Since I’m an Animal Communicator, often people ask me whether I ‘talk’ to my own animals, and how well I can communicate with them.
Not so good, actually!
There are a few reasons, I think.
- The personal relationship and history makes it harder to be impartial and unemotional about what might come through.
- I’m also cautious of bombarding them; I don’t want my animals to think that if they let me in and allow me to talk to them, they’ll never get rid of me!
This week was a good example.
All was well in my world – then hubbie came knocking on my office window, telling me that my beloved horse Sioux (27 at the time), was lying down and didn’t look good. Guru, my other mare, was standing over her, which also didn’t look too encouraging.
I raced out to see what was going on. Sure enough, Sioux seemed unable to move. She would lift her head and neck a bit and look down her body, then put it down again. There wasn’t much movement otherwise, particularly of her hind legs. I couldn’t see any obvious injury.
Now, to put this in some context – just the day before a close friend had had her elderly dog put to sleep, and my first thoughts were that Sioux’s age was catching up with her. The following week I was due to fly to Brisbane and be away from home for 5 nights – would I be in any state to go if the worst happened, or if she needed regular nursing? So, in the back of my brain there was this heightened worry about what might be wrong, and all the various consequences.
Time to call the vet…
Hubbie ran in to call the vet, since I didn’t want to leave her; luckily they said they’d come straight away. (Lucky for me it was first thing on a Friday morning, not the weekend, evening, or a bank holiday, ha ha!)
I took some deep breaths, grounded myself, and connected with the universe, then tuned in with Sioux. Next I attempted all the things I do successfully in my animal communication sessions for other people’s animals, and all the things I teach in my courses. Surely my own animal would talk to me… Nothing in particular came up when I scanned her body, though I did feel there was some medium pain or discomfort. I did some TTouch, and some Reiki, and poked her a bit to double check her reflexes.
And here’s where it got frustrating. I asked – no, let’s be honest, I BEGGED – for more information. ‘Show me where the problem is’. ‘Tell me what’s wrong’. ‘Give me something – anything!!’
Nope. Nada. Not a bean. I didn’t get one measly word, picture, or feeling.
Honestly, I’m so unimpressed. What’s the use of all these skills if I can’t use them to talk to and help my own animals?
While I was waiting for the vet to arrive I went through every imaginable scenario in my head, and every emotion. There were tears. I reassuranced Sioux that if it was her time to go I’d be ok (albeit totally heartbroken – I bred her and she’s been with me her whole life). There was frustration – ‘why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?!’
She did have a poo while we were waiting, so I was pretty confident that it wasn’t colic. I checked her feet; nope, not laminitis.
Well, the vet duly arrived. She evaluated the situation and the surroundings. She checked Sioux’s gums. Then she said…
‘I think she’s just stuck’.
Relief washed over me (and, to be fair, a teeny bit of, “seriously? That’s all?!”)
We were in a ‘flat’ paddock. Of course, Sioux had chosen to lie down on a little slope… with her legs on the ‘up’ slope. And to make matters worse, there was a little bump of paddock under her withers, making it really hard for her to roll over to her other side.
What to do? The vet gave her a pain killer, to take the edge off, then we got some ropes. She pulled on her front leg and me on the hind (the underneath ones), and we managed to roll her over! Sioux got up straight away – and the look on her face was priceless. It was as if she couldn’t believe it, and she walked off straight away. Her hind legs were a little stiff looking but otherwise she was fine.
I suspect she may not lie down again for a while…
Perhaps I couldn’t talk to her, and felt nothing, because nothing was actually wrong? Maybe. And whilst I’m happy not to have a constant chat going on with my own animals, in this instance just an ‘I’m stuck, get me up‘ would have been helpful and very much appreciated!
So, if you’re having trouble talking or communicating with your own animals, or hearing them, do take heart. It seems to be much harder to talk to your own than to someone else’s. And, if you are developing your skills, maybe the thing to do is ask your friends if you can practice on their horses or pets instead!
Note too that sometimes animals do deliberately hide things from us… have a watch of this short video for why I think this happens:
Can you talk to, or communicate with your own animals, or only other people’s? Let me know in the comments! You can read more about how I became an animal communicator here.
Are you frustrated or worried that you can’t figure out what’s going on with your horse? Grab my free 6 page pdf, ‘What’s wrong with my horse‘ for more insights.
Till next time, keep connecting with your horses!
Trisha Wren has been an equine professional for most of her adult life. She rode, competed, and taught Western Riding for 15 years in Scotland, then taught horse and rider bio-mechanics in New Zealand and Australia for 10 years. She’s been a full time horse and animal communicator since April 2016. Find out more about Trisha here and sign up for her self paced Animal Communication course here.