. The next one had three colors. The third had patterns like a fish. The last kitten to come out of her, who was also black and white, was an unfortunate runt, small, weak, and unmoving. She cleaned him too. They all had dark patches on their face. She licked their faces. She licked their bellies, limbs, and tails. She made sure to be thorough. She didn’t stop until she was certain they were shining. To her, they shone, before they moved. Her kittens always shone. They were full of stars.
Mother Cat lived with humans. They gave her their food. They let her rub on their legs. They do not hurt her and they even let her sleep inside their home. Human homes are castles for cats, for they offered protection, comforts, and food; and in Mother Cat’s life, she knew this home was also hers. Mother Cat was big, headstrong, and full of stars. The humans lived with her and they let her live. She had borne kittens before this litter and perhaps, she will have more after this. Mother Cat lived freely, but she could not say the same for her kittens. After her first litter, the humans would take away her children before they could open their eyes and she would never see them again. Mother Cat never understood their actions, but she could never ask the humans. They could not hear her questioning them. So she knew, this litter’s fate was not any different. She prayed for them to be strong and she prayed that they shine so bright for them to have castles of their own.
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According to the first vet I brought Mina to, she was most likely born mid-April. A summer’s child, if you will. This came as no surprise to me because summer truly is “kitten season” for strays and, if you’re observant enough, you will see them everywhere. I intended to write this piece to share more about Mina. My friends already know that I did not immediately took Mina in. She, alongside her two siblings, were dumped in our community, all who were too young to have been taken from their mother.
When I tell my human clients that I do not force any question on our animal friends, I mean it. Mina’s story about her birth mother is the short story I wrote above. It is also a revelation that is new to me. I only started asking Mina last year, if she would like to share more of her stories with me. Any story was already a privilege. Her memories about her cat mother were in visual blindness, but they were rich in other senses. Mother Cat felt soft and fatty. Mother Cat was nimble. Mother Cat felt wise, but tired. Mother Cat always fed them, until they could no longer smell her around. In communicating with me, Mina has repeatedly shared a feeling, which I try to translate as being “full of stars.” Her Mother Cat was full of stars.
Sometimes, when I have client sessions, Mina would sit beside me and just listen. On some occasions, she would tell me “that one is full of stars” but not everyone is full of stars. They have some stars, but not full of stars. Humans are not exempt from this. I asked Mina about me having stars, and she simply said “yes, just like me and that’s why I like you the most!”
We celebrate Mina’s six years of life this weekend. What comes to your mind when one is said to being “full of stars?”