I attended an annual animal fundraiser thrown by a friend who owns a pretty nice pet lodge for animal owners with busy lives, including those who enjoy frequent travel sometimes without their pets; and I was specifically looking forward to this event, because I would finally meet a fellow-animal communicator, Joanne, someone I'd heard about in the same circles, but never had the pleasure of meeting.

 

 

I showed up early and was directed by the owner into what looked like her office, a comfortable, spacious room that was practically sound proof, also centrally located with all-glass walls offering a grand panoramic view of the place and all its going-on.

 

As I had said, I was really looking forward to today, because I wasn't the only animal communicator on the bill, which was very uncommon, and sure enough, about a half-hour before the event began, Joanne arrived.

 

As she approached to enter our enclosure for the day, I immediately got up to meet her at the door. She and I shook hands like old friends, but more like kindred spirits, eager to ask the other, if people were coming around to this kind of thing, to which she casually replied, "Oh, Bryan I just got tired of dealing with people's cynicism, so whenever someone asks how I do it, loaded with the usual skepticism, I reply, 'well, you know,... bipidy-bopidy-boo.'"

 

I laughed in amusement as she continued, "...besides I'm moving to Florida to live with my daughter in a month to do animal communication in a warmer climate, meaning both temperature and an open-minded community." She stopped talking and looked around to appreciate the room that had been chosen to accomodate us, and then turned to grab both my hands with delight, "..but I'm glad you're continuing the work in this neck of the woods."

 

That's when I noticed two things: a picture Joanne held clenched in her hand and also the owner unlocking doors to let event goers inside, since it was about time to begin, which is when I asked Joanne, "What's that in your hand?"

 

I noticed her voice dropped and cracked in response, "This is Charley, my horse of twenty years, who just passed away a little over a week ago."

 

 

"I'm so sorry," I said and Joanne thoughtfully received, "Thank you, Bryan."

 

At the moment, the owner was coming to enter and alert that it was time, but I immediately met her at the door, appealing, "Joanne just lost her horse of twenty years. May she and I have a few more moments alone?"

 

 

"Sure, just let me know when you're ready," she said a little puzzled walking back out into the foyer to greet and welcome.

 

Of course, Joanne didn't see this, being lost in her own thoughts, which is when I interupted to say, "Joanne, why don't you let me do for you, what you've done for so many others. Here.  Give me the picture and let's have a seat."

 

Completely caught off-guard she gushed, "You mean to give ME a reading?" passing the photo on to me.

 

 

"Yeah," I said casually, "now, sit here."

 

Like two gradeschool students we each sat in our chairs facing one another touching knee to knee as I gently held on to the photo and closed my eyes to connect with Charley, which is when I began speaking for him.

 

"Thank you for a wonderful Life, Joanne. We were true soulmates. I appreciate your honoring me as the old wise soul who'd listen and communicate a response in kind."

 

I looked up in time to see a tear drop from Joanne's eyes, as I went on describing her final moments on earth: "Joanne, on your death bed, Charley will come for you. He'll be standing right there in the room," I paused to literally point off in the distance, to approximate how near or far, while continuing, "and upon noticing him, you'll utter something your daughters and loved ones at bedside won't understand," which puzzled me at first, until Joanne admitted, "I only spoke to Charley in Apache, a language I learned from native american elders located near my ancestral home/ burial ground, which my daughters hadn't learned unfortunately." 

 

I said, "Oh, now I see," nodding with new understanding 

 

Just then, my disposition turned to great hope as I proclaimed, "And you'll ride him bare back into a vibration where you'll both occupy for an eternity," which is when Joanne affirmed, "I always road him bare back. Never with a saddle." and I opened my eyes to hear her say, "Thank you so much. That was beautiful and so very real. He's really here, isn't he?" she said wiping away tears of joy to refocus, while looking about our enclosure, as if she'd catch a literal glimpse of him with her physical eyes.

 

 

With that, I jumped up to get the pet lodge owner's attention through the glass walls, signaling that Joanne and I were ready to serve.