“You want an animal communication session with your chicken?” I asked, not able to hide the myriad of thoughts racing through my mind.
In the several years since I started working as an animal communicator, and taking people on safari to connect with Africa’s wild beings, I’d never heard of, nor considered (shame on me), doing an animal communication with a chicken.
My mind was stuck on thoughts of failure, searching for any touch point, any information at all about communicating with chickens. Had any of my teachers or mentors ever mentioned sessions with a chicken? No.
“I love my chickens and would like to know if they are happy or if they need anything different from what I’m doing for them,” Stephanie said.
That makes sense. Why wouldn’t she want to know that? I thought to myself feeling very superficial about my initial reaction to Stephanie’s request.
The usual ask from a client concerns their dog, cat, and horse companions. I haven’t yet been asked to have a session with a hamster, parrot, or goldfish yet I wouldn’t hesitate to do animal communication sessions for those beings. So why was I discriminating against animal communication with chickens?
I Know Chickens
I know chickens, I reminded myself. I love chickens. Before I was officially an animal communicator, I had a flock of chickens pecking around my garden. My neighbor opened a portion of fence between our back yards to straddle a beautifully crafted coop between our properties. We shared the eggs, as well as the love, respect and care for our 6 girls.
“I’ve never had a session with a chicken but I’m willing to try,” I finally told Stephanie.
“The one I most want information about is Chaz,” she responded.
“I’m not making any promises.” I said, then added, “I’m not going to charge you,” hoping to relieve some of the pressure I was feeling.
Animal Communication with a Chicken
After receiving the pre-requisite photos and answers to a few questions I had given Stephanie I meditated and began my session.
Some animals invite me into their space right away. Others take a while to warm up to our telepathic connection. Chaz was the former. I had hardly introduced myself before she began sharing all sorts of things. A few of her concerns were typical of what I would expect myself to already know about a chicken so I wasn’t sure if the information was coming from Chaz or me. But as the session progressed there was one particular topic that was unique enough to give me confidence that Chaz really was communicating with me.
She was telling me something about water. Chaz showed me an empty bowl and I felt her thirst and dehydration.
By the end my session with Chaz I asked if there was anything she especially wanted me to tell her human companion. A vision of Chaz resting on a wooly red blanket folded in a square inside the chicken coop came into my mind’s eye.
This last bit of information erased all the confidence I had gained during our hour-long session. I was now sure my animal communication with this loving, friendly, talkative soul had been a complete bust. A blanket in a chicken coop? Highly unlikely, I rationalized. It would become filthy, the chicken’s claws would get caught in the weave, and it’s unnecessary, I told myself. I was a failure at chicken speak.
I can hear the words from the various teachers I’ve trained with over the years – “no matter how silly, wrong, and non-sensical you believe the information received during a session with an animal is, you should always share it. Let the human client validate it or not.”
So that’s what I did. I relayed to Stephanie the standard information I received and then I told her about the water.
Stephanie didn’t hesitate. “One of the other chickens has been knocking the water pale over and now I realize she is doing it before Chaz has a chance to drink.”
Encouraged by her reaction I added, “The last thing I got from Chaz is something I am not sure what to make of,” I said. “Sometimes an animal will share something with me that is out of context and I rely on the human to make sense of it.” The red blanket was such a moment.
“Chaz wants me to tell you that she loves the new red blanket you added to the chicken coop,” I said, then waited.
As if this were perfectly normal Stephanie said she was happy to hear that Chaz loves her new red blanket.
About a month later, after writing a wonderful post on Instagram about my session with Chaz, Stephanie contacted me.
“Can you please do a session for my Lemon Tree?” she asked.
“What?”
“Can you tell me what’s wrong with my Lemon Tree.”
I stared at the photos she sent me, willing my way into the energy field of the tree. But I couldn’t do it.
How much I still have to learn about interspecies communication, I thought, and left it at that.