People often feel dismayed or guilty when they have inadvertently participated in an animal’s death. Once people tap into their native ability to communicate with animals telepathically, they discover that animals may have very different perspectives on what occurred. People often get jolted and bumped forward in their spiritual evolution when they listen to the mind-blowing perspectives of animals.
Here are a few short stories from the archive of the Journal of Interspecies Telepathic Communication—Species Link, Issue 13, October 1993
"CASUALTIES" OF SPRING by Rachel Bertrand
I often wonder why birds fly so low when they have all the heavens to spread their wings. Why do little critters leave their bodies on the shoulders of the road? In these times I really do need a shoulder to cry on. If there is a universal animal network, why do so many of them not make it across the roads?
Spring brings on an awakening of both entering and leaving this physical world. It seems to be a time of rebirth, rebalancing, and passing on to a different level, where beings change bodies to start anew.
I feel sad and angry when animals use my car as the key to open the door to the spirit world. One bird helped me understand it better. He explained that he had chosen me to do it and that he was now free. I must admit that being human makes it hard to accept physical death, especially when you are part of it. But like the theme song from MASH says: "Suicide is painless; it brings on many changes, and I can take or leave it if I please..."
I often pray when driving and imagine myself in a white corridor of light so that no living thing can cross my path. I ask animals to stay off the roads, for I do not want to be responsible for their passing on to the spirit world. I ask them to spare me the pain and the sadness that I feel when they are suffering or abused.
All I aspire to do in this world is to find my way, to fulfill my destiny, which is becoming more and more clear to me—to work with and for animals, to teach humans to respect and understand all living beings, to know about life in every dimension, and to enjoy peaceful living.
To all beings in the universe: may you live many wonderful lives and have a beautiful journey towards the final Light where we shall all meet at the end of time and the beginning of eternity.
NATURE'S ORDER by Mary M. Gill
While driving, I saw a turtle dove on the road, obviously injured. Full of good intent and concern, I retrieved the bird and brought him home, not concerned by his protest. I was uncertain I could help him; his wing hung limp at his side. I felt at least he could die in peace and not on the side of the road.
I placed him in a shoe box near a window in the bedroom. Quite by surprise, I was struck by the wildness and fierce nature of this being. Not at all what I expected from a turtle dove. He certainly wanted no involvement with this kindness I had imposed on him. Not letting this stop me, I continued to tend to him, giving him water, food, comfort, and protection from the elements. If this dove could roar and snarl, he could not have related his displeasure of captivity with more defiance. The elements I protected him from were his home. All of nature, weather, predators, and yes, the mechanics of man were part of his element.
In a feeble attempt to reconcile my ignorance, I released him from the need to remain if he wished to die. During the afternoon, a large flock of turtle doves assembled in the yard. I accepted this as a sign of gathering to assist their own in his process of departing. Later that day, the dove died.
I was stuck with the dilemma of what to do with the body. Tossing the remains in the trash did not seem proper, and burying the bird was not feasible at this time of year. I placed the bird in a shoe box, to decide later what to do.
My husband returned home before me to find the remains of the dove scattered about the house. Sophia, our cat, took matters into her own paws and disposed of the bird in her own manner. It was unconventional, certainly not planned, but nature demonstrated the ability to take care of its own. Perhaps this dove had returned to nature on his own terms—by nature's plan.
Our good intentions, desire to assist, or dramatizing the life and death process can interfere with an order in nature that continues with or without our help. This may not be the case in every circumstance involving an injured, wild animal. It was the lesson I interpreted from this experience. I am humbled and somewhat bemused by this course of events and very thankful for the experience.
