(bryanism on: Animal Communication, "Come from the Basement")Most people who bring pictures to events where I volunteer as animal communcator have pets who have transitioned, but when I held one particular picture in my hand, the animal felt very much alive and on the earth plane, and so I said to the little girl and mom, who handed it (the picture) to me, "Why this dog is still alive, so...,Where is he?" I was looking around, my eyes darting around the other humans and dogs standing in line behind them.
The mom and daughter glanced grimly at each other and then back at me. The little girl began explaining, "He's at home hiding in the basement. He is a rescue. Why won't he come up and play with me?" (continued in comments)

I gave the little girl back the picture and said, "Well, some pretty sad things happened before you brought him home." I went on telling a few stories that I had censored so that it was fitting for young ears, looking at the mom, occasionally speaking in code, so that she understood the full extent of the emotional damage done.
"That's why he won't come up from the basement, because that is where they kept him, and he was punnished if he came upstairs." And then I sighed and mustered a smile saying, "But there's hope, because I can help."
I closed my eyes and then opened them again, saying, "There! I explained everything to the doggie. Everything's fine now." (Communication via thought is quick and proficient)

The mom, nodded hopefully looking at the daughter with tears, affirming that things were fine. She passed me a five dollar bill and I shoved it into the donation box.
Later into the summer at another animal fundraiser. A little girl ran to the front of the line. "It worked!" she said.
Her mother, several paces behind caught up, explaining, "Honey, you'll have to remind him. He speaks to so many." she laughed, "But not now. Look at the long line of those who are waiting!"
"It's okay, if you're quick about it," I allowed, and so did the others, understanding they were getting a real life testimonial.
The little girl exploded, dying to trigger my memory, "Remember the dog that wouldn't come up from the basement to play with me?"
"Yes!" I said, quite pleased that I actually remembered (intuition helps).
"When we got home, our dog was actually waiting for us at the door!"
Her mom stepped forward and firmly gripped my arm, "Thank You! We really mean it!"
"You're welcome!" I said as they walked away.