They Can't Tell You Something Is Wrong But They Will Absolutely Show You

Animals cannot lie.

They cannot perform fine when they are not fine. They cannot swallow their feelings, put on a brave face and get on with their day. They just absorb whatever is in the energy field around them and carry it in their bodies. Faithfully, without complaint and with an honesty that is, frankly, both extraordinary and occasionally extremely inconvenient.

I work with animals as well as people. And I want to tell you about four of them today because between them they cover just about every way an animal can tell you something is wrong in the most creative and inconvenient way possible. One of them is mine. And that one involves a running shoe and a protest which I will get to.

Buttons is a dog who made a very big move. Her family relocated from Niagara Falls, Ontario to Vancouver, British Columbia which is 4,320 kilometres, or approximately 2,700 miles for those of you who prefer miles, across multiple states and provinces, two weeks of driving, the entire contents of a home loaded into a few trucks, and the particular chaos of arriving somewhere that smells like absolutely nothing you have ever known.

Buttons had no idea what was happening. Nobody explained that one day the familiar home, familiar smells, familiar everything will change in a matter of days. Then two weeks in a moving truck through most of Northern USA including Chicago, Nebraska, Salt Lake City, Seattle and finally Vancouver, British Columbia. Everything was different and it made no sense to the poor pup.

Her human sibling drove her, and she had not seen her human parents for almost a month as they flew ahead to organise their new home.

Buttons used to go to doggy day care three days out of the week and that is a lot for a dog. She was familiar with all the other dogs she played with and had built up relationships with them.

I knew her human parents and we were chatting about the move as you do, on WhatsApp and Sara mentioned that Buttons looked sad and not her usual self. At first she thought it was the sad puppy eyes because she wanted treats but this went on for a few weeks and that is not normal for this girl. I got her permission to work with her directly after our long overdue conversation.

I worked on Buttons directly, clearing the stress and energetic impact of that enormous journey her body had been holding onto.

Their home was finally settled and three weeks later, Sara sent me a video of her running around and back to her normal self.

Queenie is a magnificent black show jumping horse who won medals, filled trophies and was, by every measure, destined for greatness.

Her rider was Natasha, the owners' daughter, who had been at Queenie's side since the day she was born. They grew up together, trained together and won together.

And then Nat got sick. Stage four leukaemia, out of nowhere, and was gone in weeks. Until the very end she visited Queenie every day, carried when she could no longer walk or brought in a wheelchair when that was all she had left.

The day of the funeral, they brought Nat's open casket to visit Queenie one last time.

After that, Queenie stopped eating, stopped drinking water and started biting. Nobody could get near her except her human mum.

I reached out to the family to pay my respects when I heard about Nat, and of course when I heard about Queenie, I asked permission to work with her. What I found was a horse carrying grief so deep it had shut her down completely and it took a couple of days to clear. It took almost six months before she was fully herself again.

This story deserves its own blog. And it is getting one. Watch this space.

Kajal is my cat. She is six years old, deeply unimpressed by most things, and has opinions she will share with you whether you asked or not, usually around 3am when she thinks the whole house is her forest to run wild in.

In January, my son moved back to Canada after being in England for a year. He had been living with my mum and myself and then he was gone. Kajal, who adored him, did not understand where he went, she just knew he was not there anymore and his smell was fading and she did not like it one little bit.

She started finding things, his hoodie, T-shirt, a jacket he had left behind and random items that smelled like him, which she would locate with the precision of a sniffer dog on a mission, drag to wherever she had decided was her spot, and either sleep on or curl around with the intensity of someone guarding the crown jewels.

Then she found the running shoe.

I had tucked his runners under the bed. It was out of the way and whenever I was going to be in Ontario next, I would throw them into his suitcase (YES, there is still a whole suitcase in the shed) and deliver all his stuff.

Kajal, apparently, has a nose that would embarrass most search and rescue dogs. She managed to nudge one shoe and claimed it and when I tried to gently retrieve it, she hissed, attempted to remove my hand from my wrist, and made it very clear that the shoe was hers now and I should reconsider my life choices.

And then, just to make her feelings on the matter completely unambiguous, she started pooping everywhere. Looking me straight in the eyes and pooping right there!

Not in the litter tray but any place I was going to be in. My office definitely served her best as her personal litter tray.

Kajal was grieving, in the way cats grieve, which is with zero subtlety and a complete disregard for the soft furnishings.

So, every couple of weeks I clear her blocks. She finds his scent, the grief activates, I clear it. She settles, uses the tray like a civilised individual, goes back to norm. Then she finds the next thing that smells like him and we start again.

I should pack away all his things I know, I know but she finds comfort in them and honestly I find a little comfort in that too. So, for now we have reached a compromise. I clear the blocks and she keeps the shoe and nobody poops on the carpet.

We are, both of us, doing our best.

Buttons, Queenie and Kajal. Three completely different situations. Three animals doing the only thing animals can do when something is wrong, which is make it impossible for you to ignore.

A cross-country move with no explanation. A grief so profound it stopped a magnificent horse in her tracks. A person who just vanished and left a smell and a silence behind.

Animals feel all of it. They cannot sit you down and have the conversation. They cannot send you a strongly worded text. They just show you, usually in the most inconvenient way available to them.

If your pet is struggling in ways the vet cannot fully explain, have a look at what is happening in your own energy and in the energy of your home. Because nine times out of ten, what is affecting them is connected to what is affecting you.

And it can be cleared. I do it for clients all the time. I do it for Kajal every two weeks. Nobody is too far gone, not the people and not the animals.

You have two ways to work with me. One to one whenever something comes up. Or the full twelve weeks in the Freedom Life Blueprint 90 Day Reset starting 3rd June 2026.

Kajal would love for you to join. She is currently sitting on the running shoe and has asked me to pass the message as she thinks it's a fabulous idea.