“LOOK into my eyes.”

So much for an open mind. The Animal Communicator pulls back the curtain to allow Olive and I to enter the tiny makeshift “reading room.” A small round table draped with fabric of some kind, upon which sits a large white crystal with pink highlights and a large round candle. As Olive frantically checks out every square inch of the room (normally serving as storage space) with her nose, the Animal Communicator (hereafter known simply as “The AC”) says “I’m getting hunting. Does this dog hunt?” I swear I can hear Olive guffaw. “Well, the breed is a hunting breed,” I say, “But I don’t take her hunting for prey.” Strike One I think to myself. She obviously knows about the breed. “Olive tells me she likes to play with you when you come home from work,” says The AC. “I actually work from home,” I reply “and am with her almost 24 hours a day.” Strike two. Now I’m wondering what else I might have spent my $29 on. “I’m seeing Olive in a jeep, like she may have served in the military in a previous life.” Did Olive just snort with derision? I almost hear the words “Why, because she is German?” rat-tat-tat out of my mouth. Now I feel like the world’s biggest sucker and wonder if I can get through the rest of this session without laughing out loud. “She says she’s very happy and wants to thank you for taking such good care of her.” Ok, I’ll take that. “And she loves going to the dog park. She feels very free there.” Strike three. I ask The AC if Olive knows about Idgy, my previous dog. “No, I’m not getting anything. But Idgy wants you to know that she has not left this world; she has stayed behind to be your Guardian. And she wants you to know that she thanks you for taking such good care of her, better care than anyone else would have given her.” And I swear The AC has tears in her eyes. Now this takes me off guard. Because as Idgy began to deteriorate near the end of her life, losing control of her bladder and bowels, losing her senses one by one, and wasting away from 70 to 35 pounds, I did everything I could to make her comfortable, never for one moment resenting the Herculean effort it took. And when she clamped her mouth shut one morning refusing to eat, I knew it was her way of saying she’d had enough. And I was there beside her when her soul left this world. It would be no other way. She deserved that. So, that got to me. And when The AC emphatically stated “And you two, (meaning Olive and me) are joined at the hip.” She said this with complete certainty as though a giant, bright, shining physical manifestation of our bond had just appeared before her. I thought, “Well, she got that right too.” Our session is over. I pay at the register, while Olive obsesses herself with the next dog and owner waiting to be fleeced. “I hope you said whatever you wanted to say to me Olive because this little bonding experience cost us about six bully sticks.”