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The Ghostly Goat & Other Tails

04/04/2011 22:43:00

One of the most delightful occasions that I have had as an animal communicator is the very first time I communicated with some of the many animals that my husband-to-be has shared his life with. Some of them are still living, many of them have passed on to the greener pasture of Daisy Hill Farm.

It is fair to say that when J first met me, he really did not know precisely what he was letting himself in for. In fact, if I tell the whole truth, he had no idea whatsoever. Gradually though, the truth began to ooze out...

The Tale of the Ghostly Goat began on the night that I attended our local spiritualist church. I often attend to feel closer to my loved ones in spirit but also to see how different mediums do their work. Towards the end of the service, I saw J's father (now in spirit) standing before me with a large white animal in front of him. My first impressions were that it was a golden retriever dog but thought that a fraction too big for that. I knew he wanted me to link in with him so I made a mental note to do so when I got home.

When I finally sat down to link in with him, I realised that the large white animal was Sammy, J's old goat who had died approximately six months previously and whom I had known in the latter years of his life. My communication with him was delightful and gave me a tremendous insight into goatness.

Oddly, he did not seem to be the same sort of character as I had believed he was in life although I had only known him as an elderly gentleman. He seemed to be a most sensual creature and it made me wonder about all those myths of Pan, the Goat God! During my communication with an animal, I often become them. I imagine looking out from their eyes and sensing what it is like to be in their body. He took me to his life on J's family farm, before I had known him and shared many experiences with me of that time.

He allowed me to feel the sun on his coat, the delight of looking up to the sunny sky and leafy canopies above, the dance of light and shadow that leaves make on bright days. He showed me that J had tried to get him to wear a blue collar and his friend and life-companion Pepper was to wear a red one. Quite clearly this plan had failed and the goats were having none of it. He had such a sense of humour and both goats obviously delighted in winding their humans up into a frustrated frenzy.

He showed me a broken window in a barn and some sort of machinery with handles, like that of a rotavator with a coat hanging on it. He then showed me the goats standing on the coat on the floor and how a man had got in a rage over finding his coat on the floor being trodden on by goats. He showed me an image of a metal ring set into concrete in the floor with the muddy tracks of a vehicle passing over it. He said that he would not stand on it because he knew there was a "well" under it.

He then explained to me, "J would say that it was just a goat's instinct not to stand on something that was hollow underneath but I knew there was a well underneath."

All these snippets of evidence were corroborated by J as I recounted what I had received. Yes, when they first got the goats who came to them as young adults, they had tried tether them (bad mistake), putting a blue collar on Sammy and a red collar on Pepper but the goats had snapped the chains and managed to wriggle themselves free.

Yes, they were kept in what was called The Stable which had a broken window and yes, there was a rotavator that was kept in the stable upon which the relief milker used to hang his coat. Yes, there was an occasion when he became extremely exasperated having found his coat on the floor, covered in goat excrement! The goats had obviously found this a great source of amusement but interestingly Sammy had not mentioned the poo to me!!

When I relayed the information to J about the ring set in concrete he had to think for a minute and then he said, "Yes, there was a stop-tap under there and the milk tanker used to drive over it everyday to collect the milk."

What is remarkable and a oft-repeated theme in many of these communications with animals, is their reference to reincarnation. Many of my clients have been told by their animal that he/she has been with them before and will go as far as to describe what their human thinks is the previous pet. So when, at the conclusion of this communication with Sammy, he told me that he would like to come back to us again and showed me a picture of a small group of white goat kids (several of them), I was not surprised. This however has yet to occur!

One would think that that was enough for one evening but before long a huge number of J's former animals stepped forward to communicate with him and to give him evidence of their love for him and for the life that they had shared together.

There was a beautiful cow who obviously had a great love for J and who showed me her beautiful coat: cream with gorgeous waves. Yes, J knew exactly who she was. There were two cockerels who showed themselves to me including the colour of their plumage.

All the time that this information was pouring through, J and I were attempting to get ready for bed. I would walk through to the bathroom to brush my teeth and then walk back into the bedroom with more information. Then finally, as I was quite exhausted and J was already in bed, wondering when when it was all going to stop, I said, "Did you have a sort of ducky/goosey-looking animal?"

J, quite clearly not wanting to give too much away and in a strange sort of strangled voice said, "What exactly does it look like?"

In a second, I was given the image in my mind of a white bird the size of a goose but with some flecks of black or grey that to my mind's eye could either have been mud splashes or a few darker feathers mixed in with the mostly white ones. I also noticed that although the bird's body was the size of a goose, it appeared to have short legs more like that of a duck's.

I passed all this information onto J who, in the instant that he received it, had an expression on his face that looked like his world had come crashing down around his ears. He pulled the quilt up over his head and I heard a weak and muffled voice emerge from the pillow, "Not Captain Beaky!"

Indeed it was! With that, Captain Beaky showed me how he had been kept in a pen looking up towards the main farm entrance where he could see the comings and goings of life on the yard. J said that yes, Captain Beaky was a goose with a leg deformity who had to be kept in a separate pen away from the other animals due to the fact that he could not walk well at all. He allowed me to feel his anguish when a male visitor to the farm had stood in front of his pen, saying, "How much do want for him? I'll have him for Christmas dinner!" and Captain Beaky had spent the rest of the day in a state of extreme upset and was so relieved when he saw J returned home in his landrover from T.H. Whites, a local agricultural merchant.

"What?!" I thought. "Where did a thought as precise as that come from?"

Don't worry! I was shocked to hear such precise words as "T.H. Whites" too!

How do I explain how an animal knows information such as this or how even they understand it? The explanation that makes the most sense to me, is that they are listening all the time to our thoughts, the images that we project in our minds and the energy of our intentions. I would go as far as to argue that they engage in this telepathy at all times.

As for J? He has never been the same since...

Sally Pups

04/04/2011 22:33:00

One of the animals that I have found the easiest to communicate with is Sally Pups. Sally is another of J's animals and this delightful collie came to live with me as a relatively elderly lady.

The fact that she is not my dog makes communication easier. So often when attempting to communicate with our own animals, we fall into the trap of thinking that we are making it all up, believing we know so much about them. What is wonderful for me is that Sally has a past that I know very little about. The best part of communicating with Sally, is that she gazes fixedly at me when she is communicating. This is an extremely rewarding experience as it pleases my human sensibilities by following the rules of human social behaviour.

When I first began communicating with animals, I actually found their presence quite a distraction. It was far easier for me to "tune in" to them when they were not there, either by holding a photograph in my hand or having met them previously.

Since the animal communication that I practice is telepathic communication, this is not a problem and makes no difference to the accuracy of the reading. By being away from the animal and sitting in front of the fire with a notebook in my hand, I was not distracted by the scratching or licking or their seemingly ignoring me altogether. I found it odd to be getting information from them whilst they appeared to be busy doing something else.

It was not until I thought about how many autistic people evade eye contact that I made the connection. Having worked with autistic people and those with other so-called learning difficulties, I knew that not getting eye contact does not mean that they are not listening or able to understand you. Having established that eye contact was not a requirement of communication, I was free to proceed without this particular concern. Now, I am so much more aware of an animal's change in mood or body language as I am communicating with them.

That all said, Sally Pups is still a dream to communicate with! She will quite often initiate a conversation with me.

J, my fiance, will say, "Sally's trying to say something."

And sure enough, there she is gazing up at me with beautiful soupy brown eyes. It is quite unlike the hard stare that dogs give humans when they are hoping you are going to drop your biscuit! No, this is a soft gaze, quite delightful and heart-melting.

Much of what Sally talks about are her memories of her life on J's farm. She gives me the information slowly piece by piece in visual pictures. When I have got one piece she will give me another.

The very first picture I received was of herself looking at foaming white stuff in a bucket. I had no idea what the white stuff was but she was having great fun putting her nose in it. To me, it looked like the foam from a washing machine. She would pounce on it and would love to watch as it moved away from her. Her next picture was of her lying down with a mouse between her paws. As I relayed this information to J, he explained that the white foam was milk froth (he had been a dairy farmer) and that Sally always used to be fascinated by it and play in it. As far as the mouse was concerned, he told me, Sally had once been a great mouse catcher and was obviously proudly showing me her catch!

Next, she showed J washing his face in a basin in an outbuilding on the farm, wiping his beard with his hand. She then allowed me to feel her joy as he turned to her and gently flicked water at her to tease her. She obviously thought this was very funny. I asked him whether he had ever done this and he replied that it was almost a daily routine. She then showed me J rubbing her vigorously under the chin with the back of his hand. In the image she was laughing so much, just like a toddler being tickled. It was such a belly laugh! So I tried it. I rubbed her under her chin, just like she had shown me. Nothing. She just turned her head away.

"Oh," I thought. "What was all that about then?"

So I called J downstairs and said, "J, did you ever rub Sally under the chin?"

"Yes, I used to do that." he replied as he plodded over to the kettle to turn it on.

J had only given up the farm a short while before I had met him and was still very sad and down about having lost it.

So I said, "Show me."

He came and bent over Sally and rubbed her under the chin. Well, I have never seen such a change as the one that came over Sally! Before you knew it, she was leaping about doing lambsy-skips (a leap that certain dogs do when they leap up and down with all four paws off the ground) despite her arthritic hip. I had never seen her do this before and I had never seen her so happy. She just couldn't get enough of it! Since that day, I have refined my technique and now I can rub her chin and cause her almost as much merriment as J can.

A Compassionate Heart

04/04/2011 22:27:00

I want to tell you a story about my beautiful horse, Apollo.

He is my blessed colleague in my work as Equine Guided Educator, having carried small autistic children on his back, patiently bending whilst they pull his mane and screech in his ears. He has taught leadership, self-respect and healthy boundaries to troubled teenagers and comforted those with broken hearts.

When we lived in Somerset, not far from the beautiful city of Bath, we used to open our walled garden and orchard, home to our animal family, to any passers-by that might have decided to walk through the village or visit the adjacent church. They were welcome to come in to the garden, to enjoy the view, have a cup of tea or a slice of cake. Many would take the opportunity to scratch a pig (we had special pig-scratching brushes) or stroke a hen.

One late spring day, not long before we were due to close the garden for the day, a lady wandered in with her sister. As she stood there clutching her sister's arm, she told me that her sister had dementia. Her sister seemed so young to be suffering from this dread disease and as she explained this to me, a tear dropped from her sister's eye.

Margaret, as I shallcall her for the purposes of this story, appeared to be in a very far-off world, not speaking, little eye contact and was quite unsure of where the paths were. She was not at all animated and even when we placed a pig-scratching brush in her hand and encouraged her to scratch our enormous pigs, she did not seem engaged at all and appeared to be unaware of where she was. Despite this, her patient and caring sister and led her round the garden and both of us chatted away to her as if she were aware of everything, talking to her about the pigs, the goats, the ducks.

As we made our way through the orchard to the horse paddock beyond, Apollo, my noble thoroughbred was patiently grazing near to the paddock entrance seemingly enjoying the early evening light. With my knowledge of how polite he is and having observed how careful he is with young children and babies, I made the decision to take Margaret and her sister into the paddock.

When Margaret's eyes which had seemed so empty previously, alighted on this chestnut horse whose glorious red coat gleamed in the evening sunshine, she scurried forwards with her hand held outstretched. Before we knew what was happening she was smothering his nose with kisses and despite the ever-present flies, Apollo did not move his muzzle, allowing her to continue the outpouring of her affection.

"Margaret used to be a passionate horsewoman." her sister commented as we stood and watched life sweep once again through her previously expressionless face.

When, standing next to her at Apollo's muzzle, I said, "You love horses, don't you?" she turned, her face alight with the fullness of her smile. Her eyes reached up and gazed into mine, sparkling with the jewels of a life remembered. She spoke for the first time.

"Yes", she said simply, "I love them."

Her sister delved into her handbag to offer me a peppermint and then took one for herself. Casually she placed them back into her bag once again only to find that Margaret had slipped her hand into her handbag and was digging around searching for something.

"Is she trying to find the mints to give one to Apollo?" I asked.

"Oh!" exclaimed her sister, "I had no idea horses liked mints!"

Margaret stood hand outstretched with the white mint placed in the centre of the palm of her hand. Her fingers curled over, her muscles too weak to be able to hold them out straight which is unfortunately the only safe way to hand-feed a horse. Apollo refused the mint. I tried to help her hold her hand out flat but it proved impossible. Still Apollo refused.

"Have you washed your hands in anything strong smelling?" I asked Margaret's sister, curious as to why a horse would REFUSE a peppermint.

"No, I don't think so.." replied her sister.

I took the peppermint and placed it into the palm of my hand and offered it again to Apollo. He took it eagerly. Out came the mints one more time from the bottom of the handbag.

"Let's try again." I offered.

Margaret once again held out her clawed hand. Again Apollo refused.

Dawn broke in my mind and I began to suspect that Apollo might be afraid of hurting her.

Sensing this, I took a risk and said to Apollo, "Come on Apollo, you can take it." Slowly and tentatively, ever afraid of making a mistake, Apollo stretched out his marshmallow lip searching her palm for the mint. All four of her fingers went into his mouth as he used his top lip to drag the mint towards his tongue. Finally he succeeded and he released her soggy fingers from his mouth, totally unscathed and all present. She was delighted!

Buoyed by the success of the mint, my mind incredulous with my old horse's behaviour, I helped Margaret to lead Apollo round and round the paddock. All the time, Margaret's face was full of smiles and her eyes sparkled with joy.

Learning My Trade

04/04/2011 22:18:00

I was and still am a great lover of the natural world and as a child spent many hours in woods and fields trying to get as far away from human civilisation as I could, seeking communion with trees, plants and animals ~ the Great All That Is.

As far as actually communicating with animals was concerned, I cannot say that at that time I was hugely successful. My intense desire to be a tremendous Dr Dolittle seem to do nothing but frighten creatures away. At least I had no success with wild animals. Rabbits did not come out of their burrows to discuss the weather or ask whether I would mind being their friend. That was my hope and was no doubt influenced by such great authors as Beatrix Potter and A A Milne. At that time I had not yet learned my trade.

I am now a seer, having learned the Art of Seership through many years of commitment and with one question written very large upon my heart, "Why can I not see? I should be able to see!" This intense desire lead me to spend hours in meditation; hours of an evening sitting in front of the fire, staring at the flames; more hours than I care to remember sat up in bed first thing in the morning learning my trade.

I did not think of it as a trade at that point but just an intense curiosity which then, as I gradually reaped the rewards of patient effort, led to a tremendous way of being in the world.. a coping mechanism if you will... a way to always bring myself back to centre; of answering inner questions; of resolving life's issues, of restoring equilibrium when circumstances or events had thrown me off centre. What started as 'trying' became easy. And it grew and grew.

I became accustomed to strange events, sightings, sensations until all of these things became the norm. I began to be acutely aware that the energy of our awareness runs throughout our bodies and even that it extended beyond our bodies and that with each different thought a different energy was felt in the body. I had begun to realise that intention, energy and thought were inseparable.

I also became aware that not all the thoughts, emotions and sensations that my body felt or received derived from me. How many times have we all walked into a room and felt that we could cut the atmosphere with a knife or felt an instant knot appear in our stomach as a particular person approaches us? How many have felt instantly drained by a particular person's company or found that it drove us crazy sitting next to a particular work colleague in an open plan office?

I realised that animals communicate like this all the time. They do not say to themselves, "Oh, I am just being silly." They have total trust in their sensibilities and rely on them wholly to survive. We as human animals feel others' emotions, intentions and frequently another's thoughts but so often dismiss what we feel. It is as if we have to dampen down this sensitivity in order that we can live and survive in the modern human world.

It was not always like this. Throughout most of our evolution as humans we have lived acutely aware of these heightened senses. Communion with nature, plant life and the animal kingdom was central to human life. This heightened sensitivity, this 'sixth sense' is still a part of us. It is who we are. Without trust in our sensitivity we would not have survived.

The Importance of Heart

04/04/2011 22:15:00

One thing I have learned when communicating with animals is the absolute necessity of heart. This may seem an obvious statement to those who are less cerebrally challenged than I but I would like to share the following story which I hope you will agree reveals this simple truth. This story is a demonstration of the tremendous connection that is possible between the human animal and animals.

I share my life with two native ponies and one old horse amongst other animals. Now those of you who have ever had dealings with native ponies or who have ever been responsible for their care will understand that it is a responsibility which weighs heavy upon the heart. Native ponies, by virtue of their evolution, are entirely unsuited to lowland pasture and should rightfully be atop a windswept moor above the natural tree-line. Here they would graze upon rough tussocks of poor grass and would be spared the over-lush pasture necessary for profitable cattle-raising.

Unfortunately for me and for most pony owners, my ponies live on rich beef grazing and share their pasture for half of the year with a herd of cattle.

In the spring as the fresh rich grass begins to push through and reaches the height of my lower ankles, I begin to feel nervous. This grass which is delightful for all of us at the first greening of spring is, unfortunately for my ponies, very high in sugar. It is exactly this grass which is the cause of the dreaded laminitis.

Laminitis makes horses' feet so painful that they will often be seen standing in strange postures or spending more time than normal lying down. This flush of spring grass can make ponies so lame that it sometimes becomes necessary for them to be put down: a terrible fate which befell one of my own ponies.

It is for this reason that each spring my ponies have to be contained in the grimly entitled starvation paddock. This paddock is essentially a small area where their grazing is restricted.

My ponies do not think much of this. Neither does my old horse who as herd leader is responsible for taking his herd to the best grazing. A canny old beast, he is adept at knocking down the fencing between the starvation paddock and the rest of the lush ten acre field.

One fine day at the latter part of spring, his cunning plan had indeed come to a successful conclusion. I awoke to the tortuous sight of ponies gamboling without a care in the world amongst fattening cattle.

"Oh Lord!" exclaimed I.
"Whatever you do, don't go into that field." responded the man with whom I share my life. "That bull is spiteful." Once a dairy farmer, this man's sage advice could only be ignored at my peril. He, for one, was taking no chances with the large red bull who had claimed the remaining acreage as his rightful territory.

What to do?

Nothing would persuade those ponies to do my bidding. No laden bucket with juicy carrots, no scent of sweet apple would lure them back in to their small paddock.

That night, tired, exhausted and frantic I went to sit outside my house under the stars. I stilled my mind and centred myself, imagining as I did my horse Apollo and the two ponies standing in front of me. I directed my will and the energy of my thought at these three forms and silently voiced as clearly as I could. “IT IS NOT SAFE! THE PONIES’ FEET WILL BECOME EXTREMELY PAINFUL. THE BULL WILL HURT US (HUMANS). I CANNOT COME AND GET YOU. YOU MUST BE STANDING BY THE FENCE IN THE MORNING OR YOU WILL BE ILL. YOU MUST COME HOME....”
This chastisement went on for many minutes. Exhausted I went to bed and fell asleep.

In the morning I willed a knowing that they would be by the fence waiting patiently for me to arrive. And there they were patiently standing with their hooves hidden by the most beautiful green spring grass!

I wanted to whoop and cheer but knew that I had to keep my composure. I pretended that it was all in a day's work. Opening the gate quietly, I stood inviting them back into the paddock. Not one moved. I began the chastisement again. Through my belly I willed the thoughts, "YOU WILL BE ILL. YOUR HOOVES WILL BECOME REALLY PAINFUL."
I implored with them to come back in but there was no response. Finally, I changed my intention. Softly, gently and full of the love a mother has for her children, I said, "PLEASE COME HOME."

The three of them looked at me with eyes I shall never forget. Charged with the deepest resentment and awash with self-pity their withering looks were shot in my direction as one by one each of them plodded slowly through the gate and back into their tiny paddock of short grass.

Liz's Story

04/04/2011 22:13:00

Liz, an outgoing and striking woman in her middle years with a shock of red hair, came to me hoping to learn “how to feel”. She complained of a sensation of deadness, of numbness, a lack of sensation. Having been adopted at an early age and placed in a home as a young baby, she told me that her adoptive family had been violent and she had constantly been on tenterhooks trying to evade their wrath.

Initially she was reticent to work with the horses saying, “Horses don’t like me. They seem to pick up on my own self-loathing and they are often aggressive toward me.”

We started with some healing work together but soon I felt a strong desire to take her to work with the horses.

“Okay,” she said, “Let’s give it a go!”

She described how awkward she felt as she stood in the round pen, a fenced circle 60ft in diameter. She said she felt uncomfortable in her body, as if she was imposing herself on the horse, wanting to get close to him, wanting to connect with him but all the time presuming that he wasn’t really interested in her. She seemed quite oblivious to the fact that the horse was quite comfortable in her presence and only recoiled from her attentions when they had a needy or desperate quality about them.

At one point in our session she mused, “I would really love it if he would want to just walk alongside me.” Yet the way she expressed this was as if, for her, this was unlikely ever to happen. It was as if it were an impossible childish fantasy that a horse would desire to walk with her without recourse to a head collar or rope.

When I asked her if she would like to begin walking around the round pen to see if he would follow, the horse stood stock still, showing no inclination to follow.

I went on to ask her to focus her attention on herself, to be content within her own being, rather than worry unduly about whether the horse was following her or not. She found this suggestion extremely difficult to carry out. Unable to feel relaxed, she felt self-conscious and awkward in her own being.

In order to encourage her to play, to become like a child, I gave her a dressage whip to hold in her hand. What a mistake!!

As an advocate of natural horsemanship a whip is never used to hit a horse but used as a “wand”. merely as an extension of the horsewoman’s arm, a way of making your body longer like a horse’s and

Suddenly she stood in the middle of the circle and held the whip up in the air and started wiggling it backwards and forwards swiftly, hard enough for it to make a high-pitched whooshing sound. With this, the horse startled and took off in fright careering round and round, eyes white. She seemed unconcerned about the horse’s reaction and did not appear to have any concerns for her own safety despite being in a confined space with a large, powerful and frightened animal. My initial reaction was to believe that it was a huge mistake to hand her a whip and yet observing what began to take shape made me question my assumption and wonder whether something else was at play here.

“Liz!” I cautioned, “Look at the horse! He has a past too and he doesn’t trust you with that whip!” The horse was still white eyed and moving fast when all of a sudden he slowed to a walk and curved his body towards her, walking calmly and directly to stand by her side. She meanwhile had not altered the position of the whip which was still held like a battle-sword challenging the heavens.

Some magic had occurred and not wanting to break the spell, I asked gently, “Liz, what were you thinking just before he walked towards you?”

Liz paused for a moment.

“I was thinking how wrong it is that people hit horses. How awful.” she said.

The horse was now standing at her side with his neck curved protectively about her.

“Maybe begin to walk around the round pen now.” I suggested.

Even as she took her first step, Apollo was at her side, mirroring her steps, with his large hooves. This big, beautiful chestnut gentleman was walking by her side not because he had to but because he wanted to. Liz was overjoyed.

“I feel so lucky!” she declared.

At that moment the two ponies who had been all the while keeping watch just a few feet away from the edge of the round pen, suddenly took off at a delightful gallop.

In my work with horses, I cannot make statements of fact about what I am witnessing but my understanding is that the horse was responding to her authenticity at that moment and to her compassionate thought. He instantly knew that she was a trustworthy soul.

Her reward was that she had been gifted with this divine moment and was witness to the wonderful truth that horses respond to love, that they can feel the shift in awareness when we access that love.

My experience as an Equine Guided Educator is that horses respond the INSTANT we change the energy of our thoughts.

For Liz, she had shared a wonderful moment of communion with another being who was choosing to be with her.

Animal Communication

04/04/2011 22:11:00

I cannot get enough of communicating with animals.
I love it because it challenges my assumptions about them time and time again. I am deeply passionate about increasing people's awareness of animals as intelligent sentient beings. There is nothing less about a dog, a horse, a rabbit. Just as much design has been put into these animals as has been invested in the human form and yet we are so disconnected from the natural world that we can only see our own superiority.

Animals are a huge part of my life. My family and I share our lives with four horses, two pigs, four dogs, four cats, two goats, a tremendous number of guinea pigs, rabbits, ducks and chicken. Communicating with animals has become part of my life, using skills that all humans possess. All of us can develop these skills if we are sufficiently interested and dedicated.

Horses are my respected colleagues in my work as Equine Guided Educator and I am astounded time and time again by their amazing ability to know what is going on inside us. I have seen them treat my clients with the deepest compassion and sensitivity and change their behaviour the instant we change a thought or attitude.

The door to animal communication opened for me as a result of developing my mediumship. The more you listen to animals the more they talk back. It is as if they say, "Finally she gets it!!!"

I have communicated with all sorts of animals: rats, goats, dogs, cats, horses, etc. Each of these communications I have found fascinating. Expect to have a few of your preconceived ideas challenged! I certainly have!

It is my experience that there is a universal language that all beings understand. The way I explain this to my students is to introduce the notion of the "thought before the thought". This is the fraction of time between a thought arising and it becoming verbalised in our minds. For instance, imagine that you are standing on the pavement and suddenly you see a loved one on the other side of the road. Your loved one begins to cross the road to come to meet you. Suddenly you notice a car coming and realise that it is not safe for your loved one to begin to cross. An impulse arises in you before you manage to say "STOP!". The moment in time at which that impulse becomes formed in your belly before it makes its way up to your throat to become verbalised as "STOP!" is the moment in time when an animal will immediately register your signal.

This is how a medium receives information from a spirit contact and how they are able to communicate with those whose native tongue is different to their own.

As an animal communicator, I have often thought about how animals communicate with me in the English Language and so far the best explanation that I have, is that I have a translator in my mind that instantly translates from the thought impulse, the pre-word thought to a word thought.
Of course, animals also communicate to me with sensations that I receive in my body. I am not sure that the animals are always sending these to me on purpose or whether I just pick them up from tuning into the animal's energy body during a communication. Either way, I will feel these sensations in my own body as if they are my own. The only way that I know that they are not, is when I have the thought, "Ah, this is not mine.." and then the sensation disappears.
All beings are able to communicate by telepathy. Our body minds are like mini-radio-stations receiving and relaying signals all the time. Animals are already experts in this field and are just waiting for humans to catch on! Have you ever watched a shoal of fish moving as if they were one organism? We are not as separate as we like to think...

All of us possess the ability to pick up on another's emotions and thoughts and indeed do so throughout our daily lives, though not always consciously. In fact, many people actually find it hard NOT to pick up on another's emotions - how many times have you entered a room and ended up with a knot of tension in your stomach because someone else was tense? Do you find it difficult to shake off another's negativity? You are already using telepathy or empathy!