Before you begin reading this article, I’m going to ask you to willingly suspend your disbelief.
You may not believe in psychics or the ability to “telepathically” communicate with animals, living or dead — but you’ll enjoy this article a lot more if you just go with it!
Earlier today I had a phone session with an animal communicator, Patricia Schaller, with whom I’ve spoken many times. I met her years ago, when I hired her to read at a “psychic pets” party. I found her honest, compassionate and not at all freaky.
Here’s how I know she’s the real deal… (from today’s session).
Tamar: Can we look at Chico? He’s a living dog.
Patricia: [silent for a few moments] Is he a small dog, black with a little brown? Long legs? Very young?
Tamar: Yes, he’s a 1-year-old miniature pinscher. [Chico is a new foster of mine — someone left him on my porch, so I know nothing about his background] Can you ask him where he came from?
Patricia: [laughs] He said, “O Dios mio!” [silent for a few more moments] His English isn’t very good. [silent again] He lived with a family, and then he got lost. He had to eat garbage for a long time and was very hungry. I told him that he will never have to go hungry again. He doesn’t want to go back to his previous family because he loves you so much. I asked him if he wanted to live with you, and he said, “Oh! Si! I love her. If I could stay here, yes.”
Tamar: Can you tell him that he can live here until we find him someone he loves even more than me?
Patricia: “Not possible!” I explained that he would find a family where he could have everything he wants and more. “Okay, let’s look.”
Tamar: Is he happy here?
Patricia: “Is very good. I give you big kiss.”
Okay, even if you don’t believe in animal communicators, you have to admit that it’s darned interesting that she named Chico’s breed, age, size and coloring. Given that, did I learn anything?
Sure! I learned he speaks Spanglish, is good with children (we’ll test this) and is very funny. I love his accent, and it’s good to know how happy he is here — not that I couldn’t figure that out on my own, but it was still nice to hear. I also found it interesting that he’s somewhat bilingual. We’ll have to work on his English, though.
We covered a lot of ground over the rest of the conversation, which lasted just over an hour.
Among other things, I found out that the reason my ancient foster pit bull Yoda isn’t eating is not because he is ready to pass on, which was what I thought based on other behaviors, but because his sense of smell has grown very weak, probably because of allergies.
She suggested I pour melted butter over his food and shake Parmesan cheese on it. Yoda, who has refused to eat his last four meals, LOVED it.
Although I’d been offering him the same mixture of cooked and raw chicken with brown rice and broth for the last few meals, he gobbled it down when I followed Patricia’s advice. I’m also giving him allergy medication.
My original question to her? “What is Yoda’s favorite food?”
Her initial response? “Nothing tastes good anymore.”
The rest followed from there, with no further input from me.
Patricia told me that he’d knocked her over with the force of his love and gratitude. His last words were, “I have never known anyone like her before. I love her so much — and I really, really love my bed.”
As far as I’m concerned, $30 was well worth learning how much my big baby loves me!