Читать книгу Heart to Heart - Pea Horsley - Страница 16

I was so intrigued by the thought that I might be able to talk to animals I immediately signed up for a second workshop. During this experience I felt excited and found my communications with animals had a better flow of accuracy. I was able to give the colour of an animal’s bed, where it was positioned and even whom the animal lived with. It was at this second workshop that I discovered my life’s purpose. I know that might sound like a cliché, but it’s true. That is how it happened. It wasn’t a logical decision – I just knew in my heart that I had discovered what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. It felt right.

So then I felt confident enough to concentrate on the reason why I’d started all this in the first place: Morgan. I wanted to understand why he looked sad and so I spent a long time talking to him. He was lying in his bed in my light, homely living-room and I was sitting on the wooden floor in front of him. I began by asking him whether he liked his food.

‘It’s OK,’ he said.

‘And do you feel you receive enough exercise?’ I asked gently, looking into his watery brown eyes.

‘I suppose. It’s a bit boring. I’d like some bones, something to crunch,’ came a downhearted voice that melted my heart and sparked worry lines across my brow. I wondered whether it was me. Maybe he didn’t like me?

‘Do you like me, Morgan?’

‘Yes.’

Then he decided to bite on the duvet in his bed, like a child sucks on a ‘diddy’.

We’d reached the point where I had to ask him: ‘Why are you sad, sweetheart?’

After much patient cajoling, Morgan slowly revealed the background to his feelings. He showed me an image of an old man with a walking stick and I felt guilt – Morgan felt he was letting the old man down. Then there was an image of an old woman sitting in a high-backed armchair with Morgan lying at her feet. She appeared very smiley and gentle, and I felt she had now passed over and was in spirit. Then I heard the words, ‘Look after my husband when I’m gone.’ She was looking at Morgan when she said it. I was hearing these words in my mind, but the voice wasn’t mine, it was older, softer and slower. I could feel the love Morgan felt for the woman and the love she felt for him. They adored one another.

Morgan told me they were his previous owners. As I looked into his eyes, I tried to tune into the old man again and saw an image of him standing in a small galley kitchen. He seemed flustered and unable to cope. He was holding a walking stick, which reminded me of the old men with walking sticks that Morgan would bark at on our walks. As Morgan shared his secret I could sense how confused he was feeling. Tuning back into the image of the man, I got the feeling he’d been taken into care after his wife had died. That must have been why Morgan had been taken to death row.

I’d learned on the workshop that one way to resolve emotional upset between people and animals, and even animals and animals, was to invite them into the same space. I began by imagining a bright safe space with a wooden door, and while I looked into Morgan’s eyes, I invited the spirit of the old lady to enter and take a seat in the high-backed chair I’d created for her.

Once she’d settled, I invited Morgan to enter the space. He walked in, body tense, refusing to look at the old lady, keeping his eyes permanently fixed to the floor. ‘Physical Morgan’ still lay in bed, but ‘energetic Morgan’ came into the safe space. The feelings of guilt and remorse were palatable.

I invited the lady to take over. She turned to face Morgan and told him how much she loved him. This caused him to sink even lower into the floor, as if he wanted the earth to open and swallow him up.

‘He couldn’t take care of himself anymore,’ the lady said to his back. ‘He needed a very special home. He wasn’t able to take you with him, that’s why you were parted.’

Tears started to trickle down my cheeks as I was feeling what Morgan was feeling. He was listening transfixed to what she was saying and had begun to cry.

‘It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong,’ she said.

For the first time, Morgan turned round and looked up at her, a pleading look in his eyes.

She continued, ‘No, love. You didn’t let me down. You did your job brilliantly and I am very proud of you.’

I burst into tears as I felt a huge wave of emotional relief sweep over Morgan. I cried and cried as he let go of the burden he’d been carrying with him.

But the old lady didn’t stop there. ‘I want you to move on now,’ she said. ‘You kept your promise; you looked after him so well. Now you’re with a new family and I want you to look after them. This is your new job: to be with this family.’

In the safe place I’d created, Morgan began to prance joyously around, his mouth smiling wide open. It was as though a weight of responsibility had been removed from his shoulders.

I thanked the lady, then I thanked Morgan for being brave enough to enter in the first place and finally I dissolved the picture and brought my awareness back to the room.

Once I was calmer, I looked into the eyes of my beautiful dog lying in his bed in front of me and said to him, ‘I want you to live with my family now. We want you to be with us and I promise you we will love you, maybe not in the same way as your previous family, but we’ll do our best to love you just as much.’

He visibly relaxed and I thought his eyes began to sparkle.

What was more remarkable was Texas’ behaviour. The very same day, he stopped running away from Morgan. When I asked him why he didn’t appear to be scared of him anymore, he replied simply, ‘He’s decided he’s staying.’ Texas now viewed him as part of the family rather than an outsider. Even my friends could see a difference in Morgan and the way Texas now accepted him.