There is no doubt in my mind that there are people, much closer to the rhythms of the earth, who can communicate with animals. On at least one occasion I have been witness to a profoundly unfathomable piece of information conveyed straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. Like a wonderfully simple slight of hand or card trick, you can’t explain it and most of all you wish you could do it.
So it was with only a very small molecule of skepticism that I met the Communicator at the barn. She had never been there before and we offered to give her a tour. She replied that she just wanted to get started.
From her obvious lack of human communication skills, I figured her talents for talk had to lie somewhere else, why not with animals?
Having been around at this rodeo before, I withheld judgment and all leading or helpful information. I waited as she walked around Night and introduced herself, asking permission to talk with her. Night was grazing on the close-cropped front lawn and really had little interest. We awkwardly fumbled along as she repeatedly asked if I had any questions for Night. Hmm, seemed a tad leading to me.
At one point she said Night had insulted her by calling her a stupid girl for not understanding what she was trying to convey. Since Night was doing the haughty-mare-saunter away from us when she said this, I had to admit perhaps there was more to this woman’s abilities than I had given her credit for.
Unfortunately, she was flat out wrong on some accounts and no “vision” when I fed her info. For instance, I asked what did Night thought about her pasture mates? Did she want to be in a different pasture or with different horses? She first replied, “Well, she is the low horse in her pasture.” I must have given her a dumbstruck look; Night is the dominant mare. “Oh, no, that was Blessing, let me see…”
“She doesn’t like the Gold horse because she can’t hear well and doesn’t listen.” I guessed that was Angel Eyes, but I didn’t say it out loud. I just listened. “And then there is a dark one. She doesn’t like that one either because she doesn’t see well.” Hmm, maybe Magic but a “dark horse stretch” in my opinion. No mention of my other horse, Duetz, Night’s companion for many years. She stretched for clues then said Night was bored with her job and she wanted the to be the first to climb the Indian Trail. “Up there on the back of that mountain. Are there trails up there?” Again, Night should have answered that for her, we ride those trails daily.
To be fair, I believe if one has the sensitivity to communicate with other beings, I would expect they would also have to develop a filtering system. I picture Eddie Murphy in Dr. Dolittle when all the animals were talking to him at the same time. Perhaps this woman was still developing her defenses. In that case, the farmyard would have been a very confusing and noisy place.
I have used communicators in the past.
The best experience, the most profoundly convincing, was several calls I’ve had over the years with LydiaHiby
Her website lists 60,000 clients over the past 20 years.
She loves a skeptic.
Since she lives in California, I have never met her.
She has always communicated with me, reading my animals, over the phone.
Several years ago, after moving to New Hampshire, our two dogs began escaping. They were sometimes gone for days at a time, showing up exhausted several towns away. The eight-foot fencing didn’t hold them, even when I electrified the bottom. Lydia gave me some insights and suggestions but one particular comment struck me. “If you stand in front of a big glass window and look northeast is there a gnarled tree?” I walked to the sliding window of my living room and looked to the right. “Yes.”
“Larka is very upset about an animal that comes down from that tree. Sometimes more than one animal. I can’t tell if it is raccoon or a porcupine. Something like that, but she wants you to know it is bad.”
I have no idea how she could know that. The bird feeders had been raided recently and we had also had a bear in the front yard. Larka was fanatically protective of our space. Lydia could not have known what my house and yard looked like or about the wildlife activity. Her ability to perceive these images, over the phone, was proof enough for me. I just wish I could do it.
|Night being uncommunicative