Elizabeth Anglin - Pet Telepath

I grew up on a small horse farm in Michigan.  When I was very young, I had a slight speech impediment which often gave my older brother and sister a great deal of  delight at my expense.  One evening at dinner time, I tried to tell my family a story about something that happened to me that day, but my speech impediment made everyone at the table giggle.  My “L’s” were “Y’s” at that time, so rather than just continue on with my story, I made my family laugh even more by protesting loudly,  “Yeave me ayone!”  

I rushed from the dinner table out to the horse paddock where I sought sympathy from an elderly Saddlebred mare named Jubilee.  Jubilee was my “babysitter” horse, and I often told her my problems.  This time, however, she was completely unsympathetic.  As I reached up to stroke her nose while I choked back tears over being so cruelly treated by a family that giggled when I talked, she pulled her head up, put her ears back - and bit my hand.

I was shocked.  My mind went blank and my own inner voice was silent a moment.  In that silence I heard another voice, older, wiser, and much firmer than my own.  It was Jubilee saying, 

 “Be grateful for what  you have.  Your situation could be much worse.  You could be a horse and unable to talk at all.”

Much later, in my early twenties, I became involved in consciousness research, first with a college professor who formerly lived as a Zen monk in Japan, and then through the Center for Psychology and Social Change at Harvard University.  Through meditation and guided exercises I had consciousness-sharing experiences with wild animals, but not direct communication with an animal as a separate being.  During consciousness-sharing I experienced what it was like for a wild raven to fly, a whale to swim on migration, and for a hawk to be hungry and hunting.  It wasn't until I learned Reiki in 1994 that I experienced direct telepathic communication with a domestic animal again.

This communication came from Wags, my equine veterinary surgeon boss's aging collie.  My boss had to travel to a racetrack out of town and needed me to feed his animals while he was away.  I arrived to feed lunch that day, and Wags, unlike the other dogs, was completely uninterested in food.  He looked up at me cheerfully through his half-blind eyes, and said "Good!  You are here.  Put your hands on my rump!"  and then turned around, placing his rump under my hands.  Immediately, the Reiki energy began to flow into Wags' rump while he looked back at me happily.  After spending about five minutes with my hands on Wags' rump, I pulled myself away to finish feeding the other animals and return to the clinic.  Wags was upset, and barked at me while exclaiming. "My Rump! My Rump! Put your hands back on my rump!"

Later that day, his owner called in to check how the feeding had gone, and I described what had happened with Wags, with some hesitation.  My boss was known for his extremely limited tolerance for nonsense, and had even been described in a book by another veterinarian as being the kind of boss "who could make you believe hell was located not more than twenty feet away." 

I explained that Wags really seemed to need some attention for his rump, and asked him if he would do me a favor and check him when he got home.  My boss grumbled at me for making the request, "Wags is just old, and he barks all the time.  It was probably nothing."

When I returned to work the next morning I got a phone call at 8:15 am.  It was my boss, still grumbling.  "I'm going to be late coming in today, so I need you to reschedule my first appointment .... and this is all YOUR FAULT."  

"My fault?"  I asked sheepishly. "What did I do?" 

"Wags' RUMP!" he growled, "I was up all night tending to Wags' RUMP!"

 He then explained that when he examined Wags he found a skin infection under his thick collie fur that was so advanced that maggots had begun to grow out of his flesh.  After a long day of working and travelling, he had to rush back to the clinic to pick up antibiotics and salves to help heal and soothe poor Wags' rump. 

An hour later he arrived at the clinic with Polaroid pictures of Wags' shaved and salved rump, along with a graphic shot of one of the offending beings held in a gloved hand with tweezers, along with the dry request, "Make sure my coffee is fully caffienated today."