Also, as I sorted, reviewed, and edited the countless stories that I collected over the years, it seemed that whenever I had a question on something and needed to contact the person who submitted the story, more often than not I just happened to
coincidentally
contact them on the anniversary of the death of their beloved animal companion, unbeknownst to me until they told me how timely it was that I should happen to contact them on that day. This happened time and again. I couldn’t help but notice. Again, I couldn’t make sense of it, but I couldn’t ignore it, either. I still don’t claim to have an explanation for it; I can merely report my observations.
Since I began working on this book, many people have contacted me reporting very similar observations in their own lives (such as realizing after the fact that the death of an animal has occurred on precisely the same date as the death of a previous animal, but in a different year) without realizing that others are reporting very similar synchronicities. Whenever people ask me about this, I tell them that I don’t have all the answers, but I, too, have noticed such patterns.
One such pattern began several months after June’s passing. June had died on October 18th. It was exactly three months later, on January 18th, when Jonathan had entered our lives. Then, exactly two years later, again on January 18th, Henry had unexpectedly entered our lives. Both Jonathan and Henry had been exceptionally special rats to whom we had grown especially attached, not unlike June before them.
Now, here we were, two years later, and January 18th was again approaching. Having seen similar patterns in so many areas of my life, I couldn’t help but wonder if yet another extra-special rat would be entering our lives on the forthcoming January 18th.
“I have a feeling an extra-special rat is going to show up on January 18th,” I told Jameth. When he asked me why, I explained that I had noticed a pattern. “It seems that an extra-special rat has entered our lives every other January 18th since June died, so I won’t be at all surprised if it happens again.”
Sure enough, on the morning of January 18th, Maggie, my good friend and fellow animal rescuer, left me a message. She had just gotten a call that a rat was found in front of a local library. Maggie was just heading out of town on business that morning, so she asked if I could pick up the rat. This was the second time Maggie had enlisted my assistance with her own rescue efforts, the first time having been when all the babies had arrived several months earlier.
Later that same day, on January 18th, a beautiful little black and white hooded rat entered our lives. She had been found wandering around in front of the library, looking for food. A little boy had spotted her, and he had begun feeding her. When the librarian had come out to assist, as she had reached out to hand the rat more food, the rat had climbed up her arm, obviously wanting nothing to do with the great outdoors. The rat had apparently been dropped off there by someone who thought she could survive outdoors, even though she was clearly a domesticated rat who had no experience in fending for herself.
The librarian had housed the rat on a bed of wood shavings in a large plastic bin with air holes poked in the lid. I have great respect for that librarian, who cared enough for this little creature in need to take her in to safety and call for help on that fateful day.
As soon as I saw this rat, I felt an instant connection. I’ve known and loved many animals, and I’ve had more than my share of rescued rats over the years, but there was something very unique and tangible about this connection, beyond the fact that it happened to occur on January 18th.
Jameth and I named her Penelope, and when we brought her home and got her settled, we both noticed how familiar she seemed. Neither of us could quite put our finger on it, but we somehow felt that we
knew
her, and that she knew us. I scheduled an appointment with animal communicator Patty Summers to check in with this new arrival, as I often did when new rats joined the family, especially if their background was a mystery. All I told her was the rat’s name, Penelope.
She told me that the rat seemed fairly young, and this was my sense, too, as she wasn’t yet full grown. Patty then went on to say that this rat had a very easy, gentle, sweet, and loving presence; and this seemed quite accurate as well. Then Patty paused as she tried to grasp what the rat was communicating to her.
“I keep getting an ‘A’ name,” Patty said, as she tried to get more clarity on the name she was receiving from this little rat. I asked her if this was the name the rat wanted to be called, instead of Penelope. She said that, actually, this was the name the rat had been called
before
. So, I asked her if she meant that this was the name the rat had been called before we got her. She said, “No,” this was the name the rat had been called in a
former life
. She said that the rat had lived with us before, and she was telling us her name. I was speechless as she continued.
“I’m getting something like Alligator, Allison, Alli, Alice … “ she said as she struggled to make sense of it. She couldn’t imagine why she was hearing “Alligator,” as she didn’t think there was any possibility that we would have called a rat such an inappropriate name. She said she didn’t understand it, but this was what she was hearing.
“I don’t know why she’s telling me this, because you never
had
a rat named Allison or Alli,
did you?
” she asked, absolutely puzzled at this information. She honestly didn’t know we had ever had a rat with such a name. I then informed her that we had, indeed, had a rat named Allison the year before. We had only had her for six months, and Patty hadn’t known about her. I then laughed as I recalled that we had called her “Alligator” as a nickname, and our friend Shirley had always called her Alli.
In that moment, it all made sense to me.
Of course
she was so familiar. It felt like an awakening as I once again came face-to-face with incredible evidence of a reunion with a beloved animal, a reunion that I once would have dismissed as impossible.
Patty went on to say that Allison was truly “picking up right where she left off the last time around.” She explained that it was as simple as going to the store and coming back. She said that Allison had been extremely happy to leave her former body behind, as it was simply worn out and no longer comfortable to be in. While hovering over her body, which had been under anesthesia on the operating table, she had simply chosen to leave … and now she was back.
Suddenly, I understood what Allison had been communicating to me on that fateful day as she had said good-bye before going in for that last surgery. I now grasped the final piece of her message that had eluded me for so long. She had not only been telling me good-bye; she had been saying, “Don’t worry; I’ll be back.” And now here she was.
She truly did seem to be picking up right where she had left off, so we decided to call her Allison once again. She displayed all of the same behaviors as before, and once again, she seemed to enjoy the company of humans in her life far more than the company of other rats. As time went on, I observed more and more similarities that I was unable to dismiss as mere coincidence, including her very unique way of reaching out to grab people’s faces to express affection, a very specific behavior that I’ve never observed in any other rat (and I’ve known
many
rats in my lifetime).
She said she was so happy to be back and that she felt so loved. It was very mutual. She went on to describe the circumstances surrounding her having been set loose, explaining that she had known all along she would find her way back to us. Of course, I had no way of verifying this part of her message, as no one really knew
how
she had ended up in front of the library that day. However, I was able to corroborate the part about the little boy finding her, and her then being put in a large clear plastic bin on a bed of wood shavings (at the library), which Patty had no way of knowing yet described in great detail. When I brought up our friend Shirley’s name during the session, Allison had a warm message of love and affection for her as well.
Allison once again became an extra-special member of the family, and to this day she is an incredible ambassador for ratkind. Whenever a new person comes to visit or a new rat comes to stay, Allison is the first one to say hello and to make the newcomer feel welcome. Whenever there is a sick or elderly rat who needs attention, Allison is always by their side, nurturing and showering them with affection. She radiates pure love, and I feel so blessed to have her in my life.
D
URING THE SAME CONSULTATION
with animal communicator Patty Summers, in which Allison disclosed her identity, I also asked to connect with Henry on the Other Side. At this point, he had been gone for nearly six months. I still missed him and just wanted to check in. I also now wondered if he planned to return to us as Allison had. So, once Allison had communicated all that she wanted to say, Patty then connected with Henry’s spirit.
She said that Henry wasn’t going to come back, at least not anytime soon, that he was enjoying his job on the Other Side. She then went on to explain that his important mission on the Other Side was to send rats to us. She said that we were helping to heal the relationship between humans and rats, and that Henry’s job was to make sure the rats found their way to us. She said that when his mission there was complete, there would be a time when he would be able to “pass the baton” and come back to us, but for now he was happy doing what he was doing. She said that he felt he would be “breaking a sacred trust to come back just yet.” She then went on to explain that not very many animals were doing the type of sacred work he was doing and that it was very important work.
As Patty described Henry’s presence and the way he appeared to her, I was suddenly reminded of the dream in which he had appeared to Jameth and me. Her description sounded uncannily familiar. She said that he had a very large presence and that she could see his face so clearly. She also said that he was a very evolved soul, and I smiled as I recalled that we had always thought of him as our little “holy man” because he had always seemed so spiritually advanced, so
holy
.
I also recalled that, in the dream, he had specifically shown us an image of Allison; and now, several months later, here she was, back in our lives. This
did
seem to fit in with the notion that his job was to help guide the rats to us. Could it be true? Had he indeed appeared to us to let us know that Allison would be returning? I had always felt there was something more that he was trying to communicate to us in that dream, that there was a specific reason he was showing Allison to us.
I then told Patty about the dream, and she confirmed what I now deduced: that he had clearly been telling us that he was sending Allison back to us. In a strange sort of “out there” way, it all made perfect sense. I felt the arrival of goose bumps as I contemplated the significance of what I was now coming to understand.
Patty also explained that Henry said he had died because he had completed his job in physical form. His job had been to open the door for us to accept many more rats into our home, to open a door that would have otherwise been closed. I recalled that he
did
arrive quite unexpectedly, just after we had buried the last of our prior beloved rats and had decided not to open our door to any more animals because the pain of losing them was just too devastating. He had indeed opened a door that had been closed. There’s no way Patty could have known this.
She also said that he had died once he knew everyone was settled in and established as a permanent family. I understood the meaning of this as well. After ten years of working very hard and living in whatever small quarters we could afford at the time, Jameth and I had finally bought our own home, a home in which the rats would have their own room—the “Rat Room” I had dreamed of since childhood.
The first time we looked at the house, we both noticed that the den would make a
perfect
rat room. It had three walls and was completely open on the fourth side, which opened out onto the main hallway. With the addition of a clear gate across the opening, the rats would be secure in their room yet still an integral part of the household. We would be able to see and interact with them every time we walked by, and they would have a place to call their very own. We could build fun things to climb on and play in, and we knew they would love it! And that they did. We now had enough room to welcome many more rats who needed a home, and the Rat Room officially became known as the Rat Refuge.
Henry’s health had suddenly and dramatically declined as we were packing and preparing for our change in residence, and he had died the day we moved into our new home,
the day the rats moved into the Rat
Refuge.
Since then, many dozens of rats have come to live out the rest of their lives in this safe haven for rats. Henry had opened the door; he had seen to it that this haven was established; and now, apparently, he was seeing to it that the rats found their way here.
A
S
I
LOOKED BACK UPON
the various animals I had loved throughout my life, I wondered if my new understanding might shed some light upon the inexplicable familiarity I had often felt upon first meeting certain animals. I then recalled an incident from childhood that I had long forgotten.
After my first rat, Queenie, died, my second-grade teacher—who had pet rats—quietly took me aside toward the end of the school year and asked me if I would like a baby rat from a recent litter. I got permission from my parents, along with a brand-new cage; and on the last day of school, after all the other children had gone home, it was time for me to choose my new baby rat.