PSYCHIC PET STORIES > Page 1, 2
Makes the Transfer
On December 30, 2000, at approximately 9:45 p.m., we returned from the Emergency Pet Hospital where we had brought our dog, Corky. Corky had collapsed in our kitchen at approximately 9:00 p.m. and could not walk. After an examination, the veterinarian said that Corky had a nervous system disorder, that his rear left leg was paralyzed and, at his age of 16, it would not get better. It would be in his best interest, the vet said, if we put him to sleep. With great sadness, we agreed to do this. We were told that they would administer a lethal injection within 15 to 20 minutes and that he would not suffer.
When we returned home, I turned on my PowerMac G4 Cube to search for photos of Corky. I opened my application UltraFind and conducted a search. I was actually looking for a particular photo, but couldn't remember the name I had given it. When typing in the search box, I typed in "Corky3," but I actually meant to type in "Corky" as I wanted to do a general search of all photos of Corky. So, I backspaced and deleted the number "3" and proceeded with the search.
|What seemed very odd to me is that the voice was very deep, yet quite clear, very unlike the "voices" that are installed on my computer.|
As soon as Ultrafind provided me with a list of documents with the name "Corky" in it, an alert message came on saying, "Transfer of information complete." Now, normally alert messages do not concern me, but I had never heard this type of alert message before and I was not in the process of transferring any information. I was not connected to the Internet. In addition, I did not have "sound manager" or "speech" extensions turned on in my system folder. I do not know how such a spoken alert message could have happened. What seemed very odd to me is that the voice was very deep, yet quite clear, very unlike the "voices" that are installed on my computer. I have repeated what I had done to see if this "alert message" would come on again, but I have not been able to generate such an alert message. And by the way, the photo that I was looking for was actually titled "Corky3." (Perhaps my subconscious knew that, but it was quite interesting to me anyway.)
My partner told me that it was probably a God-thing. As Corky was scheduled to be put to sleep at approximately 10:15, perhaps we were being assured by the statement "Transfer of information complete" that Corky was already in Heaven!
It sounds crazy and I may be interpreting something that happened in a way that will ease the pain and sadness of losing Corky, but I can't get it out of my mind that this strange voice that I had never heard before on my computer came through so crystal clear and so unlike computer generated "voices" which often sound mechanical. The sound I heard was like a real human voice. - Barbara L.
I have had three guide dogs, and they have all been attuned to my moods. If I am depressed, they seem to be; and if I am happy, they will reflect that, too.
My first guide dog moved with me to Memphis, Tennessee. We didn't get back home to Nashville very often. Once, I remember, it was three years since we had been there. Yet every time we traveled back to Memphis, my dog would sleep until we were almost there. Then she'd wake up when we got near home! Also, she remembered that we used to live in Nashville, and when we'd go downtown, she'd always still stop at some of the places we used to go when we lived there! I found lots of old friends that way. This never ceased to amaze me how she could do that! - Phyllis S.
Sense of Life and Death
When I divorced my husband, I got an apartment alone with my cat, Bo. He always met me at the door when I came home from work, but that isn't the strange part.
I decided to move across country, and to save money I stayed with friends for two months before leaving. They told me that when it was time for me to come home, Bo would sit in the front window and look for me, then run to check out the back door since I came in one way or the other. It's real odd because I never got off work at the same time every day - it always varied by two to five hours! But Bo always knew and waited for my return!
This last July, Bo died suddenly. The three days before he died, he wanted to be held or just to sit in my lap. He was never a lap cat, so this was odd behavior for him. My heart was broken when he left, but in a way his behavior prior to dying tells me that he knew his time had come and he was trying to comfort me. If I'd only known what was going to happen, like he did, I would have held on to him for dear life! - T.
Saw the Ghost
This incident occurred during my junior year of high school in 1972. During a particularly hot and muggy July evening, my parents, sister and I were seated in the living room watching TV. The house was unbearably hot and the windows were open with screens in them. All of this was to no avail that evening. There was no air moving and I was wearing a light t-shirt and shorts trying to keep cool. The chair I was sitting in was next to the doorway and the upstairs hallway. The hallway in the house divided the living room from the kitchen and was enclosed on both sides with a large curtain at the bottom of the steps.
|The cat hissed loudly and froze. The hair on its back and tail stood straight out, and in its frozen position it resembled a pointer.|
I looked to my left toward the stairway just as our cat started up. The cat was a calico and was very even tempered. Just as the cat climbed the first step, an icy blast of air rushed down the stairs. The cat hissed loudly and froze. The hair on its back and tail stood straight out, and in its frozen position it resembled a pointer. Simultaneously with the cat's behavior, the cold breeze continued to build to the extent that the curtains were almost blowing straight out. In 1972, we had no air conditioning or any other device in the house that could have created the icy air that we now felt. None of us said anything. I felt goose bumps form on my arms and back, and the temperature in the living room perceptibly cooled.
Fifteen to 20 seconds had passed with no diminishment of the icy air or relief for our poor cat. I got up from the chair and cautiously peered up the stairway. The light at the top of the steps was on and nothing was visible. The cat was still frozen in mid-stride, and the breeze was almost heavy and very cool on the face. Out of the corner of my eye, it appeared that a very faint, gold-tinted light could be seen shimmering in the light. Yet when I looked directly at the light, nothing could be seen. I continued to look up the stairs for the next few seconds, but could not discern any apparent reason for the arctic air. I sensed something, but could not see it. Suddenly, as quickly as it had occurred, the breeze stopped. The cat shook itself as if it had just recovered from an injury. Her fur relaxed and she proceeded up the stairs and went into the left bedroom.
The topic of discussion the rest of the evening concerned what had just happened. My father revealed to me that when he was less than three years old, two of his older brothers had been playing cowboys and Indians between the kitchen and the living room of this house. The brothers in question were Buell and Boyd. Boyd, who was a year senior to Buell, was playing the Indian. Buell, in the kitchen, was playing as the cowboy. An old .22 caliber tube rifle was being used by Buell. Boyd was using an old toy bow. The rifle in question had no firing pin and had been used in this game for years. Horribly, unknown to anyone, their older brother Joe had been working on the rifle and had replaced the firing pin. He had loaded and fired the rifle the previous day. One lone shell had been left in the tube. My grandmother, Hazel, had been sitting in the living room 41 years earlier in approximately the same place I had been. Boyd jumped out from hiding beside his mother. Buell dodged and brought the rifle to bear. He squeezed the trigger and a loud bang echoed in the house. Boyd took the round in his heart. He turned to his mother and said, "Mom, I'm shot." With those words he collapsed into her arms and died.
Could what I witnessed 29 years ago have been the spirit of that small boy, my uncle, who died in that same house 41 years prior? I never felt fear as I gazed up those stairs, but am absolutely certain that what happened was outside of our normal world. And our cat sensed it, too. - Don W.
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