Greetings everybuddy!  I’d like to share the responses I received from readers regarding animal communication and healing.  As always, I’d love to hear from more of the readers and share your wonderfilled stories.

Assisting Cows

By Therese Royer
Quebec, Canada

I really can relate to your (Last View of Paradise) story.  I myself had cows on my farm and I always protected them.  I felt a little pain in my heart for the cow in your story, but like you I also honor her for who she is.

I did communicate with my cows and loved them very much.  Once I had a cow that had skin cancer.  One day I went in the field with two crystals in my hands and sent her love and compassion and healing with the intent of taking away her hurt.  After a while the crystals became burning coals in my hand and I could feel all her pain.  For a while she seemed to get better, but then it got worse and I had to get the vet to put her to sleep. I assist most of my cows in their transition.

The Wood dove

By Ilse and Hannah Verleyen
Belgium 

It started about 4½ years back. My daughter Hannah and I moved after a hard period of divorce and aggression against us, to a recently built home in a completely new district outside of the town.

Hannah turned six then. She is now ten years of age. Here she could play outside peacefully on a child friendly dead-end street with a number of contemporaries.

One day I had to go on an urgent errand, but I wasn’t able to find my daughter immediately! I scorned to myself, “Where is the kid this time?” Immediately the door swung open and she came in skipping with the question: “What is going on mommy, the birds told me that you are looking for me!” I was flabbergasted.

But that was not the end of the story! A few days after that a young wood dove perched on the windowsill near the kitchen window. Hannah turned aside the curtain to have a good look at the small animal. The dove stayed where it was and looked back at her! Hannah announced that she would go outside to pet it. I told her that the bird would fly away while coming too close but she said she didn’t believe me. She walked outside and approached the dove, not at all careful or silently as I would have done. A few seconds later she was stroking the dove, took it in her little hands and brought it back inside.

My first thought was that the bird would be hurt, but after checking it turned out not to be the case. Even I was allowed to hold the dove and pet it. The animal stayed very calm, looking at us with its happy beady eyes. After a while Hannah carried the dove back outside, stretched out her arms and the dove flew to her swing where it landed and looked back. Until today this courageous wood dove – we also have two cats and a dog – comes regularly to sit on the same spot, has a good look at us, and when we both have spotted her, leaves again.

Meanwhile both Hannah and I talk to our pets. It surely improves the understanding. One day the eldest of the two cats started to relieve itself upon the carpet in the living room. We did not understand why he started to do that all at once. I tried to talk with him but always struck against a solid wall! Then I asked Hannah to tell Pluche that we did not like to find its message on the floor each morning and if he would be kind enough to stop that. Hanna had a long conversation with Pluche. It really is her cat and they both look very much alike. Since then the cat stopped doing it in the house!! Coincidence???

I very much hope to experience many of these wonderful moments, together with my daughter and all the animals that surround us here. I am much afraid of spiders but since I began asking them to keep their distance we are living together peacefully.

The Dove

By Hans Brockhuis
Netherlands

Directly behind our backdoor is a large acacia tree that is very valued by us because it gives us a wonderful shade upon our back terrace when the sun is hot. In the fall it rains little leaves that are especially valued by our rabbits, and last but not least it gives shelter for many little birds, like sparrows, jackdaws and sometimes small tits.

About a month ago, however, the tree was discovered by one of the doves that frequently look up our garden in order to steal rabbit fodder. It posted itself neatly in front of the cages where Sazu and Knabbel are wont to hop in and out.

So far so good. However, one of the virtues of doves is that they are fond of leaving their marks behind, which resulted in a daily layer of excrements below the tree that had to be cleaned up, up to six times a day. Surely you can imagine that such was not very much to our liking.

But what to do about it? At first I tried to spout the bird away with the garden hose. To no avail. Then I tried to throw pine cones to him. Same result. The dove stayed where he was, he only bothered to choose another branch if necessary. Next I tried to chase him away with a long stick out of the window, next to the tree. The bird only laughed at me and again chose another branch. Someone offered to lend his small bore rifle to me, but that certainly was not an option.

Then one morning I got the idea that I would try to communicate with the bird. After all my efforts, it certainly was worth a try. So when I cleaned the terrace floor I told him that I appreciated his gifts but unfortunately I had no use for them. Furthermore I explained that he had invaded our territory and I would like him to consider making use of another tree, for instance the fir tree a few meters away, or better still, one of the trees in the park behind the house. I emphasized that I would love him all the more if he would be kind enough to hit the road and make no more use of its high-rise loo.

That morning I repeated this exchange a few times, but did not receive any reply. However, the last time I was cleaning the floor, it made one last drop as if to say good-bye and flew away, until today never to be seen again. Now we can sit there once again without fearing any markings and cleaning time is over, and therefore I now have ample time to write these words.

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Copyright 2002 Myriah Krista Walker, www.grassesroots.com.