What if your animal has been waiting, not for you to find the right strategy or the right expert, but simply for you to stop, drop in, and listen?
Most people arrive at their first animal communication session carrying a mixture of hope, curiosity, and uncertainty. They have questions they’ve been holding for a while. Practical ones
“why does my dog shake in the car?”
”Is my horse in pain?”
“Why has my cat’s behaviour changed?”
And underneath all of those, a deeper one: “are we really connected in the way I feel we are?”
The answer, in every session I’ve ever held, is always yes. But let me walk you through exactly what a session looks and feels like from the very beginning, to the moment you see your animal through an entirely new lens.
It begins with stillness and the animal leads the conversation.
I don’t start a session by asking questions or following an agenda. I start by dropping into my body, becoming still, and simply being with the animal’s energy. I’m 100% led by them. Some animals come through immediately, enthusiastic, almost impatient, brimming with things they want to share. Others take a little longer. They might be naturally more cautious, or they need to be gently invited in through talking about their favourite things first.
What I never experience is confusion. Animals always understand what’s happening. How they enter the space, tentatively, joyfully, with a certain gravitas….already tells me a great deal about who they are. That is information in itself.
How the information comes through
I’m strongly clairvoyant, so I receive a great deal through imagery. It can play out like a short film, or arrive as a single vivid snapshot. But it’s not only visual. I’ll often feel physical sensations in my own body, a tightness in the chest, nausea in the stomach, a discomfort in a certain part of my body. I receive emotions, words, and sometimes smells or tastes. Every animal communicates a little differently, and part of my role is simply to tune into their particular channel.
Think of it like tuning into a radio station. This is you animal companion’s station, their frequency. My job is to receive what’s broadcasting, unedited, unfiltered, exactly as it comes.
Sometimes a song will come through. Sometimes a colour or a smell so specific that when I describe it, the person on the other end goes quiet, because they know exactly what I’m talking about. This is why I always record sessions because so much comes through that you need to go back and listen again. When you’re this immersed, you need to be fully present, not trying to remember everything.
What it’s like from the animal’s perspective
Animals are not passive in a session. They are full participants. And in my experience, they are always, without a single exception, relieved to be listened to. I have never met an animal that doesn’t want to be heard. It’s simply a matter of finding what they want to talk about, and giving them the time and space to come through in their own way.
Once they do, the depth and honesty of what they share is extraordinary. They don’t hold back. They don’t edit themselves. They come from a place of complete love, complete presence, and a freedom from judgement that is genuinely humbling. And because they are a different species, experiencing the world through different senses, a different relationship with time and nature, what they share is often profoundly illuminating for us.
As I explore in this post about Darcy and the scarf, animals don’t attach stories to their experiences the way we do. They feel things fully, and then they let them move through. There is so much we can learn from that.
A real session: Orla the Goldie and car sickness
Orla’s mum came to her very first animal communication session with questions about Orla’s recurring vomiting and her anxiety in the car. What unfolded over the next hour was one of those sessions I’ll always remember, not because anything dramatic happened, but because of how quietly and precisely Orla communicated exactly what she needed.
Before Orla’s mum had said a word, Orla had already given me two songs: Queen’s You’re My Best Friend and a Beach Boys track. She called herself a “flutter-by.” Playful, a bit silly, the kind of soul who lights up every room. Orla’s mum laughed in recognition. “Orla goes to the pub every Saturday night and spends the whole evening trying to catch strangers’ eyes until someone pets her.”
A real session: Orla the Goldie and car sickness
When we moved to the vomiting, Orla took me straight to food. I offered her different options, kibble, raw meat, lightly cooked, and the kibble brought an immediate feeling of nausea and something missing. Not illness. Just a body quietly saying: this isn’t nourishing me. She was drawn to white meats, lightly cooked, and showed a strong desire for variety and choice.
She also brought me to water. Her kidneys looked small in my vision, and I got a sense she was seeking moisture from fresh food that dry kibble simply couldn’t provide. When I mentioned this, Orla’s mum said she’d noticed Orla always drinking from puddles after rain, always seeking out the big thick blades of grass on walks. “That’s barley grass,” I told her. “She’s self-medicating.” Orla’s mum went quiet. “That’s exactly the patch she goes to. I always wondered why.”
For the car, Orla gave me a physical feeling of containment, a faster heartbeat, a sense of being too big for the space, a slight panic. Not carsickness exactly, but a body that wasn’t grounded enough to feel settled. We talked through practical things: a hammock-style sling for more support, a window cracked for fresh air, ginger hydrosol to smell and drink, and sweet orange oil which Orla specifically requested, and which is a natural digestive support.
At the end of the session, Orla’s mum said: “I think I’ve been communicating with her all along. I just didn’t realise that’s what it was.”
A few weeks later, I received this message:
“She’s not vomited once since we changed her food to a fresh food diet! Thank-you!”
How a session is structured
There is a loose shape to a session: you bring your questions, I put them to the animal, and we explore together. But what I’ve learned over years of doing this work is that the animal always knows what needs to be heard. Even when we arrive with specific concerns, they will often take us somewhere unexpected and it’s always exactly right. I’ve stopped being surprised by that.
I work entirely remotely. Distance is completely irrelevant, because we’re working with energy, frequency, and vibration and those have no geographic boundary. This isn’t a new concept. Telepathic communication between species is ancient. As I write about in The skill our animals are waiting for us to remember, this is less something we need to learn and more something we need to stop drowning out. We all have this capacity. We’ve simply been taught not to trust it.
Your role and what makes a session land
I am the bridge between you and your animal. That means honesty matters enormously, both the animal’s (which is always absolute) and yours. I create a space with no judgement, no agenda, and no pressure for you to do anything with what’s shared. It is entirely your time to explore life from your animal’s perspective.
Sometimes sessions are funny. Sometimes they’re moving. Sometimes what comes through completely reframes something you’ve been worried about, because the thing you were concerned about looks entirely different from your animal’s point of view. Animals don’t share difficult things from a place of judgement. They share them with love, and with a freedom that is quite breathtaking when you experience it.
I’ve yet to meet an animal that doesn’t love being listened to. Even the act of being heard, just that, can shift something profound between an animal and the person who loves them.
What I want to leave you with
My deepest wish for every session is that you see your animal through a new lens. That you feel more connected. That you understand, truly understand, that there is always communication happening between you, even in the silences. You are never walking alone. Your animal is always giving you honest, loving feedback, and they are always walking with you.
They have access to perspectives and wisdom that we, as humans, can’t always reach. And they are waiting, patiently, joyfully, honestly, for you to create the space to hear them.
Whether your animal is here with you now, or has crossed into spirit, that connection does not end. The conversation is always available.
Sessions are held remotely – wherever you are in the world. Your animal doesn’t need to be present. All you need to bring is an open heart and your questions.
