Now, little Stinker (who had never known anything but the comfort and safety of the other rats in her litter) followed this exact routine, hanging out in each part of our home at the same time as the former rat clan had done. Then, at precisely 10
P.M
., she climbed down from the familiar nest by the front door and headed off to the walk-in closet in the bedroom, as if she knew where everything was. I was speechless as I observed this eerily familiar behavior. Our current rats at that time, Henry and Ginger, who had come
after
the former rats had all passed, had developed a completely different routine, not even remotely similar to this, so I knew that Stinker hadn’t learned any of this behavior by observing
them
. Needless to say, she was one of the babies we ended up keeping.
Two of the male babies (whom we named Cody and Sebastian) displayed a very similar familiarity. (In fact, Cody was the only male to venture off the boys’ table and have a very similar adventure throughout our home.) Just as Stinker stood out as different from all the other females, Cody and Sebastian stood out from all the other males. As I held them, I felt an uncanny sense of familiarity that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, and they seemed unusually comfortable with us and their new surroundings—completely different than the rest of the babies and even the moms, who all displayed the more usual caution of a rat who isn’t yet sure what to make of those giants known as humans.
I recall a priceless moment that took place early on, before I had consulted any animal communicators, when I leaned down next to the boys’ cage and little Sebastian climbed up onto my shoulder. As I knelt there with his soft, warm body nestled against my cheek, I felt an indescribable love for this little creature whom I hardly knew. Somehow, I felt such a deep love for him, and such a comfort at having him there so close to me, that I just couldn’t imagine where such feelings were coming from. As I tried to grasp the fullness of what I was feeling, I realized that it somehow seemed as though he and I had been reunited; I almost felt as if my son had returned to me.
Where were these feelings coming from?
When I later spoke with animal communicator Patty Summers (author of the book
Talking with the Animals
), I didn’t tell her any of this. Yet, she immediately keyed in on Stinker, Cody, and Sebastian, and told me they had been with us before. The purpose of this particular appointment was to communicate with the
male
babies to find out what types of adoptive homes would best suit them and which of them would prefer to stay together, so Patty focused primarily on the group of boys. Right away, she stated matter-of-factly that Sebastian had been our former rat Jonathan, and Cody had been our former rat Katey. I hadn’t even
considered
this possibility, as they looked completely different, not to mention the fact that Cody was a different
gender
than Katey. I now wondered if it was a coincidence that we had chosen such similar names for them. Interestingly, when I later looked back upon my notes of prior sessions with Patty Summers, I noticed some amazing consistencies.
Before they died, Patty had spoken with both Jonathan and Katey. Jonathan was albino (white with pink eyes) and Katey was white with black patches down her back and the most beautiful black patch over one eye. Everyone always commented on how pretty Katey was. In fact, the first time Patty ever spoke with Jonathan, he told her he thought Katey was very pretty and enjoyed looking at her. Patty had never seen Katey when she told me this.
Then, when Jonathan died, I had another session with Patty. She told me that Jonathan would be coming back to me in the future, but that he wouldn’t be albino the next time around. He said he would be male again, but the next time he would have some dark markings. At that point, I was open to the idea, so I asked her how I would find him. She said not to worry;
he
would find
me
.
Now, as I looked at little Sebastian, I noticed his beautiful markings. Not only did he have dark markings, just as Jonathan had said he would, but he looked a
lot
like the subject of Jonathan’s admiration: Katey. We had a small mirror in a corner of the cage, which all of the rats completely ignored … except Sebastian. He was often seen gazing at his handsome reflection in the mirror, just as Jonathan had once gazed at the beautiful sight of Katey. Could an animal really admire the appearance of another animal so much that he decided to choose a similar body for
himself
the next time around? The idea boggled my mind.
Equally fascinating were the other similarities between the former Jonathan and the current Sebastian (who, according to Patty, were one and the same), including the unique way they both always looked directly up at us with their sweet, knowing eyes. Cody, likewise, displayed many of the same behaviors as Katey had. For example, Katey had always enjoyed “supervising” me as I cleaned cages, and Cody (who, according to Patty,
was
Katey, in a new body), was now the only rat who displayed the identical behavior.
I noticed further similarities once the rats were spayed and neutered and all of them were free to play together throughout our home. Katey had regularly flattened herself out and gone underneath the oven and refrigerator, and now Cody was the only rat doing the exact same thing. We had eventually put blockades across the bottom front of these appliances to prevent Katey from getting into trouble under there, and we had kept the blockades in place until Katey’s death. None of the other rats had any interest in squeezing themselves under kitchen appliances. Now, with Cody, we had to put the blockades back in place.
What are the odds?
I wondered to myself.
Katey had always enjoyed climbing up onto my hand and going on “rides” around the house as I held her up to various wall hangings and shelves for her to explore. She had always just stopped for a moment to check out each new destination, and then climbed onto my hand and signaled to me that she was ready to check out something else. Cody now repeatedly climbed onto my hand with the same gestures and enjoyed the same “rides” around the house as Katey had. No other rat expressed the same interest in doing this, and when I tried, they either climbed off at the first destination and headed off to do their own thing, or they headed straight for the security of my shoulder.
Katey’s nickname had been Kateydid, which became Diddy for short. Jameth and I used to sing her a song to the tune of “Camptown Races” (with words customized just for her), which we called “The Diddy Song.” She always chattered happily when we sang this, as if she knew it was her song. When we now sang this song in front of the new rats, Cody was the only one who chattered happily just as Katey had, acting as if he
remembered
the song.
As I looked back at my notes from a session I had with Patty shortly after Katey died, I was further amazed at the consistencies. Katey died several months after Jonathan, and I called Patty for some comfort. She informed me that Katey, too, was planning to return to me in the future. She went on to say that Katey planned to be male the next time around, as she wanted to have that experience. She also said that she would be returning along with Jonathan, that they would both be white with dark markings, and that they would arrive unexpectedly with a whole litter of other rats. She said that the two of them would make themselves known to me and would stand out from the other rats in their cage.
At the time, I found the idea comforting, but I suppose I didn’t entirely believe that it would actually
happen
. In fact, I had forgotten all about it when this litter of rats arrived and I felt an almost immediate connection to Cody and Sebastian, who both stood out so boldly and prominently from the other rats in their cage, just as Patty had said. Once again, they became extremely special members of our family.
S
EVERAL MONTHS LATER
, another special soul named Allison joined our family. She arrived along with Melanie, the Siamese rat mentioned in the previous chapter. They both had been abandoned in a dirty cage on the side of a busy road. Allison was a beautiful, shiny black rat with a white underbelly and large, beautiful eyes. She looked a lot like June. Jameth and I both felt a connection to her the moment she arrived, and it seemed very mutual.
Allison wasn’t with us for very long. She appeared to be older than Melanie; and about six months after she arrived, she began to have trouble breathing and stopped eating altogether. By the time we determined that the cause was an obstruction of the throat (an internal growth) rather than a respiratory infection, her condition was quite advanced. After her first surgery, her breathing was back to normal and she resumed eating, but the vet had seen this condition before and told us that it would most likely recur within a week or two. Unfortunately, the vet was right.
So, we soon found ourselves rushing Allison to another vet for yet another surgery. This time, we went to a different but equally exceptional vet we had recently discovered, who was also very good with rats. This vet was only an hour away, rather than two hours away as our other vet was, but the drive seemed like an eternity as little Allison struggled to breathe and I tried desperately to comfort her.
When we arrived, the vet took one look at Allison and said, “This rat should be euthanized.” I knew he was right, but I just couldn’t let her go. I had seen such a dramatic turnaround after her previous surgery that I was hoping for another chance. However, Allison’s condition had worsened and she was quite weak. I asked the vet to please try his best, and if she didn’t survive the surgery, we would consider it “meant to be.” He agreed.
Before she went in for surgery, Jameth and I asked for a moment alone with Allison. I held her up near our faces, and she turned her head toward me and looked me straight in the eyes. She looked at me so intently that I knew she was telling me something important. I felt an immense surge of love pouring from her, and I felt a deep gratitude being conveyed. I knew she was saying good-bye. My eyes filled with tears and I watched as she then slowly, deliberately turned her head to face Jameth. I watched as she looked intently into his eyes for a long while, and it was evident that she was expressing the same love and gratitude to him. He, too, felt that she was saying good-bye. But more than that, I felt that she was attempting to comfort us, to let us know that everything was going to be okay. I was amazed at the wisdom and peace of this tiny little being who so clearly knew exactly what was going on. She was the one who was dying, yet
she
was comforting
us
.
As the veterinary assistant then carried little Allison off to surgery, I began to cry.
“She’s not going to make it,” I told Jameth as he hugged me tightly. He knew. As I played that final good-bye over and over in my mind, I felt that there was something more she was trying to convey, yet I couldn’t quite grasp it. I was still just learning to trust my own ability to telepathically communicate with animals, so it remained a mystery for quite some time.
When the vet emerged from the operating room some time later, his face said it all. She had slipped away while under the anesthesia. He knew how special she was to us, and it was obviously difficult for him to deliver the news. We thanked him for doing his best, and for caring so much. He had given it his all, but it was clearly her time to go.
A dear friend of ours, Shirley Marcoux, had become especially attached to Allison, and the two of them had shared many precious moments. Whenever Shirley came over to our house, Allison followed her around, until Shirley inevitably picked her up and showered her with kisses. Shirley often told people that her best friend was a rat. She said that Alli (which was what she always called her) had taught her how truly special rats can be, and that she was a wonderful rat ambassador.
We knew that Shirley was waiting with bated breath to hear the outcome of the surgery, so we determined that we should call her right away. I was too upset to speak, so Jameth offered to make the call. As he began leaving a message on Shirley’s voice mail, his voice broke. He choked on his words as he delivered the news. Shirley told us later that, upon hearing Jameth’s voice on her voice mail, she had begun to cry before he had even delivered the message; his voice had said it all.
It was about six months later when Henry appeared to both Jameth and myself in that most memorable and comforting dream (as told in Chapter 14, “Sweet Dreams”). Seeing Allison in the background, behind Henry, had brought additional comfort. However, I continued to wonder
why
Henry had shown Allison to us. I had concluded that he simply wanted us both to know that they were together and they were fine, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was also trying to communicate something more.
I’ve noticed various patterns throughout my life. I can’t make sense of them, yet I can’t help but notice them. For example, I was born on the 29th, met my husband on the 29th, got married on the 29th, and have noticed a lot of other 29s in my life as well. Coincidence? It might very well be, and I would perhaps be the first one to dismiss such a similarity as mere coincidence, or as the observation of a mind trying a little too hard to find some order and meaning in the world where there is none. However, I’ve also made similar observations that I just can’t ignore. For example, I’ve noticed that the same types of things always seem to happen in my life on the exact same dates of different years, without any preplanning on my part.
In fact, as I was working on this book, the project just kept growing, so I didn’t get a chance to transcribe the countless hours of recorded interviews I had conducted until three years later. As I organized and listened to each interview, I discovered with amazement that,
coincidentally
, I was reviewing each interview on the
exact
same date as it had originally been recorded, but three years later.