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Photo of Willie by Diane Joy Schmidt.

People whose household includes more than one animal know that when one dies, the other, or others, frequently mourn.

Diane had two dogs, Teddy and Willie. Teddy was dying, and Diane wanted me to check in on Willie. As usual, I sat at my computer and looked at a photo she had sent of Willie. I felt our connection rise in my awareness and greeted him. This is how the session went:

As soon as I say hello, I see and hear that Willie is feeling extremely nervous. He is really scared at what is happening to Teddy. He sees his leader faltering and feels powerless.

I see my beloved Yellow Lab, Rosie, who passed over in 2015 and who often comes into my animal sessions, come into the scene. She is very motherly. She approaches him carefully, looking him in the eye and lying down so that she is lying sort of perpendicular to his body. She looks with intent at his abdomen, on the left side of his body. She sends a warm red light to a spot just below his rib cage and it expands in his body to a warm orange/gold light; this is his solar plexus, the place where he would feel fear or confidence. The energy she sends into him strengthens his own feeling of safety, and he relaxes. I see him do the downward dog pose, stretching and yawning.

“Yes,” he says, “That feels better. Thank you.” He turns and licks her cheek. He says, "I feel a growing darkness in the space where Teddy and I are one. Teddy is there but he is quiet both verbally and energetically. As if he is not there except in form. I don’t know where he has gone.”

I tell him that Teddy is dying and that soon, though I don’t know how long it will take, he will not be there in form. I tell him that he will be able to connect with Teddy, possibly more effectively than he can now, when that happens.

He seems worried again, and asks, “Will I be all alone then?” It feels as if he is imagining being alone like being in a huge, empty warehouse, all alone.

“I’ll tell Diane that this thought makes you nervous. Maybe she can do something for you that will help when Teddy dies,” I tell him.

“Teddy, Teddy, I miss Teddy,” he mourns.

Diane recently wrote that this session propelled her to search for another dog for Willie after Teddy passed on. She said, "A few months later, a friend who knew we were looking spotted a dog who looked just like Teddy, a Collie-Shepherd-who-knows-what, up for adoption at the local shelter. She texted me a photo. What a surprise! Rushing over there, the license plate of the car ahead of us happened to read, BARK. Obviously, Teddy was helping out. A very good-natured dog was there waiting to greet us. Chewie, his given name--and he does eat anything in sight--is now Willie's Best Friend Forever."

I usually don't know the rest of the story when I communicate with an animal, and learning this happy news filled my heart.

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