Why Do Animals Come Into Our Lives?
Earlier this week I had an animal communication session with my dog, Chonkie.
To my surprise, he came through as a Boston Terrier.
I laughed.
After all, Chonkie is a seventy-three-pound pit bull with a broad chest, powerful muscles, and a head that easily rests on the kitchen counter if he's curious about what's for dinner.
Yes, he's black and white like a Boston Terrier, but that's where the similarities end...
...or so I thought.
The more I sat with it, the more I realized the communication couldn't have been more accurate.
Chonkie doesn't know he's a big dog.
Loud noises startle him.
A new grocery bag can stop him in his tracks.
Quick movements make him step backward.
He wants to be as close to me as possible, convinced he's small enough to curl up in my lap.
He's gentle.
Deeply sensitive.
Completely unaware of the incredible strength he carries inside his own body.
In many ways, he still sees himself as that little Boston Terrier.
Recently, Chonkie was diagnosed with a torn cranial cruciate ligament and a herniated disc.
As I watched him move through the world, something quietly became clear.
He isn't reckless.
He simply doesn't realize how big and powerful he is.
He launches himself into life with an open heart, never stopping to consider that his body has limits.
Watching him, I couldn't help but wonder...
How many of us are doing exactly the same thing?
Not because we're careless.
But because we're living from an old story about who we are.
Sometimes we still see ourselves as the frightened child we once were, even though we've become capable adults.
Sometimes we continue carrying old fears long after we've outgrown them.
Sometimes we don't recognize our own strength because we're still living from an identity that no longer fits.
As I looked at Chonkie, I realized he wasn't just showing me who he is.
He was gently reflecting something back to me.
What Chonkie Taught Me
People often ask me why I believe animals come into our lives.
I don't think it's because they're here to fix us.
Or because every behavior hides a secret message.
I think they come into our lives because relationships naturally invite us to see ourselves more clearly.
Animals live honestly.
They don't pretend to be someone they're not.
They don't measure their worth by what they've accomplished.
They simply show up as themselves.
When we pay attention, they often hold up a mirror—not to judge us, but to help us notice something we may have overlooked.
Sometimes they reflect our fears.
Sometimes our strengths.
Sometimes our wounds.
Sometimes our capacity to love more deeply than we imagined.
The lesson isn't found in trying to figure them out.
It's found in allowing the relationship to change us.
Perhaps that's one of the greatest gifts our animal companions offer.
Not answers.
Awareness.
You May Be Wondering...
Do animals really come into our lives for a reason?
I believe they do.
Not because I think every experience has one perfect meaning.
But because every relationship has the potential to shape us.
Sometimes an animal teaches us patience.
Sometimes courage.
Sometimes trust.
Sometimes they simply remind us how to play again.
The lesson is rarely forced.
It unfolds naturally as we share life together.
When we stay curious and open-hearted, our animal companions often become some of our greatest teachers—not because they're trying to teach us, but because they're fully living as themselves.
And in doing so, they quietly invite us to do the same.
May you see the world through the eyes of love, remembering that we are all part of one living, sacred whole.
