What Is My Animal Companion Trying to Tell Me?

How do I know when an animal is trying to tell me something?

That is such a good question.

My attention immediately goes to the word “tell.”

When we say an animal is trying to tell us something, it sounds like they need to talk.

Can you hear your animal companion?

Some of us can.

But that is certainly not the only way animals “talk” to us.

Animals communicate through their voices, bodies, behaviors, expressions, choices, energy, and changes in their normal patterns.

Sometimes the message is incredibly obvious.

Jubee has a very specific way of letting me know when she needs to poop.

She jumps onto the sofa, sticks her face directly into mine, and barks.

Right in my face.

She is definitely telling me something.

Other times, the message is much more subtle.

Jubee might sit in front of the sink with her head held low and her eyes down.

She doesn’t need words for me to recognize:

I’m sad.

Wyatt takes a different approach.

He stares directly at me and meows as loudly as he possibly can.

Yo, lady. Feed me.

Message received.

When Something Changes

Chonkie loves food.

All food.

So when Chonkie doesn’t eat—not even a bite—I pay attention.

What is he telling me?

I don’t like this food.

I want it warmer.

Colder.

Fresher.

Or, as was recently the case:

My tummy doesn’t feel good and I can’t eat right now.

The important part is that I know Chonkie.

Not eating is unusual for him.

The change itself is communication.

The same is true when Jubee starts holding her butt a little differently and rubbing her bum along the side of the sofa.

Time to check those anal glands.

Nobody said listening to animals was always glamorous.

Or when Smitty stands awkwardly in the pasture.

Once might not mean much.

But when I notice him doing it again and again over several days, I pay attention.

Something is uncomfortable.

His body is communicating with me.

Sometimes They Make Themselves Very Clear

Then there was Cuda.

Cuda peed in my suitcase.

I hate it when you leave, and I don’t know when you’re coming back.

Cuda has also peed on my head.

I’m not kidding.

Apparently the suitcase had not adequately communicated the seriousness of the situation.

I said I DON’T LIKE IT.

And communication isn’t always about something being wrong.

Dexter flops onto the floor, completely relaxed.

His body is loose. He is comfortable. He doesn’t have a care in the world.

He doesn’t need to tell me he feels safe here.

He shows me.

The Wild Ones Speak Too

It isn’t only the animals who share our homes and pastures who communicate with us.

A red-winged blackbird once screamed at me while I was weeding.

I didn’t need words to understand:

Back off, lady. There are babies near here.

The hornets who stung me delivered a similar message with considerably less patience.

Stay away. Don’t mess with our home.

Message received.

And then there is Gigi, my alpaca, shrieking in the pasture as though something absolutely catastrophic has happened.

I go running outside.

What is the emergency?

There is a cat in the pasture.

A CAT.

Oh my God, Mom! There’s a CAT in the pasture!

Gigi does not believe in subtle communication.

Learning Their Language

The more closely I live with animals, the more I realize how much they are communicating all the time.

Sometimes I receive communication intuitively through thoughts, feelings, images, sensations, or simply knowing.

But sometimes I just need to pay attention.

One of the most important things we can learn is what is normal for the individual animal in front of us.

That is why Chonkie refusing food catches my attention.

Why Smitty standing differently makes me watch more closely.

Why Dexter relaxing tells me something too.

We begin to recognize their patterns.

Their preferences.

Their personalities.

Their ways of asking.

Their ways of saying no.

Their ways of showing us when something feels different.

And when a physical or behavioral change could indicate a health concern, listening also means getting our animal companion the appropriate veterinary or professional care they need.

Listening does not mean assuming we always know the answer.

Sometimes it means becoming curious enough to recognize that our animal may be asking us to look more closely.

You May Be Wondering…

How do I know if my animal companion is really trying to tell me something or if I’m just imagining it?

You may not always know immediately.

Start by paying attention.

Notice what is normal for your animal companion and what has changed.

Notice behaviors that repeat.

Notice where your attention keeps being drawn.

And instead of immediately deciding what something means, become curious.

What are you trying to show me?

Sometimes the answer will be obvious.

Sometimes understanding comes with time.

Sometimes you may need the help of a veterinarian, trainer, behavior professional, or another appropriate professional.

And sometimes animal communication can help us explore what our animal companion may be experiencing or wanting us to understand.

Listening is not about interpreting every movement or getting every message perfectly right.

It is about knowing the individual animal in front of you well enough to notice when they are communicating something that matters.

Maybe the question isn’t whether our animals are talking to us.

Maybe the question is whether we’ve learned how to listen.

May you see the world through the eyes of love, remembering that we are all part of one living, sacred whole.