What’s your dog thinking? Check your skepticism, a pet communicator might know
I don’t believe in pet psychics. But recently, my confidence was shaken a little.
“I use the mind’s eye to look at and converse with the spirit of the animal,” explained local pet psychic William Kilkoyle. “I get a mental picture of what their spirit looks like.”
Once he’s tuned in to an animal, he sends a thought. Sort of a “Hey, what’s going on?” Sometimes the answers come in the form of thoughts. Other times, he sees pictures.
“I think definitely it’s very healthy to be skeptical,” Kilfoyle said. “There are a lot of con artists out there that will take your money and make you believe they talked to your dog. I’m not that guy. I am actually tuning in.”
Fine, but let’s see some proof. Read my dog.
What does Ruby think?
My tester dog is Ruby, a 4-year old German shepherd mix. My parents adopted her a few years back, when she was a still a gawky teenager with oversized ears. She was being re-homed, and not for the first time. She was scared of squeaky toys. She didn’t know what to do with a tennis ball.
But my mom stroked the top of her head, looked into her clear brown eyes, and said, “I don’t know you yet, but I already love you.” It was mutual. Ruby is a one-person dog. She’s completely devoted to my mom, and no amount of liverwurst can bribe her affections away. It’s been tried.
These days, Ruby is an easy read. She’s gained some pounds and some confidence. She expresses herself in throaty yowls and howls. I already know what she’s thinking.
But I’m careful not to spill the beans to the pet psychic.
Talking to an animal communicator
Ruby’s first “reading” isn’t with a pet psychic, but a local animal communicator, Faith Rothlisberger.
“I’m not a psychic,” she explains. “I actually tune into them and talk to them like a translator.”
Rothlisberger charges $125 for an hour and a half, and she comes to your home. “Everyone likes to do this telecommute thing,” she said. “I’d rather see the dog.”
Unfortunately, Ruby wasn’t feeling chatty. She inspected Rothlisberger at the door, sniffed her a bit, and then trotted back to the other room to be with my mom.
“Cats want to make sure that you know what you’re doing before they even open their mouth, or their mind,” Rothlisberger said.
And dogs? “Well, it depends on the dog,” she said. “And Ruby is being … interestingly absent.”
I tried calling her back into the room a few times, but each time, she just popped her head in briefly as if to say “What, do you have food for me? Because I’m busy right now.”
“I think we need to find out what her anxiety is about. I don’t know why, but that’s kind of what she’s telling me,” Rothlisberger said.
Meeting the pet psychic
This seemed like a good place to start with Kilfoyle, the pet psychic. Kilfoyle does most of his readings by phone, especially since the pandemic. He charges $55 for 30 minutes and $75 for an hour. According to Kilfoyle, it’s actually easier to tune in from a distance, away from noise and other distractions.
Once he’s tuned in to an animal, he sends a thought. Sort of a “Hey, what’s going on?” Sometimes the answers come in the form of thoughts. Other times, he sees pictures.
But first, he asks a few basic questions. What’s your dog’s name? What does she look like? About how old is she? How long have you had her? With that, he says “Alright, let’s see what Ruby has to say.”
“Uh, she said somebody is not feeling well … looks like … maybe your mother? She’s worried about your mother not feeling well,” he said.
I’m not giving up any information yet, but he’s caught my attention. “What else does she say?” I ask.
“Just that she’s trying to be there for her, to be a comfort for her, but she’s very — she’s very worried. So … Does that seem to fit?”
In fact, it did fit. My mom has been fighting pancreatic cancer for the last several months, and Ruby has been trying everything in her limited dog repertoire to help her — licking her face, laying next to her, keeping watch at all times.
So I had to wonder: Did he really “talk” to my dog?
Talking to your dog
Kilfoyle used to wonder the same thing. These days, he’s highly confident in his psychic abilities. But decades ago, when he was first starting out, he wondered: Am I really seeing this? Did I really just talk to a dog?
His first four-legged client was an Australian shepherd, Sid. Kilfoyle also does massage therapy, and Sid belonged to one of his massage clients. He was fond of Sid, so he took notice when he noticed the dog suddenly moping.
“She just looked really sad,” Kilfoyle remembered. He asked his client, “What’s the matter with Sid?” She said she didn’t know. Without really trying, Kilfoyle found himself tapping into Sid’s spirit.
“I got loud and clear — not a voice — but just thoughts in my head that I knew weren’t mine,” Kilfoyle said.
“They’re splitting up,” Sid told Kilfoyle. “I have to go live with her father. And I don’t like her father. Tell her I don’t want to go live with her father.”
Kilfoyle didn’t say anything at first — he was worried he might just be imagining things. But then the next week, Sid was still moping. And this time, she told him, “Please. Tell her. I know you can hear me.”
Sid’s owner confirmed everything, he said. “I said ‘Wow. So I actually talked to the dog.’”
