Would you like to see how I ask questions during a real animal communication session?
(Names of client and animals changed – everything else kept true.)
This one was a rich session – multiple animals, different species, layers of grief woven in alongside everyday life. Exactly the kind of session I love to break down, because it shows how communication works when it isn’t just about one question with one answer.
Why Sarah reached out
Sarah contacted me wanting to check in with two of her animals – Rafferty, who had a long-standing pattern of urinating outside the litter tray, and Bear, her older dog, who’d recently been through significant family change.
In the background were two dogs, Remy and Bea, both of whom had passed. Sarah also wanted to connect with them in spirit, along with Merlin – her parents’ elderly cat whose final chapter had felt complicated and unresolved.
Sarah lives in a very animal-centred home and cares deeply about getting things right for them. Which also meant she carried a lot of self-questioning when things didn’t feel straightforward.
💬 Here were some of Sarah’s questions:
“Is Rafferty happy even with the inappropriate toileting?”
“Do any of them feel the loss of Remy and Bea?”
“Did Bear have a particular bond with Remy?”
“How did Remy and Bea experience their transitions?”
“Why did Merlin’s end feel so unclear and difficult?”
“Is there anything more I could have done?”
These weren’t just curiosity questions. They were the questions of someone who loves deeply and holds herself to account.
What made this session layered:
Rather than moving through each animal in a straight line, I had to:
– Open with the felt sense across all of them before narrowing in
– Hold Rafferty’s toileting issue with real curiosity rather than assuming stress or behaviour
– Follow where grief was sitting – and which animal was carrying it most actively
– Connect with Remy, Bea, and Merlin in spirit when the session naturally opened that space
What I asked – and why:
With Rafferty, rather than going straight to the behaviour, I started much wider:
“How do you feel about your life overall?”
“What emotions do you experience around food, exercise, family, personal space?”
“Is there anything in your body that draws your attention?”
“How do you feel about the other cats – and how do you experience their closeness with you?”
That last question mattered.
As the session unfolded, what emerged wasn’t stress, unhappiness, or a litter tray preference – it was something subtler.
Rafferty is a cat that other animals are drawn to for comfort and regulation. The loving can get intense – almost overstimulating for a cat who absorbs so much emotionally. And after those peaks of pheromone-rich, high-contact interaction, he can be left holding an energetic charge he doesn’t know how to release.
Sometimes we have to go around the houses before we find where something actually lives.
With Bear, I asked:
“What emotion comes up when you think about Remy?”
“Is there something you’d want to carry or hold that was hers?”
“How do you want to be included in how your family remembers her?”
What came back was quiet and specific.
Bear wanted to grieve alongside Sarah, not separately from her. He wasn’t asking for anything elaborate – just to be part of how she thought about Remy. Included in the remembering, not left on the outside of it.
With Remy, Bea, and Merlin in spirit, I asked:
“How did your transition feel from where you were?”
“Was there ease in that shift, or was there something still pulling you?”
“Is there anything you’d want your family to understand about how it happened?”
Each answered differently.
Remy had, in many ways, already been exploring what came next during the months her body had been declining – her spirit wasn’t caught off guard.
Bea, whose ending came faster and with more pain, was clear: the pain had helped her accept it was time. Without it, she said, she wouldn’t have been ready to stop. She’d have kept going because that was who she was.
Merlin’s transition had been harder – not because his care was wrong, but because he was fiercely independent, gave inconsistent signals, and wasn’t ready. The toing and froing in his final weeks wasn’t confusion on Sarah’s family’s part. It was him.
What Sarah took away:
– Confirmation that her animals, across their different personalities, share a deep contentment – even through the periods in life when she couldn’t do everything she wished she could
– A new way of seeing Rafferty’s toileting: not naughtiness, not obvious stress, but an accumulation of relational energy that needs somewhere to go – alongside practical things to explore such as self-selection herbs, observing patterns after high-contact interactions, and shifting the way she emotionally spoke to him about it
– Bear’s invitation to grieve together, and a specific way of doing that – letting him be present when she thinks about Remy, sharing memories with him, including him in how she honours her
– Reassurance about both Remy and Bea’s transitions – that both were, in their own ways, ready
– A kinder understanding of Merlin’s ending, and what it said about who he was
A note on how I work
I didn’t start this session knowing any of what you just read.
I started with an open question and followed what arrived.
Sometimes what animals share fits neatly with what’s been asked. Sometimes it leads somewhere no one expected.
That’s the work.
Not forcing meaning too quickly – but staying with the animal long enough for the deeper pattern to reveal itself.
Would you like to see more sessions broken down like this?
Until the next conversation,
Joanne
Final Thought
When I share these sessions, I’m not just offering a story - I’m inviting you into my process.
The way I receive a client’s questions.
The way I listen for the deeper layers.
And the way I shape a dialogue with the animal that holds both truth and tenderness.
It’s one thing to believe in animal communication. It’s another to practise it with clarity, structure, and emotional sensitivity - especially when the stakes feel high.
If you’re learning this work, I hope this session gives you more than answers. I hope it shows you how careful, grounded, and intuitive our role can be.
I’ve got something special coming in September 2026: a 6-month programme that offers supportive and structured learning to help you feel more confident, clear, and connected in your practice.
✨ Curious? Let me know where you are on your animal communication path - I’d love to hear what’s calling you forward.





It´s always a pleasure to read your texts. Getting an insight on your gentle and yet deep work is fascinating. The keysentence for me this time was: not forcing meaning too quickly. How wonderful is that? In such a fast living time as we have right now, allowing the communication to unfold and also not starting with the issue (which for sure is very relevant for the human client) right away, but taking time to explore the bigger picture.
I would love to read more of your conversations and thank you so much for sharing your experiences and teachings.
Joanne, this really resonated with me. I recently experienced a complex multi-animal situation that reminded me how layered these household dynamics can be.
I found it challenging to stay open and present with all of the relationships and emotions involved while still listening clearly to each individual and not rushing toward a simple interpretation.
Your point about not forcing meaning too quickly, but staying with the animal long enough for a deeper pattern to reveal itself, especially stayed with me. I think that is an important learning for me.
I appreciated your willingness to share the process honestly rather than making it sound simple or linear. As someone still learning how to navigate these situations, I found this very valuable and would love to read more session breakdowns like this. Thank you for writing this.