Sassy, The Buddha Shihtziuh

I remember a couple of shih'ztiuhs in Texas. One of them was already very advanced, and came to me regularly for his next level of empowerment. One day his scruffy little girlfriend decided SHE wanted to try that energy work stuff, and asked me for an attunement, which I gave her. She changed so dramatically, and felt so profoundly good about her spiritual work, that she began bugging me to do the same kind of work for her friend Merlin, a cat. I kept telling her that Merlin would have to ask me himself. Finally one evening, Merlin came to me and asked for an attunement. The whole time I worked over him, his little shihtziuh friend "held space" for him energetically - she stood by, watching everything, focusing all the power of her intention on the procedure, for her friend's benefit.

I left the area not too long after that, and returned the next year. When I walked into the house, my human friends who lived there told me that the little female shihtziuh was out on the porch, and I should come see her - she was "different."

There she was, sitting erect, very dignified and serene, on one of the padded deck chairs - she was gazing out over the Blanco River. I tuned-in with her and she said, "I am going to become a Buddha in this lifetime." She gave me a picture-communication of herself teaching groups of human meditators as they sat in a circle around her - she would be monitoring their meditation by tuning-in with their picture-minds, and she would be giving teachings telepathically.

Jake And Gus

For a number of years I have had a spiritual healing and animal-communication practice which has given me many surprises, as well as great soul satisfaction. Here are stories of two of the many wonderful beings with whom I've had the privilege of communing.

Once when I was doing a communication clinic in a stable, most of the horses who spoke through me were giving advice to their riders about balance and technique, and practicing riding in meditation. A couple of the horses also had emotional difficulties resulting from Mother-loss, having been forcibly weaned, and separated from their dams too young. For them I did a healing procedure known as soul retrieval.

A brown-and-white pinto named Jake said something different from all the others. "I have a dream," were the words Jake sent to my mind. When I spoke these words aloud, the listening humans looked intrigued.Then Jake said, "I'd like for us all to go on a campout together." I spoke it aloud for him, but, since no other horse I'd ever spoken with had said anything like that, I wondered if I'd heardwrong. Jake was apparently satisfied,so I had to believe I had done his thoughts justice. A week later I received a phone call from Jake's human. She told me that the horse-owners had all been so inspired by Jake's dream that they'd found a place to camp out, and planned to trailer all the horses in the barn over there. Did I want to come, she wondered?

I did go out for the afternoon and early evening. They had found a beautiful place for the event: a lovely hilly pasture with many gorgeous old trees and a clear stream running through it; there was a resident herd of cows, and the horses were out of their trailers and all running free. I got to ride Jake bareback with a group of others doing likewise. It was easy to stay on, even bareback, because Jake was sweaty from galloping and dirty from rolling to scratch his back. The ride was magical.The whole event was - well, it was a horse's dream. And it was all because of Jake's vision. When I left the group in the evening, though, I was a little worried. The horses were free all night long, and of course, so were those cows. I wondered if I'd see headlines the next day: "Campers trampled in their tents by galloping herds." The next day, however, I got a phone call from Jake's human telling me how much fun they'd had, and that everyone had gotten home safely, and thanking me again for speaking Jake's dream aloud.

Not all animals are brilliant or visionaries or masters of other sorts. Just as with humankind, there are plenty of animals who are busy being just plain folks. This next story, about a yellow labrador named Gus, is a good illustration:

I once was being interviewed on a tiny pirate radio station broadcasting from someone's garage at midnight in San Marcos, Texas. The show hosts had asked me to communicate telepathically with the San Marcos River. They wanted to know the River's way of perceiving the issues in the local water controversy: how did the River feel about the University's use of water, how was it affecting the springs and the acquifer. When the show host found out I could communicate with dogs, however, he hopped into his pickup and went home to get his yellow lab, Gus.

Animals always know when there's a human who can communicate with them. If they have something to say, they come right up to me. If they want a healing, they make that known. So I wasn't surprised that, when Gus came into the studio he walked over to me and looked me in the eye and spoketelepathically, saying, "I can't do this."

"Do what?" I asked him.

"Talk into a microphone like a human being," said Gus.

When I told the owner what Gus had said, he explained, "Oh - that's because we tried to make him bark into the microphone before."

So I told Gus - out loud , but also using my picture mind - "Gus, you can see and hear that I understand what you tell me. So think about it for a while, and if you decide you have something you'd like to say on the air, then just give me your message and I'll speak it into the microphone for you."

Gus wagged and nodded to me, then went out and did his thing for a while. Finally he returned, and came straight over to me. He said, "I've got it. There's something I want to say." So I signaled the show host and we prepared the listening audience for Gus's revelation, whatever it was to be.

Gus said, "I've got a girlfriend."

"That's it?" I asked - "That's what you want to say? "

Gus looked straight into my eyes: affirmative. That was it. I loved it! I said it over the air for my friend Gus, who nodded at me and wagged, and went off to do more of his thing. Gus's human got a big kick out of that. He said Gus's girlfriend must be the dog down the street, whose owners were apparently giving Gus a generous second breakfast every day. I had to laugh, thinking of all of Guses in this world, dog and human.

Not An Ordinary Cat: BJ - 1981-2000

In 1981 my son Ben brought home a tiny grey kitten which he and his girlfriend, Jenny, had chosen out of a litter of giveaways in a cardboard box in front of the village grocery store. He told me they had named her BJ, for Ben-Jenny; and he promised he would take care of her. Yes, he did take care of her for a couple of days. Soon he and Jenny broke up - but BJ was our family cat, and that was that.
BJ had to be an outdoor kitty, with a cozy spot in the garage for sleeping, because of my husband's allergies. She was definitely one of us, though. She was a natural cat, but never a wild cat. When my youngest started kindergarten, BJ would run out to the front yard to wait with her for the little school bus. Each morning BJ would climb up the ash tree, go out on its lowest limb, and hop onto Corrie's shoulder to sit and purr until the bus arrived. When Corrie boarded the bus, BJ's "people job" was done, and she went off doing her growing-up-kitty jobs of stalking and climbing and pouncing and bathing and....And at a certain point, she got pregnant. We had intended to get her spayed, but the pregnancy and kittens came first.
Our family arrived home from an outing one afternoon and the children spotted BJ's head sticking out of an open drawer in a desk that was stored in the garage. They ran to see - and sure enough, BJ had had her babies and was washing everyone down. The kids counted, and came running out saying, "BJ had six kittens and a head!" Oh, dear. The head. We had to explain that when a kitten is born dead, the mother cat eats it up. Ah, life!
BJ and her kittens were a joy to watch. I remember working in my front flowerbed as the kittens were playing in the sunlight in front of the garage, pouncing and tumbling around together. One of the kittens stalked up to its mother, pouncing on BJ's relaxed belly. That did it! BJ pulled her baby to her firmly and licked its fur backwards until it squalled. Then she calmly groomed it the right way, purring the whole time, and settling it down.
Sadly, we discovered BJ to be a carrier of distemper. Three of her beautiful kittens developed the disease - so confusing and painful for their devoted mother, and for their human family, too. After BJ's three remaining kittens were weaned and all settled happily with their new human families, we did get BJ spayed.
Life went on - kids going through their growing times, parents going through theirs. By the time BJ was twelve, the two oldest children were off at college, and my husband and I were divorced. I was renting out rooms to make ends meet. One of my renters made a plea for BJ to be allowed to become a house cat. So BJ became an indoor-outdoor cat, and that's when her amazing abilities began to make themselves apparent.
I would be sitting at the piano composing music, and BJ would walk past - and I would notice that I had energy for some new song, a song that seemed to have cats in it. I would follow up on the energy, writing the song and singing it. This interested BJ no end. She would then climb up on my lap and purr; and sometimes, if the song was really right-on, she would hook her claws gently into my shirt right over my heart, put her mouth to my mouth, and sing along with me!
It was right around that time that I was accepted into a workshop at Esalen Institute: advanced shamanic training with Michael Harner and Sandra Ingerman. On opening night, as we all introduced ourselves, I listened with intense interest as Penelope Smith told us that she was an animal communicator. She said, "You people - you shamans - all communicate with your Power Animals. Don't you know you can communicate with your own pets?"
As the week went on I made a point of sitting with Penelope at lunch one day. I said, "You're probably going to think I'm crazy, but I think my cat is giving me ideas for songs," and I told her what was happening with BJ.
Penelope responded, "You're not crazy! My husband writes songs with our cockatiel."
After watching Penelope do a mini-session with a dog for our group, I was deeply motivated to open the ability to communicate with animals for myself. I prayed and asked for this, and I practiced with every animal I met. When I got home, BJ was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I said out loud to her, "BJ, I think you might need a soul retrieval."
BJ looked straight into my eyes, and sent me these words: "You finally got it!"
After that, the next day, in fact, BJ joined me in my healing practice. She was, it turned out, what some people call a familiar. She worked with me and my clients for years, living to be nearly twenty. She was a master! I often felt myself to be her pupil. She was the only one of my companion animals whom I allowed free access to my human sessions. She came when Spirit moved her, and she pointed out things I would have missed. She occasionally said things which brought tears to my client - in which case, BJ would hop onto that person's lap to purr and be comforting. When that was done, BJ would leave the room.
When Corrie went off to college, Spirit moved me to Portland, Oregon. I drove from Ohio to Oregon with two dogs and three cats. During that first year there I was completely overwhelmed with the Sacred - God was talking with me, all these saints and avatars, buddhas, the works - were teaching me and giving me empowerments day and night. At the end of that time, Spirit told me that I would have to sell my house, and that my animals would find new homes. I was allowed to keep BJ. It all happened miraculously. The house was sold, the dogs and two of the cats willingly went to their next home, in a school for at-risk teens; and BJ and I moved into a little trailer in the backyard garden of a house and mom-pop printing business in the Rose City area of Portland.
There we found we were in a community of kindred spirits - and soon enough we formed an intentional community. BJ and Marble, the orange-and-white cat belonging to Sid and Marilyn Francis, owners of the property, became good friends. Marble was a philosopher, BJ was a healer, and both were a vital part of the mostly human community.
At a certain point I was called by Spirit to move to Texas. A friend offered to take BJ in, since she was too old to move a long distance again, and I didn't know how many more moves Spirit would require of me. (A lot, it turned out!). Eventually I was called back to Portland, and reunited with BJ, and also with Sid and Marilyn and Marble and the little trailer-home. By then, BJ was deaf. Once when a friend's dog came on BJ by surprise, something that never would have happened had she been able to hear, she was terrified and dashed for the trailer and would not come back out. The dog was actually really gentle, and had no intention of harming BJ; but Marble strode up to it, glared into its eyes and slapped its face. I "heard" Marble say, "You should know better than that! You were an old cat in your last life, and you were terrified of dogs!"
We had another intentional community going by then. We called ourselves Mir Cabaaning, from a word that had been given me in a dream. Our core community group was Sid, Marilyn, BJ, Marble, and I. We had many folks who came in for teachings and feasts and events. It was a beautiful spiritual growth cooperative. At each gathering, the cats were welcome and important. Marble turned out to be a philosophical comedian, with a sense of humor similar to the entity Seth (SETH SPEAKS, by Jane Roberts). BJ sometimes gaves teachings and spiritual healings.
BJ was growing old, so old. She was on arthritis medication. She had told me that she would not need a veterinarian's help in dying, as so many pets do nowadays. Although I was experienced with euthanasia, since people called on me to spiritually assist their pets as the veterinarian euthanized them, it was a relief to know that BJ would die on her own. I realized that time was near when she began refusing any food to which I had added the arthritis medication. Three days before she died, I was surrounded by a group of spirits - my relatives - who told me that they would assist BJ in crossing over when she died.
Three nights later, we were having a community meeting. BJ was lying next to the woodstove on a towel. She dragged herself out into the center of the meeting, and everyone was quiet. She looked deep into my eyes, letting me know she had something to tell the group through me. She/I spoke. One woman burst into tears - and BJ dragged herself over to a basket full of prayer cards, and pointed with her nose to the one I should give to the woman. The meeting went on, and I lost track of BJ. Then I heard a loud "Meow!" from the kitchen. It was BJ, asking me to take her back out to our trailer. Then I knew her time was near.
That night I was wakened by a loud "thump!" and turned on the light to see BJ on the floor where she had fallen, taking her last breath. I burst into tears. Then I thought - "Wait! I have to see - all these relatives - I have to see them helping her." I tuned-in clairvoyantly, and there was BJ's spirit, surrounded by all these human spirits - she was being carried by my adopted children's Korean grandpa. I was in awe, watching them start moving up a road of Light. Then a spirit squirrel scurried across in front of them and BJ's spirit leaped out of Grandpa's arms and gave chase! The squirrel led her to a place where she reconnected with my other pets who had crossed over. Then she went on, to her beloved lion-headed Egyptian goddess, Sekhmet.
That morning was a Portland winter morning - pouring down rain. Sid and Marilyn and I buried BJ with loving ceremony out under the great old apple tree, which was a sort of mother-spirit for our community. Oh, it is so sad to bury a loved one in the cold, wet ground, in the pouring rain.
I wrote a letter about BJ's life and passing, and delivered it to all who had helped her during her last years, as a thank-you, as well as mailing it out to family, and to colleagues who had benefited from BJ's teachings. BJ let me know she would be coming back into physical incarnation, to be my cat on earth again, in twelve years' time. In the meantime, her spirit occasionally shows up when I'm doing a healing, to point out something I've missed, or to give a teaching. You know, I still miss her, though. I still miss her. She was, as she told me once, not an ordinary cat.

Machine-Whisperer 1995

Back in 2005 I was winding up an exploratory visit to Portland, Oregon. I was on my way to the airport in a rental car, and I could not seem to get where I needed to go. On top of that, the car kept making a groaning sound, and I wondered whether it might be on the verge of a breakdown. Then I had a thought: Wait! Maybe I can communicate with this car telepathically, the same as I do with dogs and cats and horses! I also thought, perhaps there is a teaching for me here, and Spirit will not let me get to the airport until I receive the teaching. I'd been through that before. Time to surrender to Higher Wisdom. I then "tuned-in" with the car, and asked if it could tell me what the matter was.
Ohhhhhhh, moaned the car. You don't have any auto accidents in your future, but what if the next person who rents me does? Ohhhhhh!
I was glad to hear that I was accident-free! But I could tell that the car needed some help understanding the process of manifestation. I said, Do you think that you cannot shield yourself from accident-prone drivers?
The car ran well, and we found the correct highway connection, at last! Then - Ohhhhhh! Another groan.
I tuned-in. What's wrong now? I asked.
The car said, But if I do get into an accident, I might be totalled. Ohhhhhhh!
I responded, Are you worried that if you lose your body, that you would die?
The car was apparently thinking about that for a while, because there were no groans, and we found the turnoff to the airport road. Then - Ohhhhhhhhh! The car had apparently realized that losing the body was not the end of life - of the life of the soul. But it sent me a picture of all kinds of spare parts being slapped-together to make a sort-of body for its next incarnation. Ohhhhhhhhh, it moaned again.
I said, Are you worried that you could not manifest the sort of body you really want for your next incarnation?
The energy in the car got suddenly lighter. We were almost to the rental-car return depot, and there were no more moans and groans. Then the God-wisdom teaching I'd been waiting for, came through to me. Of course it had been God all along, building me up to this new understanding by playing the part of the worried car. The car gave me a mental picture of a new car on the assembly line, surrounded by human workers. It said, Just because we machines are born differently than you humans, does not mean that we don't have souls.
I was amazed. Well - of course cars have souls! Another bit of God. Another way of exploring life on earth. Another way of seeing and moving and being. Of course cars have souls.
Later in my development as a communicator and healer, I was to discover that the energy of Reiki healing works just fine on machines; and I would be given teachings and excercises in the development of the healing power of faith by a VCR in San Marcos, Texas; and I would be initiated into the Machine People's Clan by a little CD player in Austin.
The main idea of all communion experiences, no matter what form they take, is to understand that to judge against the personhood of anyone, any being, any thing, is to judge against one's own potential for connecting with God. We have things to learn from the most surprising beings, sometimes, and in very strange ways. All we have to do is be willing to surrender, and to get into the zone with that old Shape-Shifter, Creator.

O Kombucha! - 1994

Years ago I used to travel back and forth between Yellow Springs, Ohio and Lexington, Kentucky as an animal communicator. When in Lexington I'd stay with a friend who lived on a horse farm, and often we'd have gatherings there for spiritual healing and growth. I had conducted one "Council of All Beings" out in the barn already - a gathering of humans, dogs, cats, horses, plants, and various inner-visible beings - angels, power animals, and so forth. We had the second Council scheduled, and human people started to arrive - but it was cold outside, and pouring down rain to boot. We were waiting for word from Spirit about how to conduct our gathering when suddenly I felt a strong pull to my friend's refrigerator. Feeling a pull to the fridge is nothing new for me, but this was a different kind of pull. When I opened the fridge, the energy surrounding this weird-looking thing in a plastic bag was beaming at me so strongly I picked it up. It was a kombucha fungus.
The Kombucha immediately began to communicate through me.* It said, "You don't have to eat me, you know." The Kombucha was referring to a remark I'd made earlier about its appearance - I had said it looked like an alien to me. I hadn't, of course, thought it might be listening to me.
I replied, "I know that." Then I asked it, a little suspiciously perhaps, "What are you doing here on earth, anyway?"
The Kombucha said, "I'm healing the hole that let war in." That melted away any doubts I had about letting a fungus lead the meeting. By then I had realized it was God talking to us anyway, in the form of a fungus. I do not remember what else went on that evening. Healings, new understandings, bonding - all the good things that go with spiritual growth in supportive community. I don't remember the details of the rest of the evening, but I'll never forget those words - "I'm healing the hole that let war in."
Since then I've been involved in various intentional communities. In my heart I carry the vision of the architecture of a community I'd like to live in some day. I see this community built around the ba'qua, the eight-sided form used in FengShui. In one section of that ba'qua I see energy-transforming beings such as Bees and Goats and Kombucha, working with the negative energies naturally generated by humans, to transform them into creative potential, energies to be used for healing and spiritual growth.

I have a sense that this community Kombucha is encouraged to grow quite large, and its tea is a regular drink for humans and other people...but I also see the extra fungus being used as soil amendment and soil healer, as the community recycles its waste to make more and more topsoil of the highest quality.
I, along with Kombucha, wish to do everything possible to "heal the hole that let war in." I'm certain that that includes receiving counsel from fungus on occasion, just as it means sitting in Council with All Beings, and just as it means merging with the energy of Trees in order to do what humans can't do by themselves: make and keep Peace on Earth.

Texas Cat Poet, Syl E. Vester - 1998

Syl E. Vester is a black-and-white cat of immense imagination. I knew him for a short time while staying in San Marcos, Texas. Syl E. would sometimes come in out of the moonlight with his eyes big and round, his tail standing straight up, and his fur all ruffled - the signs of a powerful poetic encounter with the universe. Syl E. would telepath the poems to me, and I would say them in English while Syl E.'s human companion, Sherry, would write them down for posterity.

Here, then, posterity, are the poems of Syl E. Vester, now residing in San Antonio, Texas.

FOUR POEMS

I AM

I'm ready to be lifted from the casket of embodiment.
I sink my teeth and claws into the vision of a bird
and imediately become what I have eaten.
My whole heart is covered with feathers.
In my center the songs of all the birds that ever were
vibrate the core of the Universe.
I am a cat who knows no boundaries.
I pretend.


THE FIRE OF LIFE

When green things dance in the wind, my fur is ruffled
and smells and scents flow in through my nostrils.
I pounce and slink.
I am the Wildness which dances the Tree Dance.
Perhaps a squirrel will run past me.
Perhaps my waiting will result in food.
A tree invites me.
"Scratch my bark," it says. "Rake me, climb me,
peer from my limb with glittering green eyes."
Waiting for a bird gift from the Gods,
I know this one thing:
To be magnificence itself is to be a cat.


FULL MOON

Out from under the Moon I run, tail straight up for little wiggling spirit things
to climb.
My claws shine like sharpened pearls.
I savor the magic, the airiness.
I'm absolutely terrified and delighted.
There is a great ball shining messages for the world
and I have caught its words in my heart.


DEATH IS LIKE THAT

My mind is at a loss.
Maybe I lost it, maybe I gave it away.
So instead my head is filled with something -
it is a waiting.
The right picture will come soon,
to fill my empty head.
In that moment between the emptiness and the fullness,
I take a bath.
Only the cats know the depths of creativity one enters
in the bath.
Death is like that.