Two months ago, I wouldn’t have been comfortable talking with an Animal Communicator, and now I look forward to the phone ringing early Friday mornings, sitting with a mug of tea, a pen and paper, when Jeannie Lindheim calls from Vermont.
We talk for a few minutes. She is always warm, cheerful, direct. She asks me which animal I want to speak with, and then she sets herself and opens a channel. Last Friday we communicated with Lenore. As always, Jeannie grasps what I want and need, often before I do, and connects to the spirit of the animal quickly. Lenore’s was a fun communication. Lenore does not have problems or issues, yet I have learned to take this dog very seriously over time. She is a remarkable animal, a true working dog, and she has changed my life in may direct and powerful ways.
Lenore – though Jeannie – said she connected with me right away when I met her as a puppy and knew she would come home with me and enter my life. Oh yeah, she said, oh yeah, this is the one. “I knew he needed peace and calm and warmth. This was my work. I just went and did it, I didn’t think about it or get excited about it. It was my purpose. I knew I wanted to be with him.” Jeannie said she didn’t intellectually grasp the concept of the Love Dog, but Lenore, she said, was an unusually grounded animal, very connected to the earth, to the notion of peace, affection and warmth.
She saw right away, said Jeannie, that I was needy and alone. She saw that Izzy didn’t know how to live in a house. She saw that Rose and Frieda mistrusted and feared one another, and were challenging one another for dominance among the dogs. She went to work on all of these things. She showed me her great heart and connected with my loneliness, and she began to heal me and show me how pure love could be, how much I wanted it, reminding me what it was and how it felt.
She came between Rose and Frieda repeatedly, challenging them to ease up, be calm, learn how to play, be easier. She showed Izzy how to eat from a bowl and sit and lie down. She showed Frieda how relate to other animals, and accept their presence. She knows to stay away from Simon, not because she fears him, but because she respects his discomfort with dogs.
“I am smart!,” she told Jeannie, asserting her intelligence and sensitivity. But, she said, she did not want a complicated life. She knew her job. She did her job. Love is not work for her, she said. “It’s her job,” said Jeannie, her voice rising. She will work hard as she gets older to do this work even better, she said This was a beautiful idea to me, that this is her work, and her impact on the farm, on my life and on the animals has been profound. Now I see it more clearly.
This communication continued to open me up to the power of this dog to heal, and to provoke warmth and laughter. In me, in others.