Some of you may know that I talk with animals. I believe it's just a form of intuition and everyone can do it, but we sadly have a society that does not support or foster those connections. We grow up closed off believing spoken words, but not listening to our heart’s instincts. I have been able to hear animals since I was little. As a teenager, I was teased for it so I shut it out wanting to be normal and fit in. But in later years, as I found and embraced myself, I started honing those skills as it has really helped me save more animals and honor their wishes.

For me, one of the hardest parts of having and loving animals is knowing when to say goodbye and help them out of their bodies at the end of their lives. It's such a huge responsibility and difficult decision and after twenty-five years of rescue, it never gets any easier. Sometimes people call me and ask me to help them connect with their animal to see if they are ready to go. Sometimes knowing that the animal is ready and at peace to transition, makes the painful decision easier.

This week I was contacted by a couple who had a sick cat named Raji. His symptoms were worsening and the vet offered euthanasia. They called me to help make sure that's what Raji wanted. Usually animals are much less attached to their physical reality than we are, and much less afraid of the other side, so usually when animals are dealing with a terminal prognosis, they are happy to cross over. This is what I expected when I talked to Raji. Much to my surprise, however, when I asked him if we could have permission to walk him home, Raji said “no.” He explained that his home was filled with love and light and he loved his family so much that even one more day with them was worth staying for. He acknowledged that his body was falling apart, but that he didn't want to leave yet. I asked him if he was suffering and he said no, but his parents were. He described his mom and dad as crying, concerned, suffering, and agonizing over him. He asked me to convey to them that he is not suffering. That his life has been privileged and magical, filled with all the things every animal deserves. He said that he had aches and pains but that they were tolerable. Suffering for him was not his condition, but to be plucked from his life any earlier than absolutely necessary.

Raji begged me to ask them to stop crying or treating this like a tragedy. He said over and over again that this was a happy ending to a happy life. He said that he wanted them to stop looking at him with concern, but rather with joy and gratitude for the time they had left to share. Even one more hour was a miracle to be celebrated, not wasted on tears. He asked them to stop talking about his impending death, but rather to snuggle in bed with him, to bask in memories with him, and to celebrate their love together.

This week, I saw Raji's parents in Tennessee. They told me that it was an absolute miracle, but since our talk they have completely shifted their approach to him, and Raji has been purring, eating, snuggling, and so, so happy. They don't know just how long it will last, but were so grateful that they listened to Raji and had this honeymoon together.

Every time I communicate and help people hear their animals, there is always a gift in it for me. Raji's words were so very wise and I'll remember them forever. The energy that we bring to animals, the way we talk about them, the way we approach them, affects them. We need to be so careful not to project our feelings or experiences onto them. What we might think of as suffering, might not be suffering to the animal. What might be cause to leave in our eyes, might be precious, extra time to an animal. What's most important that I learned from Raji is that our experience, thoughts, and desires are not what's important. What is important is what the animal thinks, what they are experiencing, and what they want for their own journey. It was an honor and a privilege to talk with Raji and his words will ring in my head for all time.

Ellie Laks-Weiner
Founder
The Gentle Barn