Once in a while a client is kind enough to share the intuitive hits from our animal communication session. Holly has done this in great detail. If you are thinking about have an animal communication session with me, you may want to read the hits that Holly shared with me. Thank you Holly! Sandra
Hi again, Sandra:
I wanted to write you a separate email to tell you about what I call “hits,” which means things that you said that you couldn’t have possibly known without making some kind of larger connection, either to my beloved kids, or to a greater source energy. I may forget some things, but I’ll do my best to remember.
Some of these things are very personal…I’m sure you’ll be able to tell that I never, ever repeated some of this to anyone. Except, of course, my pets. They understand me.
I am sure this email will turn out to be a long one, so you may want to read it in stages.
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WHAT YOU SAID: “All of the animals want to come to you. It’s like you’re Snow White, or something.”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: I think I was 13 or 14 the first time someone told me that I look like Snow White. Since then, a couple of people who were employed as “characters” by Disneyland encouraged me to try out for the role of Snow White, as they thought I was that close a match. (I never did try out, though.) I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of a “pillow book,” but it’s a book that is printed on soft, blanket like pages, with fluffy covers, that closes with Velcro. Just two days ago, I received the “pillow book” that I had ordered, and put it on my bed. The book? “Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs.” When I first read through the book, I was surprised to see that there were animals of all kinds in almost every illustration, and indeed, they played a big part in the story: the kind, woodland creatures led Snow White to the Dwarfs’ hut. Often, in fairy tales, animals have an important role to play. For instance, Cinderella’s evil stepmother empties a pot of lentils into the ashes from the fire. She tells Cinderella that if she can pick out all of the lentils in one hours time, she can go to the ball. Friendly birds show up, and help her pick through the ashes, and she succeeds in her task…but of course, the evil stepmother doesn’t let her go anyway - she’s evil!
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WHAT YOU SAID: “I see you with many animals, like a fawn and a rabbit.”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: For awhile now, I’ve wanted to buy a statuette of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals, to watch over my “kids.” I just got this statue last week, and put it up in my room. I don’t follow any particular religion, but I like Francis because he’s kind to animals. Anyway, the statuette is mostly a figure of Francis, and he’s holding a little bird on his hand. Many animals are carved into his robe. But the only animal that is fully articulated in this statue is…yes, a fawn. Also, my mother and I have already selected our burial plots, next to each other. This part of the memorial park grounds borders on a wildlife sanctuary. The man who helped us find what we really wanted let us know that deer come to where our plots are, and graze on the bushes, and bunnies visit all year round, and eat the tasty grass. I felt very good, knowing that even after death; my earthly body would be with the animals.
All kind of weird “coincidences” that really aren’t coincidences happen to me concerning animals all of the time. I’ll tell you the highlights of the last one. When Maüs passed away, I got a manicure, and had the girl put metal letters on four fingers: “M-A-U-S.” I was across town the other day, when I noticed that the “S” was missing. I headed out to my nail place, which was 15 minutes away. When I got there, I found that they had a baby sparrow, very young, which had fallen out of his nest. As they fixed my nail, I took charge: “Do you have a box? We need to put him in a small area to make him feel safe.” (They had a plastic cup.) “Do you have any towels? We need to keep him warm.” And so on. Then, I started calling around town, to see which animal hospitals worked in conjunction with Project Wildlife, and would take the little bird. I found one - which just happened to be the place where I take all of my pets in the event of an emergency. They are a 24- hour emergency place. The weirdest “coincidence” is that the pet place was in La Mesa, by Grossmont Center. That was where I was going in the first place, for lunch. So…I dropped off baby bird, and headed to lunch. But how did he know to be there? I didn’t even know I was going to be there! And how does everyone find me?
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WHAT YOU SAID: This is about Gus. “I see a picture of someone sitting in a chair, and lifting him up to ‘The Banquet Table.’”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: When I had Gus (and Boo,) I only had two ratties. On their birthdays, which we celebrate every six months, I would lay out a huge spread of food on the dining room table…everything I could think of, and more. We had to go out and buy more “little rat bowls” to put all of the treats in. Then, when it was birthday time, I would lift the boys onto the table, where they would be free to roam around and eat whatever they pleased. (Then, we would open presents, and any leftover food would be put in their cage with them. Now that I have five or six rats at a time, we stopped the “Banquet Table,” and celebrate in a more practical way.)
Here is a picture of Gus at a birthday celebration, on “The Banquet Table.” You can see how it compares to your image:
GUS AT THE FEAST:
THE BIRTHDAY FEAST:
WHAT YOU ALSO SAID ABOUT GUS: “He says, ‘The best way to a rat’s heart is through his stomach.’”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: I give all of my rats a “choice” in what they eat. Most of them eat reasonably, and stay at about a pound and a half at most. But every once in awhile, I get what I call a “big fat flat rat,” who eats everything, and eventually looks like a big “puddle of rat” when he waddles around. Gus was one of these. He weighed more than three pounds. He talked a lot about food, and that was exactly what he was like in life…food was always the most important thing. This was a BIG “hit!”
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WHAT YOU SAID: We were talking about Maüs, and the first thing you said (and you said it in a couple of different ways,) was that you saw him “standing on his hind legs, with his front legs outstretched.”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: It took me awhile to figure this one out. On my body, I have several tattoos, all of them rats. Some of them are “any rat,” while others represent specific rats. I have a little one on the back of my neck that represents Vincent Vega, my albino rat who has passed on. The biggest and most artistic of my tattoos is hidden on my upper thigh, where no one ever sees it, and it is of Gus and Boo. I can tell who the rats are just from looking:
It finally dawned upon me that the figure of Maüs standing up with his arms outstretched was referring to a tattoo of “him” on my ankle. It doesn’t look much like him, as far as color goes, but it was always meant to represent him. Here it is:
At first, I wondered to myself what he was “saying” in this pose. Is it, “I didn’t do it?” Maybe it’s something as simple as, “Give me a sweetie.” But I finally found out what he was “saying” the next time I brought a baby rattie home. A baby will live by himself, in a small cage, for a week or two, becoming accustomed to the smell of the other boys, and vice-versa. I take the baby out to play by himself. I noticed that, when I sat next to the baby cage, this ankle was flush with the cage, and the arms of the rat in this tattoo were reaching out to catch the young baby, to let him know that the rats here are friendly! So, yes, that’s Maüs!
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WHAT YOU SAID: “When Maüs died, he sprouted wings, and he took on a crystal body. Do you have anything crystal?”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: Last Christmas, my mother in law gave me a small, crystal angel. It has wings, a halo, and the arms are carrying a heart. For a long time, the angel has been breaking at the waist…the narrowest place. But a couple of days ago, I noticed that it was also broken at the base. Maüs had died less than a week before that, and I really hadn’t looked at that bookshelf where the angel was since he died. You said that it was likely that he “took on” that form, and that even though I was trying to glue the angel together, it was likely it would break again, because Maüs was using that body now. You gave me a good idea of how to picture him.
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WHAT YOU SAID: You asked me if Maüs often got pet with my hands, or enjoyed being touched by my hands.
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: This is really something special. Each night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, he and I would sit on “his” chair - a recliner. Sometimes he would go above my head, and that area was called “up there.” Sometimes, he would go on the flat part of the recliner that pops up when it reclines, and that was called “down there.” But he had a very specific signal he gave me when he wanted to be pet. He snuggled in the area between my left leg and the arm of the chair. “Pet you?” I would ask. “Pet your body?” He sometimes stayed to be pet for as long as an hour; usually it was a half hour to 45 minutes. But yes, he definitely had a “relationship” with my hands. (For some time after he died, I felt as though I was defined as “the girl who doesn’t have Maüs to visit on the chair at night.”) I am so glad he made reference to this!
Here’s a picture of Maüs, that handsome guy:
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WHAT YOU SAID: You may wish to look at the above picture concerning this. When we were talking about Maüs, you said, “I see a shell. Like an abalone shell.” You specifically said the word “abalone.”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: As you can see in the picture above, there is an ~abalone~ shell in the “palatial” cage. My boys use it for taking naps, or storing good food. Maüs is just about ready to settle down and take a nap.
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WHAT YOU SAID: First of all, it’s more “how you said it.” When we started to talk about my dog, Vela, your whole tone of conversation changed. You used a larger vocabulary, and a more “serious” expression came to your voice. That is definitely Vela. She was so regal, so dignified…I would say that she was “almost human,” but that would be an insult, as she easily surpassed most of humanity. We often referred to her as “royalty,” or “the Queen.” I was so very fortunate that she came into my life; she was my best friend for 17 1/2 years, and I could tell her anything…and know that she really understood me. She had a great sense of humor, too.
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WHAT YOU SAID: “I’m getting a picture of a finger. A finger pointing down. The pointer finger? I’m only seeing the finger and the hand.”
WHAT IT MEANS TO ME: Taking my pointer finger, holding it vertically, and then pointing down was my nonverbal way of telling her to “sit.” She learned this by being rewarded with food or bonies. I always thought that it was neat that we would be able to do a commercial…she could sit with no verbal cue. Now, who knew about this? My mother, myself, and Vela. Later, she said that she liked to show me she was a “well mannered” dog. “Well mannered” doesn’t even begin to cover it! Let’s start with “exemplary,” and work our way up from there! How I loved her…if it was important to her to please me, I am sure she now knows that I was VERY pleased.
Here is a picture of the Most Regal, Vela. Yes, she is looking for her Christmas presents. Christmas was her favorite day. That’s Devo, the Italian Greyhound, in the background.
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I want you to know that I was going to believe what you told me, because I had done my research, studied your page, and…that’s it. I believe you. But some people need things like these “hits,” in order to be able to believe the rest of it.
I paid close attention, and I also took notes; that is how I remember so many details. I thought it would be interesting for you to see how many specific things you mentioned, and what they were.
Take good care,
Holly and the “kids”
Animal Communication Blog 
The Zen Master also told me that I had to learn to “spit on the Buddha“. This was horrifying to me. What a terrible idea! I moved into the monastery because I loved the gentle compassion that I thought that Buddhism embraced. The Buddha was the embodiment of perfection, who would want to spit on him? It was only years after I left the monastery that I understood what the Zen master was trying to tell me (and maybe why I never had even a teeny enlightenment experience). 
Casey is an eleven year old Brittany spaniel who’s been in my life since she was just a puppy. She has a sweet and kind disposition. One evening after a wonderful, but very busy day of working a horse show, a home visit and client phone sessions, I found myself lying on the rug near my best friend Casey. As I hugged and loved her, I told her intuitively told how much I missed her presence sleeping on my bed at night. For a very long time she slept on my bed with me and then suddenly about six weeks prior she just quit.