Not a Disney Princess

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I was so naive when I started practicing animal communication.

I thought it would be like a Disney film. I would play the part of a Disney princess like Snow White or Cinderella (both talked to animals).

I expected birds to gently float down out of the sky and land on my hand. We would talk, the birds and I. They would divulge all their secrets, opening up their private world to me as if I had feathers too.

While in my presence, any dog I met with a history of trauma, would suddenly be healed of their past. All pain, fear and memories of suffering would vanish like Jesus healing the blind.

The animals I connected with would feel my innocence and love, how safe I was and magically, we would be BFF’s.

Finally, there was someone who would listen to them.

I would be right up there with St. Francis of Assisi.

So, did this happen?

What do you think?

The first time a dog warned me to stop running my savior complex on her was shortly after I just started talking to animals.

She was always friendly when I would come visit but later would keep her distance and boundaries strong. I wouldn’t pet her. It didn’t feel invited.

She was a “rescue” but had been living as an only dog with a person that adored her for over a year.

One time I came over to visit her person, she greeted me at the door.

All tail wags and smiles.

I was bolder now that I was an animal superhero. I found myself petting her when in the previous visits, I hadn’t.

Shorty into the visit, I gave her “the look” without realizing it.

What look?

The“Oh-you-poor-thing-you’re-an-animal-who-had-an-abusive-past-and-now-that-I’m-an-animal-communicator-I-can-help-you-and-your-life-will-be-a-bunch-of-roses” look.

She started to growl.

I was stumped.

Why was she growling at me when she was just friendly and happy a few minutes ago and nothing really changed?

After I had left, I asked an angel why she felt threatened by me.

I heard, “She doesn’t like that you see animals as victims that need to be saved.”

Bingo.

I realized in that moment a VERY important insight about myself and lesson about animals (which goes for any living form, really).

Animals dislike being treated like victims.

They are repelled by humanity’s neediness, projections and arrogance.

I thought I had overcome my need to save. But it seems I actually transferred it from humans to animals.

(And later the Earth but that is for another blog post).

I projected all three in her direction.

No wonder she was repulsed.

She was right.

Animals don’t need to be saved.

They do need to be respected, honored, cared for, loved and cherished.

Above all, they need to be seen but not saved.

It’s easy to believe animals need to be rescued when you see enough examples of them mistreated and suffering.

But what about the baby elephant you see trapped in a hole struggling to get out?

What about the trillions of abandoned dogs found in run-down urban areas?

Or a litter of kittens discovered behind a dumpster?

Responding in the moment to a situation involving an animal in need is one thing. You can file that under “caring for.”

But living with the conscious or unconscious belief of animals being victims is another thing.

Is the baby elephant trapped in a hole a victim?

Or, is it there to provide an opportunity for someone to connect with a wild animal and express their love for such beautiful creatures?

You find an abandoned kitten behind your recycling.

Obviously, it needs some love and attention.

Is it a victim? Or is it a miracle?

It’s all about perspective and attitude.

Perspective helps you see the greater purpose behind the appearances. The “perfection.”

Attitude consciously empowers that perspective.

The magic of truly seeing someone is one of the most powerful magics of all.

Seeing an animal beyond the appearance of the part, they are playing, means you see their divine essence. You see them as empowered regardless of the situation they’re in.

When we focus on that, whatever story appears to be true on the surface wanes like the moon. The appearance gradually dissolves until it is no longer part of your reality.

Even someone else’s dog.