I did something today that I didn’t think I would ever really do.  I took one of my dogs to see an animal communicator.  Quinn, in this case.  I went because a friend of mine, somewhat of a self-proclaimed skeptic, told me of the remarkable experience she had that made her a believer.  And I went out of a long-standing curiosity.

I didn’t know what to expect and I have to admit I was a bit nervous going in.  What if she really could communicate with Quinn and he told her something embarrassing?  Or worse, told her something I didn’t want to hear?

Or, what if it was all a waste of time?

To be honest, I haven’t quite decided what to make of the experience or what to do with it.  I know this; I do believe that Stacy could communicate with Quinn.  I believe it because of several key things she brought up that surprised me and that she couldn’t have known of any other way.  Those who like to remain eternal skeptics will point out that people claiming to be communicators and psychics are simply very good at asking general questions and picking out the points they need to elaborate on and suck in the…welll…sucker.

But Stacy didn’t ask any questions.

She began by simply asking my name and Quinn’s and by doing so getting my permission to eavesdrop on our “auras” even though she said Quinn was talking to her as soon as we came in.  He’s a pretty friendly dog so that wouldn’t surprise me.  She asked me if Quinn was eight, which he isn’t, yet, but will be this year.  She told me he is an old soul and has a rather “been there, done that” attitude and that he and I have known each other before.  On the flip side, she told me she senses a two year old lurking in there.  I had to laugh at that.

One of the first things she told me was that I come down on Quinn too hard some times although he apparently admitted that some times he deserves it.  He also doesn’t feel good all the time.  Something with his stomach and sneezing.  His left hip bothers him as well.  Hmm, could that be why is ‘away to me’ is tighter and rowdier than his ‘go by’?  But he really loves getting belly rubs and doesn’t feel he gets enough of them.

Then followed a series of rather random comments by Stacy as she communicated with Quinn who spent his time nosing around the room, occasionally climbing into my lap for a snuggle and several times climbing into Stacy’s.

“You don’t sleep well,” she told me, her focus mainly on Quinn.  “Sometimes you toss and turn and sometimes you go right to sleep but you don’t sleep well.”

I remember I shook my head at that.  I sleep like a rock most nights.  Well, a rock with frequent and sometimes bizarre dreams.

“He misses his sister,” she announced.

And that was the first moment that shocked me.  Stacy asked if Quinn had any sisters and I said yes but all his sisters had lived in other homes since puppy hood.  That didn’t matter, she responded, because they sometimes stayed psychically connected and Quinn told her he missed his sister.  I had to rack my brains on that one and a sudden realization came to me.  I remember muttering under my breath, “Was Sadie his sister?”

“Yes!” was Stacy’s answer, or Quinn’s.  “What happened to her?”

I explained that Sadie had died almost two years or so ago.  She nodded and reiterated that Quinn missed her deeply.

“He wants the liver treats again.”

That was a surprise.  I had switched to Salmon treats some time past and, if truth be told, Quinn is sometimes picky about working for them.

“And he’s bored with his food.  He’d like you to give him treats for dinner instead of his food.”

I laughed at that.  Not going to happen, mister.

Then she told me something I have suspected for some time.  Quinn misses our alone time.  He told Stacy when we’re together we’re usually working and he doesn’t want to always be working.  He wants to spend time with me not working.  Also, once he knows something he doesn’t see the sense in going over and over it.  He gets bored with it and then doesn’t do it right.  Okay, so, admittedly, that was one of those statements that could apply to any dog except that she was right, when Quinn and I have one on one time, I’m usually training with him.  And, we have gone back to square one on stock because he was being such a shit about things.

Stacy asked if I had any questions for Quinn.  “Yes,” I replied.  “Why is he always screaming at me?”  Turns out, the dog is trying to get me out of my own head.  He apparently thinks I have too much going on in my head and he is basically trying to loosen me up a bit.  He feels something has changed, perhaps my schedule, perhaps something else, but my life has been disrupted in some way and I’m unsettled.  Does stress qualify as a disruption?

My next questions for Quinn was, “Why does he feel the need to be rowdy on cattle, bite them on the nose, chase them and reek havoc?”

Turns out, he thinks the cattle aren’t listening to him.  So I looked him directly in the eyes and told him, “When the cattle are heading in the direction we want them to, they’re listening to you.”

“He doesn’t think so,” Stacy said, shaking her head.  “He has to bite them on the nose, it’s the only way they’ll listen to him.”

Then she asked if Quinn was an only dog.  I admit, for a moment I wavered and thought, “If you’re really talking to Quinn you should know the answer to that question.”  But I told Stacy no, that I had five more dogs at home.  Her brow furrowed and she frowned, watching Quinn sniff around at the far end of the room.  “He won’t show me the other dogs,” she commented.  She said Quinn doesn’t feel as though he belongs with them.  He misses his sister.  She asked the other dog’s names.  Murphy, I told her, and she told me he was something else, full of himself or something similar is what she said.  Dead on.  Grady, and she laughed, calling him a character.  Have to agree there as well.  Lace, Rowan, Shaine – oh, Shaine says her right rear leg is sore.  Well, her surgery was left rear but has she been compensating?  Hard to say.  And, by the way, Shaine’s not so sure she ever wants to have puppies.  I never mentioned Shaine was in-tact or a breeding prospect.  I let Stacy know then that Shaine was potentially going to be bred to Quinn.  It brought us around again to Quinn missing his sister and wanting more girls around the house.

“Rowan’s a girl,” I pointed out.

Stacy laughed.  “I would have never gotten that from her!”  Apparently, Miss Row’s psychic aura screams pushy, bull-headed boy.  Which, by the way, Stacy did tell me that Quinn could be a bit stubborn sometimes.  Ya think?

There were other points I’m probably forgetting but toward the end of the session Stacy asked me who the dog was that I had lost.  This was one of the other moments that caught me off guard and I really didn’t want to go there.  I am apparently very intuitive but have shut off some part of me.  Quinn told her I don’t really let him into my heart.  She asked again who the dog I lost was.  I told her Flynne.  It’s been almost nine years since Flynne died and yet it is a very fresh wound.  I don’t know why.  Perhaps because he was my soul dog.  I didn’t mention that little fact until Stacy told me several things.  First she told me that Flynne had perhaps been a bit pushy.  Um…yup.  She mentioned Flynne was with my dad.  That I was feeling like I hadn’t made some good decisions with Flynne toward the end, that I was feeling guilt about something and that Flynne said it was all right.  I did the right thing and there’s nothing for me to be sad about or feel guilty about.  That he would be coming back to me some day but not right now.

By now all the skeptics and naysayers are rolling their eyes and twirling their finger in the air next to their temples in the universal ‘crazy as a loon’ gesture.  Okay, the skeptics (myself included) will be pointing out that just about everyone second guesses the end of their dog’s life.  That maybe 80% of the people Stacy talks to could apply those statements to a dog they’ve had.  And they’re probably right.  You work with pet people enough and you hear all the stories, many of them very similar.  But I have to ask myself how Stacy could have known about Quinn’s sister?  The liver treats?  The personalities of my dogs at home that she’s never met?

I can’t answer that.  I can say that I’ve had some personal experiences with animals that perhaps make me more of a believer than some.  Yet I’m extremely skeptical of human nature and mistrusting of people on a general basis.  Was it some kind of hoax?  Did I get taken, as someone at work suggested I would be?

I don’t think so.  I don’t quite know what to think and it may take me a while to sort it out.  Perhaps because if I throw in with it 100% it will require my taking down that little block I’ve put up, the wall I know I’ve built.  And maybe I’m just not ready to do that.  So, for the time being, I think I will remain less a skeptic and more a cautious believer.  At least with this person, and this dog.