Healing, Intuition, and Animals

I don't know why I'm writing this, but it came to mind, one of those intuitive things...

Once, at church, we were in a prayer group and this woman who was a doctor was there. She had been extremely ill, and no one knew what it was, but her white blood cell count was dangerously low and all the usual stuff had been ruled out. She was very sick. So we heard all the updates, and one day, we were praying, and I said, because somehow I knew, she was going to be completely "healed" or whatever or "cured" and the results would be in the next batch of tests.

And then it happened. The next time she went in, everything was normal and nothing came up after that. Her results were totally fine after months of illness. I didn't usually say things like that, but I somehow knew it that time.

This may also sound strange, but for my son's benefit, since it's about animals...I'm not going to say all animals love me and that I'm a horse whisperer or anything, but once I rescued a wild raccoon and took it to the nearby vet who was afraid of it. She backed off and said it could have rabies. She was nervous and trying to force it into a box and it was scared. I got mad, because she was treating it like it had no feelings, and she was a VET. I said, angrily to her, "Stop it! You're scaring the raccoon." So I started talking to the raccoon, and without doing anything else, of its own accord, it calmed down and walked into the cage, and then the vet said she could try to help it. It was a baby raccoon and I just talked to it like it was a little child, saying, in a soft and higher, soothing voice, "Hi there little raccoon, Oh, it's okay...Don't be afraid. Will you go into this box so we can help you?" etc. The vet just looked at me in bewilderment when the raccoon followed my instructions.

I probably shouldn't have left it with her, but it was injured.

I guess the only other strange thing, involves a bee. Which is hilarious, but I remember my best friend Monica and I were in high school at the time, and we were in my bedroom and this huge bee was flipping out against the window, buzzing, and hitting itself, over and over and very loudly and we were trying to talk. I suddenly, spontaneously, without knowing what I was doing ahead of time, I broke in the conversation, turned to the bee, and said in a commanding voice, to the bee: "Bee! Be STILL!" and on cue it quit immediately. Monica's head never turned so fast. She looked at the bee, which was quiet and not moving, and then looked at me and said, "That was weird." The bee continued to be quiet until we finished talking, and then I opened the window and then let it out. She kept saying, "How did you do that? It was like that bee listened to you."

It was sort of weird. I haven't done it since, but when I did do it, I hadn't thought about it first, and I don't talk to insects and animals as if I have power to command them or anything. But it was interesting.

The only other thing that would happen sometimes, which wasn't frequent, but it did happen with some regularity, was that when I was singing, birds would come closer to the window and sometimes a whole flock, and chirp along with me. I would stop, and they'd stop, and sometimes fly away. Then I'd start up again, and they'd sing too, sometimes very excitedly. Now and then I just had birds get very close and cock their heads and seem to be listening. When I was younger, I liked to think I was a fucking Cinderella or something, or Snow White, with the animals gathering around me. Our family dogs were not so excited to hear me sing, and I don't know if it was because I was old hat to them or because they have a different hearing system. They often got up, if I was singing in the livingroom, and would retire to the bedroom farthest away. I used to sing sometimes 3 hours a day, especially in high school. I have a picture in my mind of the way our dogs looked when I started to sing--annoyed, and they'd get up, and sculk away, looking at me with a sideways glance, and then find a dark place under the bed or in the quietest corner of the house. They never sang along with me. I thought they'd at least howl sometimes, but no. They beat a hasty retreat.

I guess, about the animal thing, it may run in the family a little bit. My grandmother's grandmother, on my mother's side, was, I think, Scottish?, and she was the one I think with red hair, and everyone in the town would take injured animals to her and they would get well. She was sort of a country vet of sorts. No medical training or anything, but just had a feel for animals. And then my grandmother and mother raised and bred Shelties and I grew up around cats, dogs, birds, fish and frogs, and horses. I especially liked cats when I was a little girl, and my first pet was a guinea pig called "Squiggy".

Other things...I've written in the past about a boyfriend who thought I had some kind of ESP or something (Robin Bechtold did), but I can't remember anyone else noting anything different except maybe Mike Tancer. Once, I was in the car with Mike driving around Portland trying to find a parking space and we were driving for almost a half hour and there were no spots. I told him I was sometimes intuitive and that I would bet him if I prayed, then I would know where a spot was. He acted turned off, and I'm sure he was, at the idea, and then I made a very quick silent prayer and said, "Turn down that road, right over there." He turned, and there were about 4-5 empty spaces and we pulled in. The first empty spots of the night. He never said anything about that, but he did call me up and act like he was weirded out, after I talked to him at length about the movie "Groundhog Day" one night, after I told him it might be one of my favorite movies, and then the very next day, The Oregonian, or maybe it was The New York Times, ran a huge full page article about the movie "Groundhog Day" and its significance. So Mike called me up and thought it was so bizarre. I thought it was coincidence, but he seemed to think it was more. He had never heard of the movie before I mentioned it, so maybe that was why it stood out to him.