(bryanism on: Animal Communiction --> Lego my ego)
I arrived at my favorite coffee shop noticing a young lady wearing shades and sitting out front with coffee and a lot on her mind. I went inside, came back out, and then sat at a neighboring cafe table with my order, now noticing how distracted and distant she seemed, and so I asked, "How are you?"
She answered, "Oh, just sitting here missing my
horse," looking in her early twenties and also obviously missing a simpler time in life (across the board), while early adulthood had already begun taking its toll.
"Oh. I see," I tried to console, understanding that the horse was now deceased. In continuing I offered, "I'm an animal communicator and recently a medium. Sometimes I can help people deal with that kind of grief...that sense of separation..., although nothing ever really dies -- animals included. There's a place they go where we can reconnect, even while we're still here. I've done it. It's real"
"What do you mean?" she said, scooting her chair in my direction as a signal that I should leave my table and join hers for the rest of our stay; and so I did.
As I began explaining how my belief had changed over time, mainly evidenced by feelings and accurate information I could convey to people while communicating with transitioned energy, the explanation actually turned into a really touching and very affirming reading, which prompted her to jump up from her seat, go to the car, and remove a photo that dangled from her rear view mirror. 
She returned to her seat and offered a glimpse, reaching her arm across the table, as reward for our co-creating such a strong sense of genuine reconnection. I reached across in gratitude for a chance to see the beautiful horse with my own eyes, in her prime.
The young lady pushed her shades higher up on her nose before asking, "Can you tell me her name?"
I can't remember what I thought when she asked that, but it was probably something like, "Really? You need proof?" but in trying to hide my egoic reaction, I responded, "Oh, I don't know about that...I mean,.. maybe if she, the horse, wants to tell me I'll say it to you," quickly changing the topic as she turned away a little disappointed and uncertain if what she asked was appropriate.
I went back to life, death, continuity of consciousness and telepathy being clear communication that knows no barrier and once again, I had her attention and genuine interest, which I appreciated.
We were looking out at the sunset feeling safe, when I got the phonetic urge to pronounce, 
"Bob...Bobbie...Barbara...Barb...Bobbie," 
stammering and stuttering while turning to face her for assistance, not having a clue what or why I said what I said, which is when she interrupted to affirm my impulse,
"Her name was Barbie!"
I wondered in awe after she left, for never having articulated a name by intuitive impulse before then.
That's when I was reminded and then decided, "There's all kinds of sense of separation, including the fear of being right and wrong; and I'll never (again) let that be more important than affirming love's unbreakable bond."