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Excerpts
Angel Animals: Divine Messengers of
Miracles
By Allen and Linda Anderson
Copyright 2007. All Rights
Reserved.
Contents
Part One:
What Angel Animals Teach About
Relationships
Chapter One:
Discovering Your Spiritual Connection with All
Life
Healing with a Dragonfly -- Kathia Haug Thalmann
"Throwaway" Kids and "Throwaway" Animals Found Each Other -- Linda
Lansdell
The
Dolphins Saved My Life -- Anne Archer
My
Work with the Search and Rescue Man Ranger Oakes as Told to Harry E. Oakes
Jr.
The
Quality of Mercy -- Blanka Rothschild
A
Needy Cat Offered Me a Reason to Live -- Anthony Taylor
Tanja's Secret Doorway to Freedom -- M. E. Martucci,
Ph.D.
Bliss
-- Patricia Hobbs Hendry
Chapter Two:
Members of the Family
Pal, a
Member of the Family -- Peter Lucchese
Misha,
the Good Daddy Cat -- Kristy Walker
The
Family of Miracle Workers -- Sally A. Voelske
Bigfoot Used Her Big Foot to Help Me -- Bill
Hodgson
How a
Cat Helped Me Cope with First-Time Parenthood -- Deb. W.
A
Family with Fluffy Love -- Carol Frysinger
The
Raccoons Adopted Me -- Michael Abbott
How
Joe, the Cat, Got a Couch of His Own -- Janice M. Waddleton
Pepper, a Family Dog -- Sue Cassidy
Ninja
Makes Sure I Eat Breakfast -- Teri Olcott
Chapter Three:
Learning How to Love
Unconditionally
The
Horse of My Dreams Is in My Dreams -- Rachel Farris
A
Parrot Taught Me Her Song -- Ronald L. Harmon
Nubby
and Sunshine -- Harold Klemp
A
Dolphin's Love -- Arielle Ford
Lizard
Love -- Beverly Foster
How My
Dog, Mixa, Crowned Me Queen of the World -- Pia Ronnquist
Four
Paws Reminds Us to Keep the Love Flowing -- Wayne Hudson
Chapter Four:
Being Inspired to Serve
Others
Bishop
Answers a Call for Help -- Lynn Duffey
A Bird
Helped Me Discover the Purpose of My Life -- Judy Fay
McLaughlin
The
Deer Helped Me Win a College Scholarship -- Kurt D. Welch
The
Cat Who Knew How to Let Go of Pain -- Victoria Bullis
A
Sparrow Led Me to Volunteer -- Julie Johnson Olson
Henry,
the Spider, Wove a Web of Creativity for Me -- Bo Wise
A
Bird's Message About the Importance of Mustard Seeds -- Anne
Cederberg
What
Prana Knew About Service to Life -- Linda Anderson
Migan
Show Gretchen How to Be a Leader -- Grechen Youngdahl
Part Two:
What Angel Animals Teach About Handling Life's
Challenges
Chapter Five:
Sailing on the Winds of
Change
Baxter
Retires -- Jane L. Toleno
A Cat
That Love Transformed -- Rona Harding
A Baby
Seal Helped Me See Our Divine Connection -- R. J. McBride
An
Angel Without Wings Restored My Spiritual Sight -- Sally
Rosenthal
My Dog
Taught Me How to Age Gracefully -- Cheryl L. Yochim
Adversity Draws My Cat Family Together -- Annie
Holbrook
Tomo
Takes Charge of Change in His Life -- Robin McBride
Chapter Six:
Living Healthy and Healing
Could
It Be? -- Sharon Kunin
Simba
Takes Away the Pain -- Jane Durst-Pulkys
Kringles's Healing Licks -- Nancy Lucas Hampton
Kitty
Connected Me to the Healing Power of Love -- Karen Jensen, N.D
A
Guinea Pig Gave Me Precious Time with My Dying Father -- Bob
Marshall
The
Dog Who Showed Me What Love Is -- Debbie Dawn
A
Kitty-Prescribed Solution -- Debbie Johnson
A
Rabbit's Cure for Migraine Headaches -- Camille A. Lufkin
Feeling Bad? Consult a Cat -- Kristy Walker
Puppy
Love -- Linda Anderson
Chapter Seven:
Letting Go and Trusting
A
Conversation with the Brokenhearted Horse -- Ilona Goin
Kuro
Crossed the River of Hope -- JoAnn M. Quintos
A
Koala and I Trusted Each Other -- Wayne Hudson
The
Grateful Wasp -- Donald D. Reynolds
A Dog
and Cat Became Our Business Partners -- John Marikos
Dillinger Teaches Me to Trust Again -- Donna M.
Lengyel
Chapter Eight:
Recognizing Life's Mystical
Moments
The
Sea Lion Who Taught Me the Power of Praying Together -- Doreen Virtue,
Ph.D
Guardian Angel Bees -- Janette M. Warren
The
Elephant Learned to Fly -- Linda Anderson
Molly's Miraculous Return -- Jackie Gilson
How a
Stubborn Horse Saved Sam's Life -- Karen Donaldson
Angel
Animals Taught Me Ancient Secrets -- Juan Antonio Santesteban
Eugene
Finds a Home -- Joyce Stoffers
Part Three:
What Angel Animals Teach About Death, Dying, and the
Afterlife
Chapter Nine:
Saying Good-bye in Their Own
Way
Deer
at the Window -- Maxine Wilson
Split
Hearts in the Snow -- Lisa Chewning
Dreaming My Farewell to Springer -- Damaris Miller
Willy
Wouldn't Leave Until I Said Good-bye -- Bradley Hill
A Cat
Let Me Know How Much I Meant to Him -- Eleanor Jane Briest
Angel
Animals Help during Hours of Deepest Grief -- Mary
Grady-Thorne
Chapter Ten:
Going Through Grieving
Joe
the Parrot Remembered Our Friend -- Leah Mobley
A
Brokenhearted Mouse Taught Me about Grieving -- Mary Kate McKenna
The
Quail Offered Hospice -- Christina Louise Dicker
A
Rabbit Showed That We Each Grieve in Our Own Way -- Diane
Robinson
A Wise
Dog Restored My Belief in God -- Geri Hough
Chapter Eleven:
Messages from Heaven
Tux
Bounces a Message to Us -- Stephen Collier
The
Memory of Dennis's Scent -- Dale Judith Exton
JD's
Message from Heaven -- Talana McNeely
Skippy
Sits on My Lap One More Time -- Susan J. Allyn
My Cat
Called Me Back to Life -- Debi Reimann
Our
Beloved Dog Appeared to Reassure Me -- Pam Fine
Rusty's Colt Let Us Know His Mother Could Finally Join Him -- Gwen
Ajar
The
Heavenly Meow -- Melissa Gentile
An
Angel Animal's Dream -- Allen Anderson
Kitty
and Melvin's Message of Hope -- Jan Snyder
Chapter Twelve:
Recognizing Angel Animals Who
Return
Angels
Returning in Disguise -- Beverly Hale Watson
It's
Not Once a Cat, Always a Cat -- Scott Myron Cheshaek
Thank
God, Namo Returned to Us! -- Bob Hayes
The
Mugsie/Feisty Duo Doubled My Pleasure and Fun -- Linda
Anderson
Conclusion:
What Have the Angel Animals Taught
You?
Acknowledgments
Notes
Contributors
About Allen and Linda Anderson
Excerpt from the Introduction to Angel Animals by Allen and Linda
Anderson.
What Is the Nature of Animals?
We
defined angel animals by going back to the Greek derivation for the word angel,
which is angelos and literally means "messenger." Angel animals are messengers.
They assure people that God's love, guidance, and protection are always
near.
Angel
animals can be daily pet companions or animals in nature. They naturally
demonstrate spiritual qualities, such as gratitude, courage, and forgiveness.
They connect each of us to our higher nature; beyond thought and emotion, they
love unconditionally. If you hear the spiritual messages angel animals send, you
will improve your relationships and ability to handle life's challenges, as well
as increase your understanding of the spiritual realms.
To
bring the concept of angel animals into the world, we began to research books
about animals. We found a debate raging that often consumed pages of text.
Authors and scientists expressed concern or offered arguments to prove that
their observations about animals were not merely
anthropomorphic.
In
writing this book, we are not presenting views of animals that only reflect
human behavior, which would be considered anthropomorphism. In the stories we
are sharing, animals use their own type of logic. They strategize. They feel.
They remember, interpret, and make choices.
Skeptics might dismiss the incredible events of these stories as
mere coincidence. Because of the volume of anecdotes and examples, combined with
our own experiences, we have come to accept animals as conscious spiritual
beings with spiritual natures. We believe that rather than viewing life as
humans do, animals have unique perspectives that are as low as a person's
ankles, as high as the sky, and as expansive as eternity.
Not
being theologians, we don't feel the need to present arguments about whether or
not animals have souls, go to heaven, or return after death in miraculous ways.
Some contributors in this book, like us, believe all of these things about
animals are true, and others don't believe much or any of it. Their stories
often raise more questions than they answer.
Just
as humans have a spiritual dimension in addition to mental, emotional, and
physical aspects, so do animals. Animals - rather than being saintly - act as
humans do, from the level of base instinct all the way up the scale to
displaying spiritual virtues. Yet it's remarkable how often animals choose
higher rather than lower paths. We marvel at how many animals are naturally
compassionate and forgiving, instead of clinging to fear, anger, and
mistrust.
We
know, as do many people who live with animals, that animals enrich humans' lives
spiritually. We made a point in this book of presenting possibilities to
consider rather than lecturing about what people should or should not believe.
Even though some churches invite animals to their services (Linda had a funny
moment in Africa with a chicken who regularly attends the worship services),
animals don't belong exclusively to any one religion. Angel animals demonstrate
how to be truly religious by tuning in to the spiritual essence that connects
all life and by acting as messengers of God's love in this
world.
Mystical animal images grace Ice Age caves. From earliest times,
dogs have been companions for people. Of course, cats wait with dignity to be
restored to their rightful pedestals and worshiped as the deities they were in
ancient Egypt. Artists depict humans flying on winged horses. Since the dawn of
civilization, humans have known what many today are rediscovering: When you look
into the eyes of angel animals, you can see their spiritual natures. You see
yourself reflected in their gentle gaze. You see the work of a loving
God.
Excerpt from Angel Animals by Allen and Linda
Anderson.
A
Needy Cat Offered Me a Reason to Live
Anthony Taylor, Ridgecrest, California
When
D.C. came into my life I'd just about reached the bottom of a long trip through
the depths of alcoholism and was on the verge of losing everything I had,
including my family. Those nearest and dearest to me still held on to a spark of
love, but even they didn't want to be with me for more than a few minutes at a
time. My emotional state had deteriorated to the point that I'd already decided
I didn't want to go on living. I was desperately trying to drink myself to
death. Feeling that there was no purpose to my life, I was approaching the time
when I would have nerve enough to take more effective steps to end
it.
One
day, in a stupor, I stumbled to the back door and looked to see what it was like
outside. I spotted a little, skinny kitten in the neighbor's yard. He looked up
at me and somehow knew, without question, that he'd found a cat person. You can
change that to "sucker" if you want, because I've always been a real sucker for
cats. I think that one quick glance across the yard cemented our relationship.
The cat didn't hesitate an instant, didn't even wait to be called, just came
running and jumped over the fence. He bounded up the steps and planted himself
against my leg, as if staking his claim. I didn't know it then, but this cat
would remain pretty close to that leg for the next fifteen
years.
For a
few weeks, neither of us acknowledged that he'd become my cat. He was supposed
to belong to our neighbors. They probably thought the kitten still belonged to
them, but I already had his heart and unflagging loyalty. When I met D.C., we
were both rejects on our way to being booted out. We were to form a very special
kinship.
It was
really something to see D.C. come running from under the neighbor's house when
I'd bang my screen door. The sound alerted him that his new buddy was up and
around and the food dish would shortly be brimming with goodies. He also knew
he'd get lots of patting and rubbing before being allowed to sleep in a nice
soft bed instead of on the dirt under a mobile home.
When I
first met the little orange kitten, it seemed as if he could never get enough to
eat. His face was always down in the food dish, and every time he came up for
air his chin was dirty, because he really burrowed in. He wasn't my cat then, so
I didn't give him a name right away. Instead, I called him Dirty-Chin, Little
Old Cat. That was quite a mouthful and eventually my daughters suggested it
would be easier to just name him D.C., short for Dirty-Chin. After we completed
the process of stealing D.C. a little more each day from our neighbors, who
moved away without taking him with them, we put "D.C." on his medical records,
and that officially became his name.
D.C.
wasn't afraid of me at all and after a good meal he'd follow me back into my
bedroom where I spent more and more time in my own foggy world of misery and
despair. He didn't seem to mind the smell of unwashed human or spilled beer and
bourbon. In fact, he'd jump up on my chest and thoroughly clean my beard with
his tongue, going at the task with a purpose. In those moments, I felt a strong
bond growing and knew that of all the cats I'd loved, this one was going to be
very important to me.
Once
D.C. was missing for eight long days. I knew he wouldn't voluntarily leave and
expected the worst. I was one very miserable person without my pal. Scouring the
neighborhood, I desperately feared finding his lifeless body. He eventually
showed up, tired and very dirty. He acted as if he'd been out for a casual
stroll, but his paws told a different story. The pads on his feet were almost
worn off, indicating that his journey home had been a long one. Apparently,
someone had taken him away, but my buddy managed to find his way home. The
hungry little fellow really buried his chin in the food dish this
time.
My
sickness progressed to the point that I finally decided to take my own life.
Just about the time I was preparing to do the deed, D.C. came in and said, "Cut
out whatever you're doing and come feed me." You might be skeptical that the cat
was actually talking to me. If so, you just don't know how strong the bond was
between us. Or you don't know drunks very well. D.C. and I talked to each other
a lot.
I
stopped what I was doing and went into the kitchen to feed him. I might have
been planning to end it all, but I had my priorities straight. When this cat was
hungry, he had to be fed. Somehow, D.C. had sidetracked me from my mission long
enough for me to realize two things. First, I wasn't in any condition to make
such a serious decision as ending my life. And second, at least one of God's
creatures might miss me if I wasn't around.
I
began to think that maybe there was a purpose for my life, even if it was just
to feed that little orange cat.
My
alcoholism worsened until I finally got sick enough to call for help. I went
into an alcohol rehabilitation treatment center. There, I came to realize that
D.C. had come to me when we needed each other. He'd needed me to open a door and
take him in. I needed him to open a heart and let me in.
For
reasons I don't understand I couldn't hear the humans who had tried to help me.
But I heard D.C. loudly and clearly. Why he was able to stir the remaining spark
of humanity in me is a mystery. If I wanted to have him back, I knew that I must
successfully complete my treatment. I had to live.
With a
new purpose, I finished the program and have been sober ever
since.
Old
age and past injuries finally brought the little cat down. D.C. had arthritis,
which caused bone spurs to develop so that walking was very painful. He couldn't
see much anymore, and although we still called him our guard cat, he'd quit
climbing to the top of the car to do his tour of duty. He'd settled for sitting
on the back stoop and watching for intruders. He no longer went with me when I
walked the few yards down to my mother's house, where he had a special place on
his very own footstool. When I returned from those visits, he couldn't bound up
the street to meet me because he didn't recognize me until I was close. And he
simply no longer bounded.
D.C.
still demanded his place on my lap even though the pain of getting up and down
must have been terrible. I'd try to talk him out of it, telling him that he
could stay beside my feet, but he'd have no part of it. Then he would scratch my
knee and look at me with pleading eyes until I lifted him up. He'd cry out, and
when the pain was exceptionally severe, as an automatic reflex, he'd bite me.
D.C. would apologize for the unintentional bite by licking my chin until it
nearly bled. He didn't need to apologize. I knew the end was near and I even
cherished his bites.
Maybe
it had just been my imagination all those years when I swear the cat talked to
me, because when I really needed him to speak, he didn't. He'd sit on my lap and
stare into my eyes. I desperately wanted him to tell me it was okay to do what I
felt must be done. I hope I heard him correctly, because I couldn't stand to see
the pain in his eyes anymore, and we knew we had to end his suffering with
euthanasia.
I
relied on my Alcoholic's Anonymous twelve-step program. I prayed to God to show
me what to do and give me the strength to do it. Somehow, I made the decision,
but I couldn't take that long, last trip to the veterinarian's office. My wife
took care of the awful job. I'll always be grateful to her for making such a
sacrifice.
I have
no doubt that D.C. saved my life. He gave me something to live for when I didn't
think I had anything. Because of those extra years, I developed a real
friendship with my wife, even though I'd nearly driven her out of her wits.
Because of D.C., I lived to know and desperately love my wonderful
grandchildren.
Today,
I have completed a successful career. I've turned into a much better person than
I was before D.C. and I met. I could write a whole book about the wonderful
times D.C. and I shared and the things I gained because of
him.
Because D.C. gave me a reason to live, I had to write this story to
celebrate his life. Having his name in print for others to see acknowledges that
D.C. was Somebody with a capital S. Because he existed, I lived to sit at a
keyboard and write about my pal. About how he made a human being out of me.
About how I tried to make one out of him.
I
think we each came pretty close.
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