I do not know the reason, but I am very interested in having a bigger relationship with animals than humans and plants. I can heal and read all living things and spirits, but the animals seem to occupy a special place with me. Even the spirit of humans and animals looks different to me.
I can always convey the human spirit from living people. They appear in my head and look quite real, but they are different. I think that it is a two-dimensional kind sometimes cloudy. I do not know how to explain it elsewhere. They do not look physically flat, but do not have that quality like living things. For example, unless it is important for them to see these things or to clarify the explanation of the trauma, I rarely see the features of their faces clearly and do not see the details of their clothes.
It may be because I can communicate with animals whether they are alive or not. To communicate with animals, spiritual communication is necessary. It is also probably due to the fact that living or mentally living animals communicate the same way. It is the most likely reason why it is impossible for animal spirits to discern this from the living animals for me. The spirit of animals looks firmly like meat and blood animals, but the human spirit is not. I probably do not think that, among the spiritual contacts of these animals, it is not a living animal except for the habit of causing confusion that it disappears suddenly.
When I lived in California, I was hiking and hunting in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Well, mostly I found a convenient tree on a sunny slope, sat on the trunk and took a nap. I mainly went to these trips. Because I enjoyed enjoying nature outdoors.
In one such trip, I arrived early in the morning, parked my truck, threw my tent and started camping. Then I hiked up to the top of the nearby ridge, hoping to find a strange deer, but instead I found a wonderful sunny tree so I sat for a daydream for a while.
I finally stepped in at noon and then decided to go back to the camp and have lunch. When I started going down the hill I assumed a slow growing Manzanita bush movement and assumed that it was a big blonde color dog about the size and coloring of St. Bernard that I slowly let through the brush I saw something to do. I called it, I stopped it and looked up at me. To my surprise, I found that it is blond and light brown bear bear. He and I both were a little surprised to find each other.
He stood there and saw me, and I was standing there watching him. He never ran away nor came toward me, so I decided to go along my way and see what he does. To my surprise, he fell down about 15 yards behind me and took me to camp. When we approached the camp, I decided that inviting him to share my lunch was not a good idea. About 50 feet from the camp I stopped and turned to him. He also stopped seeing his face shockingly, as if I was expecting to share my camp with me, and perhaps my food. I saw him in front of him and told him he could not enter camp with me, and told him to point out a small wooden stand on my left to leave. He gazed at me for a while, then decided I was not serious, and took a step toward me in a way that was not threatened. I immediately raised my voice and said, "No, get out of here!" He stopped for a while to see me again and began to walk again and I fired on the ground a few feet to the left of him.
This turned out to clearly convey the message clearly as he quickly went back one or two steps, turning to the right, and sliding down toward the tree I instructed before. He never seemed afraid and disappeared confusingly.
As I saw him in the trees as much as possible he heard about walking around the tree and continuing down the hill beyond my camp. I did not fear this, forgot to take lunch, just grabbed the apple and decided to go to another direction to find a fantastic deer that I wanted not to be far.
About an hour later, I made a circle and rolled up on a rock overlooking the camp. Somehow, my camp looked a little different than I remember it. When I approached, the difference was that my tent was torn in half, and when looking inside I noticed that there were five big holes in a beautiful semicircle from the bear's feet by my air mattress . I think he wanted to teach me some better manners when he handled the guest.
That happened about 25 years ago and I was almost forgotten when I was in my room in Colorado at the end of spring. When I saw it I was surprised to see blond hair and light brown bear waving beating down the hill by the house. I myself watched Japanese black bear in Colorado in the area where I live and marveled at its coloration. I could not put it down, but it reminded me of something from long ago.
That road took it through the shadow of the house on the northwest side and the snow patch that remained under my deck. Because I was a little surprised at the sight that I saw right now, if I forget him or showed up at home to visit and someone tripped over the bear, he should not roll under a deck for a nap. I decided to go under the deck
I do not want to hurt the bear, but for the sake of emergency I picked up my robbery and pistol and headed out. As I did I got off the stairs in front of the peering very carefully under the deck. I'm looking for something across the house and watching the open space with a vast grassy growing south towards the south, keeping watching whether he is probably going down the hill and proceeding towards the forest I examined it. I could not find him anywhere. I decided to ascertain the exact path he was following when he got lost sight of him when he went under the deck on the northwest side of the house and if he returned his son in the snow Follow the trajectory.
To my surprise, there were no trucks in the snow except the cotton tail rabbit.
Then, I came up with my experience 25 years ago. It was stopped by to say hello and remind the encounter was apparently the same bear.
This was neither the beginning nor the end of this kind of such experiences and whenever I could not say that it is a psychic animal until it encountered. Looking back on it, I know that when I first encountered this bear for the first time, it may have been a spirit.
I was always unpleasant unless I was a little afraid of the bear. I have never experienced before in the encounter with a bear I met on a camping or fishing trip. It turned out that bears are guardians or totems of the spirit of my animal as Indians call it.
Sometimes the spirits of these animals are here to deliver a message even if you do not understand it soon.
It was summer time and I just went to sleep at night. When something told me to open my eyes I remember sleeping and rolling my side at the edge of the bed with my face on the right.
And what should show up in my magical eye is not a 1 inch from my own nose but a big nose that the eyes, forehead and ears of Rottweiler are closely followed. I must have raised two feet. I am not afraid of Rottweiler but I have two of them and they are always friendly and affectionate.
By the time I recovered the dog was gone, and I was staring at the vacant place by my bed. At first I thought that one of my dogs had come to visit. I knew that a dog is familiar but not mine, so I was not sure. I did not think too much at that time, but this two week visit bothered me. I could not wonder what the opportunity was for the visit. I probably thought it was a warning that someone in my family had a problem, but I could not find anyone with any pain.
About two weeks later, I noticed that the dog was aware of my friend's dog. The dog died about two years ago. Harold and I did not make friends at the moment due to a slight disagreement, but I just called him and told him about his visit from his dog. He asked me when it happened, and I told him about two weeks ago. Then he told me that he had a very bad bout of influenza then at that time and could not get out of bed. He also said he was thinking to call me to see if I could help him. I asked now if I can do something for him, and he said no, and it ended a short conversation. I was terribly sorry that we could not help him and that we had fallen apart during the past year.
I was standing in the kitchen within a week of the conversation. I asked who the spirit is and in the form of a vision of a young woman with light brown hair that told her that she is Harold's daughter, and received the answer soon. I knew that his oldest daughter had died years ago under a tragic situation. He could not manage the outcome of her illness, but he was mentally predictable before her death case and could not do anything to help her He criticized himself.
I was preparing lunch by myself, so I told her to call him as soon as I finished. The immediate answer was "Now GO!" "Or else" was not announced, but it was emphasized. As soon as I said "I'm okay" I stopped what I was doing and called him. I told him that his daughter had just visited me and said that I must come to see him now. This made me agree that I should come and visit him.
After arriving at Harold's house, we went to the cellar where he spent most of his time. We sat down and, after a bit of preliminary chatting, exactly talked about what inspired me to call and how much his daughter was emphasizing about my return home. He admitted that he felt sick due to allergies and other health problems that have plagued for decades. Then he convinced me that he was just diagnosed with prostate cancer. I asked if he would like my help on the matter, he told me what he did, and he called me the morning of the day, but for some reason I did not make a call .
While working on his problem that cancer is an expression of his desire to seek suicide, I was not surprised to learn so much. I told him this after I worked on him, and he acknowledged that he had committed suicide since his daughter 's death and put a gun in his mouth There was no courage to draw a trigger.
He was at a law enforcement agency at the time of his daughter 's death and continued part - time even after that. But his action after her death took a dark turn in that he took the possibility of threatening the many lives he had never had before. It admitted that he acknowledged that they were suicide attempts, but they did not even even get him injured. It was as though someone kept him.
After this conversation, he asked me if I could see his daughter now. I told him he could see his daughter standing on his side with his arms around his shoulder, and that she let him go to her It seemed as if it was doing. That scene soon loved me and filled with a feeling of comfort to Harold. I instantly fixed my impression on one of my love and comfort that my daughter has conveyed. He asked me to explain her, and I was wearing a cream-colored long-sleeved blouse under she wearing a straight dark brown dress without long sleeves with a neck with collar I focused on and responded. He began shedding tears and thanked me for saying that. Then he told me that he also saw her, and what I explained is exactly what he was seeing.
During the next three months I worked with him every week or every two months and by the end of three months he not only has lost prostate cancer but he is no longer in chronic and I suffered from acute allergy. Also his high blood pressure returns to normal, he no longer takes a handful of medicines he has taken twice a day for many years.
Dogs and daughters forced this problem and we have returned to good terms ever since.
Unlike a dog, a cat has the purpose of life, or death about it other than pleasing himself, spending a fun time sacrificing everything and everything around them, whatever they do I do not think so. My wife has many cats for many years. I did not care too much about them, so I say it that way. It was not until the last person died that I fully understood the essence of what a cat is like. They are different from them at least when they are alive, at least in the form of spirits. Live cats tend to be cranky or lazy and self-centered thieves and murderers. But after they overcome them, or at least everything I encountered will be a practical joker.
Libyan terrorist cat (I know, but finally shortened to Doffy), which we last had named Muammar al-Gaddafi, has been against me for 17 years It was antagonistic. Her favorite tactics was hiding under the bed and waiting for you to sit on the bed. Then when you start lifting your foot on the bed, she will grab your foot and ankle with your nails and teeth. Sometimes she draws blood. This did almost every night until she died. Therefore, the descriptor "terrorist" is part of her name.
This brought considerable trials to sleep. Then after I enter the bed, she will wait until I sleep almost, then I will walk across my legs or lie on my feet. She was normal size, but I felt like weighing 50 pounds when I was walking, I think she can increase her weight magically. This really frustrated me, so when she did that, I gave a fierce kick, and she would fly about 6 feet off the edge of the bed and land with a thief.
She also knew that she could not enter kitchen counters and tables. When she caught it rarely did it in front of me because she trembled violently. The game really began when I got a small skillet, which is only a bucket with a heating element and a plastic lid at the bottom. Of course it was impossible to put the lid on the flyer when it was hot or cold as I learned. Since the lid made the smell of used oil worse, the upper part could not be sealed. I do not want flies and moths to enter the oil, so when a paper towel is not in use I put a paper towel on it. Duff looked at the contents of the container and pushed back the paper towel in the direction of about 1/3 to 1/2 so that the foot could penetrate into the oil. Of course, the cats with oil on their feet were not happy cats, shaking their feet while spraying oil across the counter, walking around on the counter as if they had to check it I left the footprints of oiliness. wake up
Naturally she got drunk with this behavior again, but it did not stop the new nightly ritual of the last year of her life. The day before she died, she was caught again and trembled (but she was not so difficult as she was pretty weak). The following morning, she was found my lady lying beneath the chair. I took care of the burial, but I did not think of any terrorist cats any more. That's until the morning the next morning when I got off in the kitchen and noticed that paper towels were pushed back. At the end, assuming that Doff was not aware of it since I did this, I exchanged it and wiped off some oils I noticed at the counter. I got off to the kitchen again to make coffee and when I noticed the paper towel pushed back again, I did not give any further thoughts. I tried to rationalize this by telling myself that it must have moved the air at a stroke, but when I replaced it I also noticed oil drops on the counter and oiliness footprints . As I was not able to clean up yesterday enough, I wiped the entire counter with cloth, soap and water and confirmed that the paper towel was placed correctly on the pot. I did not think that from then ... another morning!
Yes, pushing back the paper towel, put oil droplets on top of the counter so that the oily footprint clearly marks the trail behind the counter. I raised my voice a little and said to the air "OK, you will win." I hoped it would put an end to this scarecrow, but no ... I was welcomed in the same scene to show that I am just a boss and have the last words again . This time I closed my mouth and let me hear the last words. Thankfully, after that, it never occurred again.
Doff bothered me for about a year since she died. It is normal for anyone who visits to jump off the bed, sit down in the chair in the loft bedroom, jump up from the chair, jump up and down the stairs of the tree and hear like a horse did. A cat that she wanted to do in life as well.
One night while I was asleep and my wife reading, the first thing I felt was that Doff was walking across my feet (this happened quite often). I opened my eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of the cat jumping off the bed. I never hit the floor, but I often saw some streaks of thin, thin silver with a black tail. It was obviously not Dove that she was an orange striped cat. It happened once a week. I was planning to move to Arizona in the not too distant future so I did not plan to keep another pet, and I did not want to be detained during this period. But my wife did not listen to my wish as usual, so it was provided by another cat when it was offered from our youngest child.
This cat he named Brandon thought that he was calling me as a maniac playfully as soon as it was a poor name for a cat. . As I was calling Spooky, being similar to Spirit Cat in the area of the tail, I assumed that Spooky was all black with a silver stamp, so I pulled my attention for a while There was not.
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