When Animals Speak to Us
Long before I wrote stories about animals, animals were writing themselves into my life.
Years before Willow began her magical journeys or Little Ginger discovered the hidden world beneath the streets of Bangkok, I was exploring a very different kind of connection with animals.
Through my work with animal communication and energy healing, I had experiences that changed the way I understood our relationship with them.
More than twenty years ago, I began writing about some of the animals whose lives had touched mine and the extraordinary experiences we shared. Some taught me about listening and letting go. Others showed me just how far the connection between animals and people can reach.
These were real animals and real experiences from a time when animal communication was an important part of my life and work.
These stories, and other experiences from my life with animals, eventually found their way into Secrets of the Milky Way, Book Two of Willow’s Magical Life With Animals. Within Willow’s magical journey, pieces of my own journey are quietly woven into Willow's.
Through my work with animal communication and energy healing, I had experiences that changed the way I understood our relationship with them.
More than twenty years ago, I began writing about some of the animals whose lives had touched mine and the extraordinary experiences we shared. Some taught me about listening and letting go. Others showed me just how far the connection between animals and people can reach.
These were real animals and real experiences from a time when animal communication was an important part of my life and work.
These stories, and other experiences from my life with animals, eventually found their way into Secrets of the Milky Way, Book Two of Willow’s Magical Life With Animals. Within Willow’s magical journey, pieces of my own journey are quietly woven into Willow's.
✦ ✦ ✦
✨ STAR — The Tibetan Terrier ✨
Written more than twenty years ago, this is my account of being with a little Tibetan Terrier named Star at the end of her life, after her human, a friend of mine, asked me to communicate with her.
Although I was also known as Star at the time, the story was originally published under my given name, Adrien. I have preserved that name here to avoid confusion between Star the little dog and me. I have kept the story close to the way I originally wrote it, preserving the experience and the emotions of that day.
Written more than twenty years ago, this is my account of being with a little Tibetan Terrier named Star at the end of her life, after her human, a friend of mine, asked me to communicate with her.
Although I was also known as Star at the time, the story was originally published under my given name, Adrien. I have preserved that name here to avoid confusion between Star the little dog and me. I have kept the story close to the way I originally wrote it, preserving the experience and the emotions of that day.
Star
Star's Journey Home
It was early and wet on the morning of February 19, 2002, as I walked through my favourite little park in downtown Vancouver, where I had my daily chat with my nature friends—the trees, shrubs, flowers, birds, and a waterfall.
Star was a very sick little dog. Knowing that today, as confirmed by Star, was the day I would be present as my little friend passed to Spirit weighed heavily on my heart. As I contemplated this thought, I heard my nature friends say, “A new life awaits.”
By late afternoon, the clouds had disappeared and the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, just as Star had told her human companion, Helen, it would on the day of her passing.
Star sat on the veterinarian’s examination table. She sat very still as her leg was shaved in preparation for the injection that would end her physical life as we knew it. I gave her a kiss on her wet nose and quietly started to cry.
As I looked into her eyes, I heard her say very clearly and confidently, “It’s okay...”
I took my place standing in front of Star so I could continue looking directly and deeply into her eyes as Helen held her and the veterinarian proceeded. Star did not take her gaze from me. Our eyes were locked and were one.
It was then that I remembered my good friend Yvonne, who lived in England, saying, “Be brave, Sis. Make sure the last thing she sees is you smiling.”
Although tears streamed down my cheeks, I did just that. With the biggest smile I could muster, I whispered to her, “We all love you, sweetie. You are a very sweet girl. You are so brave. You are a beautiful girl. Thank you for everything you have taught us.”
She did not bat an eyelash as she stared into my eyes and her little body slowly settled onto the table.
What I saw in the depths of those beautiful dark brown eyes was strength, peace, serenity, conviction and contentment—a knowing that it was okay, that it was her time. There was no doubt in my mind that our Star girl was ready to continue her journey.
It was over.
We stroked her soft coat for a while and let her companion, Bullet, sniff her to say goodbye. Helen and I each gave Star a kiss on the top of her head. I told her again that we all loved her.
Before leaving the room, I softly stroked the top of Star’s head and whispered, “Godspeed...”
Walking toward the door, I took one last look over my shoulder before closing it behind me. The room was empty except for the veterinarian, who had been so comforting to us all. She was wrapping Star in the rainbow-coloured crocheted afghan she had been sitting on, then gently gathered her into her arms.
I will never forget what I felt in those eyes that day. It was something I had never before experienced. I understood then why she had invited me to take part in her crossing.
Star taught me a valuable lesson about the importance of listening to and honouring animals at this stage of their lives—the strength and knowingness they can possess, and what I experienced as their connection with the Divine.
I came away believing more deeply than ever that animals enter our lives not simply to belong to us, but to enrich our lives and teach us what we need to learn. When an animal passes, we are reminded that we never truly owned them. Their journey was always their own.
That night, as I lay in bed thinking about my little friend Star, I suddenly felt a strong need to get up.
I walked over to the window and peeked through the venetian blinds.
As I looked into the darkness, there, directly in front of me, appeared a lone star.
To me, it was the most important star in the night sky.
I knew my little friend had arrived home safely.
Although my heart was filled with sadness, it was the most beautiful sight to behold and a gift I will cherish forever.
Thank you, my little Star girl.
Lovingly and with great thanks,
Your friend,
Adrien
Star's Rituals
Through my work in animal communication, I have learned that animals, when given the opportunity, can communicate their wishes surrounding their passing, including when they are ready and rituals that hold meaning for them.
Approximately a week before Star's passing, Helen asked me to communicate with her about those wishes.
These were Star's requests, remembered in Helen's own words.
The Night Before
“She had told us that the correct day would be Tuesday, February 19th. On the way home the previous day, we picked up a dozen red roses. That night I again asked Star if it was time and got a definite ‘YES.’
“So we set up the dinner. I baked pork chops, got a fresh white candle and, with roses in the vase, arranged her place setting. I cut the chop into bite-sized pieces and sat her on the chair at the table.
“She looked at me and then at the plate and started eating. She was very regal. I figured she should have been wearing a tiara. I took some photos because I just had to get her expression on film.
“When she was finished, she turned to me and I swear she wanted to know why I had not been feeding her in this manner all along.
“I couldn't help but laugh...”
The Day of Star's Passing
“At the veterinarian’s office, we laid out all of the requested items. The white candle was lit, along with the single red rose and the feathers.
“Adrien had three very energy-aware animals, and they all requested that something of theirs be present. Sugar, her horse, sent a piece of her tail. Jazz and Tango, her two cats, sent one of their favourite toys.
“I read a prayer while my dog Bullet attached himself to my left leg and did not move until we were finished.
“The veterinarian started the injection and Star's body began to lie down. It was then that Adrien used her hawk feather to assist with the rising of the spirit from the physical body.
“Then, through lots of tears, I read a goodbye poem from one of my favourite animal books. After the reading, Adrien chimed her Tibetan tingshas three times as a blessing of Star's passing to Spirit.”
The Final Ritual
A few days later, Helen picked up Star's remains. On Saturday afternoon, she carried out the final ritual Star had requested:
Star was a very sick little dog. Knowing that today, as confirmed by Star, was the day I would be present as my little friend passed to Spirit weighed heavily on my heart. As I contemplated this thought, I heard my nature friends say, “A new life awaits.”
By late afternoon, the clouds had disappeared and the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, just as Star had told her human companion, Helen, it would on the day of her passing.
Star sat on the veterinarian’s examination table. She sat very still as her leg was shaved in preparation for the injection that would end her physical life as we knew it. I gave her a kiss on her wet nose and quietly started to cry.
As I looked into her eyes, I heard her say very clearly and confidently, “It’s okay...”
I took my place standing in front of Star so I could continue looking directly and deeply into her eyes as Helen held her and the veterinarian proceeded. Star did not take her gaze from me. Our eyes were locked and were one.
It was then that I remembered my good friend Yvonne, who lived in England, saying, “Be brave, Sis. Make sure the last thing she sees is you smiling.”
Although tears streamed down my cheeks, I did just that. With the biggest smile I could muster, I whispered to her, “We all love you, sweetie. You are a very sweet girl. You are so brave. You are a beautiful girl. Thank you for everything you have taught us.”
She did not bat an eyelash as she stared into my eyes and her little body slowly settled onto the table.
What I saw in the depths of those beautiful dark brown eyes was strength, peace, serenity, conviction and contentment—a knowing that it was okay, that it was her time. There was no doubt in my mind that our Star girl was ready to continue her journey.
It was over.
We stroked her soft coat for a while and let her companion, Bullet, sniff her to say goodbye. Helen and I each gave Star a kiss on the top of her head. I told her again that we all loved her.
Before leaving the room, I softly stroked the top of Star’s head and whispered, “Godspeed...”
Walking toward the door, I took one last look over my shoulder before closing it behind me. The room was empty except for the veterinarian, who had been so comforting to us all. She was wrapping Star in the rainbow-coloured crocheted afghan she had been sitting on, then gently gathered her into her arms.
I will never forget what I felt in those eyes that day. It was something I had never before experienced. I understood then why she had invited me to take part in her crossing.
Star taught me a valuable lesson about the importance of listening to and honouring animals at this stage of their lives—the strength and knowingness they can possess, and what I experienced as their connection with the Divine.
I came away believing more deeply than ever that animals enter our lives not simply to belong to us, but to enrich our lives and teach us what we need to learn. When an animal passes, we are reminded that we never truly owned them. Their journey was always their own.
That night, as I lay in bed thinking about my little friend Star, I suddenly felt a strong need to get up.
I walked over to the window and peeked through the venetian blinds.
As I looked into the darkness, there, directly in front of me, appeared a lone star.
To me, it was the most important star in the night sky.
I knew my little friend had arrived home safely.
Although my heart was filled with sadness, it was the most beautiful sight to behold and a gift I will cherish forever.
Thank you, my little Star girl.
Lovingly and with great thanks,
Your friend,
Adrien
Star's Rituals
Through my work in animal communication, I have learned that animals, when given the opportunity, can communicate their wishes surrounding their passing, including when they are ready and rituals that hold meaning for them.
Approximately a week before Star's passing, Helen asked me to communicate with her about those wishes.
These were Star's requests, remembered in Helen's own words.
The Night Before
“She had told us that the correct day would be Tuesday, February 19th. On the way home the previous day, we picked up a dozen red roses. That night I again asked Star if it was time and got a definite ‘YES.’
“So we set up the dinner. I baked pork chops, got a fresh white candle and, with roses in the vase, arranged her place setting. I cut the chop into bite-sized pieces and sat her on the chair at the table.
“She looked at me and then at the plate and started eating. She was very regal. I figured she should have been wearing a tiara. I took some photos because I just had to get her expression on film.
“When she was finished, she turned to me and I swear she wanted to know why I had not been feeding her in this manner all along.
“I couldn't help but laugh...”
The Day of Star's Passing
“At the veterinarian’s office, we laid out all of the requested items. The white candle was lit, along with the single red rose and the feathers.
“Adrien had three very energy-aware animals, and they all requested that something of theirs be present. Sugar, her horse, sent a piece of her tail. Jazz and Tango, her two cats, sent one of their favourite toys.
“I read a prayer while my dog Bullet attached himself to my left leg and did not move until we were finished.
“The veterinarian started the injection and Star's body began to lie down. It was then that Adrien used her hawk feather to assist with the rising of the spirit from the physical body.
“Then, through lots of tears, I read a goodbye poem from one of my favourite animal books. After the reading, Adrien chimed her Tibetan tingshas three times as a blessing of Star's passing to Spirit.”
The Final Ritual
A few days later, Helen picked up Star's remains. On Saturday afternoon, she carried out the final ritual Star had requested:
“Underneath the cypress tree in my backyard, I scattered red rose petals to make a bed for Star. I then placed the urn with her remains upon them.
“As requested, I sang When You Wish Upon a Star to her.
“And at that point, I really broke down...”
“As requested, I sang When You Wish Upon a Star to her.
“And at that point, I really broke down...”
After Star's physical passing, both Helen and I continued to experience communication from her.
Star touched many people during her lifetime, and her story continued to teach us about our relationships with animals, about listening, and about honouring the bond that can exist between different beings.
More than twenty years later, I am sharing her story again.
She is still teaching. ♥ 🐾
Star touched many people during her lifetime, and her story continued to teach us about our relationships with animals, about listening, and about honouring the bond that can exist between different beings.
More than twenty years later, I am sharing her story again.
She is still teaching. ♥ 🐾
Another remarkable experience began with a Husky living thousands of miles away.
✦ ✦ ✦
✨ SHEENA — The Husky ✨
This true experience is shared in Secrets of the Milky Way.
Sheena was a real Husky living in Sweden whom I communicated with from across the Atlantic, at the request of her human.
Sheena’s Devotion
Sheena was a real Husky living in Sweden whom I communicated with from across the Atlantic, at the request of her human.
Sheena’s Devotion
Many years ago, I was asked to communicate with a beautiful Husky named Sheena who lived with her human companions in Sweden.
Sheena had stopped eating. Her family was understandably worried, but a thorough veterinary examination had found nothing physically wrong with her.
I communicated with Sheena from a distance, using only her photograph.
When I asked why she wasn't eating, I received something unexpected. Sheena communicated that she was experiencing great sadness, but that the sadness was not truly her own.
She wanted me to give her human companions, a husband and wife, a message. She wanted them to love and respect themselves and, most importantly, to take care of their health.
Then the message became much more specific.
Sheena communicated that one of them was experiencing something deep in the pit of the stomach and extending into the intestinal area. She made me understand that this person needed urgent medical attention.
I wrote down what I had received and passed the message along.
Only later did I learn what had been happening.
Before receiving Sheena's message from me, the husband had been forced by severe pain to go to the hospital emergency department. He had not told me or others about the pain. He required treatment for intestinal inflammation and remained in the hospital for several weeks.
Yet somehow, during my communication with Sheena, the stomach and intestinal area had been specifically brought to my attention.
My understanding of what Sheena was doing was equally profound.
She loved her humans deeply, and I believed she was attempting to take some of his illness upon herself. Her refusal to eat was not simply about her. She was responding to someone she loved.
But Sheena still would not eat. She continued to howl, even after her message had been received and her human was receiving the care he needed.
I asked his wife if she had thanked Sheena for her devotion and concern. Had she reassured her that her husband was going to be all right?
Most importantly, I suggested that she tell Sheena that she no longer needed to worry about him—that it was all right for her to eat and drink again.
She told Sheena.
And Sheena began eating again right away.
Over the years, my experiences with animals have taught me that they sometimes try to take our illnesses and suffering from us. It is something many people familiar with animal communication and sensitive animals will recognize, even though it lies outside what conventional medicine can presently explain.
Sheena also taught me something else.
Distance did not seem to matter.
She was in Sweden. I was across the Atlantic Ocean. She was not sitting beside me; I had only her photograph. Yet the information I received concerned something happening inside the body of a person I had never met and whose medical situation I did not know.
Experiences such as this changed the way I understood animals and the depth of their connection with us.
Sometime later, Sheena’s human sent me a beautiful gift all the way from Sweden—a large crystal ornament with a Husky carved inside. It was her way of thanking me for what had happened with Sheena, and a treasured reminder of an experience I would never forget.
Years later, Sheena's story found its way into Secrets of the Milky Way, where Willow witnesses an animal healer communicating with a Husky far across the ocean.
The magical setting is Willow's.
But Sheena was real.
And so was the experience. ♥ 🐾
Sheena had stopped eating. Her family was understandably worried, but a thorough veterinary examination had found nothing physically wrong with her.
I communicated with Sheena from a distance, using only her photograph.
When I asked why she wasn't eating, I received something unexpected. Sheena communicated that she was experiencing great sadness, but that the sadness was not truly her own.
She wanted me to give her human companions, a husband and wife, a message. She wanted them to love and respect themselves and, most importantly, to take care of their health.
Then the message became much more specific.
Sheena communicated that one of them was experiencing something deep in the pit of the stomach and extending into the intestinal area. She made me understand that this person needed urgent medical attention.
I wrote down what I had received and passed the message along.
Only later did I learn what had been happening.
Before receiving Sheena's message from me, the husband had been forced by severe pain to go to the hospital emergency department. He had not told me or others about the pain. He required treatment for intestinal inflammation and remained in the hospital for several weeks.
Yet somehow, during my communication with Sheena, the stomach and intestinal area had been specifically brought to my attention.
My understanding of what Sheena was doing was equally profound.
She loved her humans deeply, and I believed she was attempting to take some of his illness upon herself. Her refusal to eat was not simply about her. She was responding to someone she loved.
But Sheena still would not eat. She continued to howl, even after her message had been received and her human was receiving the care he needed.
I asked his wife if she had thanked Sheena for her devotion and concern. Had she reassured her that her husband was going to be all right?
Most importantly, I suggested that she tell Sheena that she no longer needed to worry about him—that it was all right for her to eat and drink again.
She told Sheena.
And Sheena began eating again right away.
Over the years, my experiences with animals have taught me that they sometimes try to take our illnesses and suffering from us. It is something many people familiar with animal communication and sensitive animals will recognize, even though it lies outside what conventional medicine can presently explain.
Sheena also taught me something else.
Distance did not seem to matter.
She was in Sweden. I was across the Atlantic Ocean. She was not sitting beside me; I had only her photograph. Yet the information I received concerned something happening inside the body of a person I had never met and whose medical situation I did not know.
Experiences such as this changed the way I understood animals and the depth of their connection with us.
Sometime later, Sheena’s human sent me a beautiful gift all the way from Sweden—a large crystal ornament with a Husky carved inside. It was her way of thanking me for what had happened with Sheena, and a treasured reminder of an experience I would never forget.
Years later, Sheena's story found its way into Secrets of the Milky Way, where Willow witnesses an animal healer communicating with a Husky far across the ocean.
The magical setting is Willow's.
But Sheena was real.
And so was the experience. ♥ 🐾
