Recently we had the animal communicator, Chris Stakes, come to our home and barn. First off, let me say that Chris presents herself really well. She is warm, friendly, and open. I was surprised by how much she smiled and how willing she was to just dive on in because I was thinking that wherever she goes she is bound to be met with skepticism and doubt. I liked her right off.
Here’s kind of how it went. I won’t bore you with a blow by blow. Instead I will confuse you with vignettes of what our animals had to say.
Misty: Of course the little girl can ride me. That’ll be fine. No! I won’t buck her off! I don’t want you to have the conversation with me that you just had with him down there.
Me: Does Misty want to have babies?
Misty: <snort> Are you kidding?
Misty: Tell him he needs to ride me. I like getting dressed up and going off places. I’m pretty and people like to look at me. I like for them to look at me. The man’s heart beats too hard. I think he’s going to have a heart attack. If he rides me more, just a little bit, he’ll feel better. His heart won’t beat so hard. He doesn’t talk to me any more. He used to talk to me a lot. Now he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he talk to me any more? I’m worried about him. He’s too stressed.
Loop that. Apparently she had a LOT to say along those lines. A lot.
She asked if Mark’s shoulder is okay. She asked about his knee. His shoulder bothers him often, his knee doesn’t.
The mare is worried about our husband. Oh yeah, she said she’s Mark’s Other Wife. LOL. I joke all the time about how he likes his women big and loud, the obvious reference(s) being me and the mare. Heh.
She likes to gallop through the big field. She said that she is very, very fast and that she loves to put her head up and gallop, very fast, through the field. That was one of the most fun times she’s ever had. She wants a job again. (Just for the record, Misty only thinks she’s fast. Payday and I could, quite literally, gallop circles around Misty and Mark. This does not matter. The whole point is that she *loves* galloping through a field…and by galloping I mean a show-ready, Western pleasure lope.)
She also said that sometimes she is bad for our horseshoer and he says, “Queeee-it! Queeee-it!” and Chris laughed and asked if our shoer has a really strong accent like that. Yep, LOL.
Wind is rotten. Immediately he began telling–um, bragging to— Chris about how he gets out of work and how nasty he is to Martina. Basically the communications involved him getting chewed out for a long time about how he needed to straighten up and get his work done and that his job was taking care of the little girl. He was told that no one can guarantee him a good life if he gets sold but that he’s got a good life here.
He doesn’t like the girl with the very blonde hair. They argued a lot and she was mean. The girl with the straight brown hair is his favorite. She wears a pony tail. That one really gets him. When I said he has to get into the trailer to go see her, he said, “Humph. Not worth it.” The one who comes here and rides him is nice. He likes her. She’s quiet.
There was a boy at the brown barn who yanked his mouth hard and often. He didn’t like him. He also didn’t like jumping because the kids bang onto his back after the jumps. He says he can win ribbons but he doesn’t like going around and around very much. He needs to do other things.
We have a deal where he’s going to get treats for working well with Martina. Bad attitude? No treats. Good attitude, treats during riding. If he doesn’t straighten up by November, he’s going to be sold to someone who can ride the snotty nose out of him. No treats.
Payday: He didn’t have a whole lot of surprising stuff to say, really, but I cried the whole time anyway. Well, not quite the *whole* time but enough. I love this old guy. He has been such an awesome horse. And you know what? He knows it! Some of the first things he told Chris were that he was something in his day, that he was good and that he never balked at a task. If he was asked to do it, he tried. He also said he was fast, and he was.
He told her about a wreck he had, years ago, where he fell on a big saddle, that he didn’t know what happened, why he wrecked, but that it put his withers out. That was ELEVEN years ago!
Payday misses peppermints. He sees the horse that died, the one that was Mark’s because Mark is the one who led it around all the time, which isn’t true incidentally, because I’m sure I led it more than he did but among our horses there is no misunderstanding about which horse belongs to me. Anyway, he said the dead horse was good and that she was his friend but that she was a pig and ate the grass chomp chomp chomp. He said that sometimes he would eat her grass and make her mad. When he sees her now, she’s out on the other side of the fence where the grass is greener. He liked that horse a lot.
He keeps the mare in order and puts the pony in his place when he’s bad. He misses having a job. Is the girl going to ride him some more? He doesn’t mind trucking the little girl around and he would go to a horse show with her and do fine once it’s cooler out. But mostly? I need to stop worrying so much.
He looked at the dogs as Thunder came gallumphing up and said, “Here comes the dumb one. At least that one has a clue.” Meaning: dumb=Thunder; clued-in=Jasmine. Heh.
We need to have more parties. He misses parties. Especially the ones where we stood by the fence and let him have some of our beer. He liked the beer and the parties and all the people.
He misses the hilly places and likes the still water where he can stand in it and it makes his feet cool. They feel better then. Misty also mentioned missing the hilly place. Most of our best times have been with the horses in the mountains. Apparently the horses feel the same way.
Jasmine, my little female Aussie had quite a bit to say and she was funny. She said: Chicken Dog over there doesn’t do much of anything. He just sits in the yard. I’m the one who has to do all of the work. Hah! Chicken Dog! She said that she hopes the big yellow dog that belongs to the crazy lady is dead. She hasn’t seen him in a while. (He isn’t and she is.) She said to tell the kid who has nightmares that she will run them off–the nightmares, not the kid. She will also turn into a badger and tear up anyone who tries to hurt our family.
Jasmine told that one of the horses has hurt her. That when she goes out to chase them, one of the horses tries to kick her. When we got to the barn, she butted right in and said it was Payday. The whole time I suspected Misty, who has a habit of kicking when she eats. Jasmine told stories on Mark and gave a lecture to the boy who takes too much to heart, the sensitive one.
She takes care of the family and was very worried about the black and white cat who was missing. We went and got him and brought him home last night. She likes the orange kitten best. These are all my things, my worries and opinions. She is just like mini me! She wants everyone safe and taken care of and in their proper place. She is constantly watching and taking care of everyone. She watches Martina, in particular, all of the time. Good little doggie.
She likes getting on the bed when the covers are rumpled and snuggling in them, even though she knows she’s not supposed to. Heh. She is *just like that*.
Thunder was kind of quiet. Mostly he’s happy, he wants to know if we’re going to keep working on the house because the banging scares him and he wants to ride in the truck. He wants hamburger to eat. Dog food is for dogs. Jasmine would like chips, probably with avocado and Gatorade. They are certain they are not dogs, or so it would seem.
We also spent a few minutes with the goats. Sarah is funny, Pandora wants what she wants when she wants it and babies are not what she wants. They want to go back into the barn like they got to last winter. Okay.
In the end I must admit that though I want to be a skeptic, really I’m not. I totally believe that animals can communicate with people and some of us are better at hearing them than others. I learned some things, plan on having a chiropractor out to work on Payday and Misty and that pony? Darn him! He’s going to understand me right quick. He’s not the only pretty horse around.