Iris Carter

Writer - Editor - Teacher - Intuitive

Animal Instinct

As I sat down in front of the classroom, I was going through materials, preparing my thoughts for the next portion of the lecture while the students were on a 10-minute break. I was immediately distracted by a medium-sized, short-haired dog. It had trotted in from the door in the back of the class, glanced at me, while walking up the aisle, and stopped at a seat that had been occupied by a student. The dog’s tongue was hanging out, slightly to the side, and he was wagging his tail excitedly. He bounced a little, walked back towards the door, and came back to the seat. He kept looking at me.


The dog wasn’t physically present, but he was definitely aware that I could communicate with him. I “tuned in” to chat, and was amused when I heard, “I found him; I found him! It’s been a long time, but I found him! He’s here!” The dog paced a few more times, eager for the man to return to his seat. As the student walked in the door, I saw the dog run to him, and walk along side with such excitement, sitting down when the student took his seat.

Then, the dog looked at me, “Tell him! Tell him I’m HERE!” I tried to draw my attention back to my papers knowing class needed to start in the next few minutes. I could see the dog out of the corner of my eye. He looked back and forth, from me to the student. “I can’t,” I thought. ‘How?” But I kept hearing a voice, not just from the dog, but from elsewhere, a guide or an angel, saying, “Yes, tell him.”

I tried to be casual. “Hey, do you have a dog?” I asked.

“Yeah, we got two,” said the student.

‘Have you ever had a dog that was about this big?” I motioned with my hands, “and black? Very hyper?”

“No, we don’t have a dog like that.” The guy looked puzzled.

“Not now, but ever. Like, maybe when you were a kid? Around 10 years old?” I saw a flash of an image of the guy as a young boy in the yard, playing with some other kids, and the dog was running through the yard towards him.

“Oh my gosh - YES!” the man confirmed. “I forgot about him. That dog hated everyone but me. I was the only one the dog liked, and he loved me. He followed me everywhere. How did you know?”

“Well, um, he’s here.” I said. The look of confusion on this poor student’s face was memorable. I continued, “I can do readings, and see things sometimes. The dog came running in …” I finished describing what I had seen. “He is so excited he found you and wants you to know he’s around.”

“Oh, Okayyyy.”

“I know, it’s woo-woo … but I was told to tell you.”

The student nodded.

“It is what it is,” I said. “But know that if you ever hear clicking noises on the floor in the kitchen while you are in bed at night, it’s the dog walking around. So don’t worry.”

Yeah, that went well.