Destined to Heal: One Paw at a Time
When I was eight years old, my mother suffered an aneurism and died suddenly. My father had a hush-hush way of dealing with it: If we didn’t talk about it, we could pretend it never happened. Fawn, my sweet little Pekingese, took care of me emotionally. She became my surrogate mother, all 10 pounds of her. She had the patience of a saint and allowed me to bury my head in her fur and cry.
The days were long and lonely after my mother’s passing. I spent many an hour with Fawn. The house had an empty feeling to it, and Fawn helped to fill the void. After school, she and I used to lie on the floor in the living room, basking in the late-afternoon sun. Recalling it, I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, her musky smell, the wetness of her small flat nose when I leaned in to kiss it. I used to scoop her up in my arms to get a bit closer to her. I knew she missed my mother too.
The summer following my mother’s death, my older sister Kathy, Fawn, and I were shipped off to my grandparents’ farm on the rolling grassy plains of northwestern Nebraska. It was a very different life from the one in suburban New Jersey, and I loved it. Something resonated deeply within me; something was gently awakening.
The animal communicator
The pain of my mother’s passing was still very heavy in my heart. During that summer I would teach myself what I now understand to be the basics of energy balancing and animal communication. Though I wasn’t aware of exactly what I was doing then, I made the discovery that I had energy in my hands. I could soothe wild barn kittens by gently holding them in my hands. The kittens would be so nervous and skittish until my hands started to heat up. I would whisper to them and send them the message that I was helping them, sending them love from my heart to theirs. They seemed to listen. I didn’t know that what I was doing was any different than how other people “talked” to their animals. We communicated without words. Their nervous bodies would soon relax and then they would begin to purr.
I could get my grandfather’s farm dog to play with me by beaming my hands at him. For me, this was just a playful game. I didn’t see this as a gift or practice. I did know that watching the animals and sending energy to them helped relax them and it helped them to trust me.
Around that time, I started to have vivid dreams that very often came true. Sometimes I dreamt about my friends and their families, and my dreams were extremely accurate. I was a natural at any sixth-sense endeavor. As a child, I didn’t have a choice whether or not to be intuitive. It was just who I was, the strongest part of my nature.
I was always uncontrollably drawn to animals that were hurt or suffering. I always felt compelled to put my hands on them.
No matter how nervous they were, I could calm them down. I knew I was making a difference, and if felt right and good in my heart to be able to help. It always calmed me too.
As a kid I didn’t know where I was going with my “special gifts,” but I knew I was a little different from most of the other kids. It wasn’t always easy but it did help to make me strong. All I wanted was to be able to share my hands with every animal I met. I wasn’t sure where it would take me, but it was my passion, my calling.
We spent three summers in the wilds of Nebraska on my grandparents’ farm. Those summers shaped the course of my life. My love and respect for all animals saved me from loneliness and an uncertain future. The animals bestowed upon me invaluable gifts. They taught me to communicate from my heart and to trust my intuition. What started with Fawn helping to heal me ultimately evolved my gift of healing and awakened my mission to serve.
I started volunteering at a local animal shelter when I was 12. I had never known what happened to pets that were sick or what happened to the animals that didn’t get adopted. I learned quickly; the things I witnessed were inhumane and indelibly imprinted upon me.
That place was a living hell for the animals, filled with fear and anxiety. It was a small shelter and there was no room for holding dogs to assess them and find out what they needed. Many healthy and sick dogs, cats, kittens and bunnies died in fear in crowded gas chambers, some fighting to their deaths. I swore then that someday I would help animals in need. I didn’t know how, I just knew I had to make a difference. As a 12-year- old, I witnessed cruel practices that I will never forget, practices that are still happening today in shelters all around our “civilized” country.
Today, I am living my dream come true. I have worked with thousands of animals helping to give them a voice through animal communication and easing their pain with the energy in my hands.
I have helped dogs, cats, bunnies, horses, and myriad other critters in all stages of life. I have eased the burden of transition for dying animals, making it a peaceful passing with an abundance of love. I have nursed ailing animals back to health.
These days I continue to talk with animals all over the country, through long-distance communication. My dreams continue to develop as I continue to grow with them. I teach everyone I work with simple skills that help them to hear their animals’ inner voices. I teach them to support their four-legged family members by using the energy in their own hands. I have traveled all over the country teaching what I now call “CinergE,” my life’s work.
I am in the process of developing a CinergE program for animal shelters. I have seen so many animals transform, blossoming into the perfect pets after working with me. Each time this happens I give thanks for never giving up on my dreams. No matter what the popular opinion has been, I have persevered and continued on my somewhat unconventional path.
Recently I saw a little rescue dog that was afraid of life. I put my hands on him and tuned into his worries.
He was very frightened, but he didn’t resist or fight me. He shivered and stared up at me with concerned eyes.
Next we went for a confidence-building walk. He was terrified of being outside; it was chaotic and frightening for him. I sat down on the ground next to him and he told me that in his previous home he had never seen the light of day. He lived in a basement with many other fearful dogs with a single overhead light bulb. There were noises that scared him that could be heard through the floor above.
I reached over and he didn’t move. He looked at me with sad eyes and I let the energy flow. He snuggled up next to me. I assured him he was now safe. I called his family over to us and handed them his leash. The little dog was transformed and no longer afraid, now behaving like a regular well-adjusted dog. He even peed outside. He had never done this outside of his yard. Every time I got close to him he would jump up on my legs and give me a kiss. I taught his people how to continue to work with him and they were thrilled. Healing is a process for all of us, a reciprocal process – one that beautifully works both ways.
I will spend the rest of my life reaching out to people to help me make a difference in the lives of our animal family members, no matter how great or small. I made a promise to myself and I continue to keep it, 46 years later.
Learn more at CindyBrody.com