(c)2008 Suzan Vaughn
(no reproduction without permission)

Turning to Heaven

I lived in circumstances where I could have no pets, and so I turned my request heavenward for answers.
“So what would be the perfect animal companion in my current situation?” I asked. The answer was on the north side of the house.

The north side is the one adjacent a culvert that carries rainwater and other runoff to the ocean. It teams with life and is filled with all manner of creatures that come and go seasonally. They include dragonflies, ducks, a variety of insects, and tiny frogs.

The north side is also the side of the house where there was a problem with the door frame. A half-inch gap underneath the door frame allowed spring breezes to waft in. So it wasn’t long before something else squeezed in under the door: tiny frog visitors.

Frog Families Arrive

At first they seemed to come in small families of four. A couple of them would hop on in. Some loitering behind the bookcase for awhile, some climbing the wall with their little sucker feet. One of them would scale the wall half-way up. He jumped into the cut out eyes on a wooden giraffe mask that hung there, and hibernate behind the wood. But eventually, they all ended up in the water-filled vase with the lucky bamboo plants. There, they could lounge on a stalk half in and half out of the water.

For several weeks each night around dinner time, a mama frog would squeeze underneath the door and wait just inside. After a few minutes, a couple of juvenile frogs inevitably appeared from inside the house, and followed her out.

I welcomed them in, marveling at their chameleon skin, watching it change colors right in front of me. That happened whenever they moved from clinging to a bamboo stalk to the light wooden table underneath. As a professional inter-species communicator (aka Pet Psychic or Animal Communicator), I naturally opened the lines of discussion immediately.

Communicating with the Frogs

Our initial communication was about what parts of the house would be safest for them. I let them know that humans are not always cognizant of their feet, which can injure tiny amphibians. Their listening skills were impeccable. Rarely did they make a mistake and venture outside the area I asked them to stay in. Once in awhile when a newcomer did, we herded him gently back to the safe zone.

Our second conversations revolved around relieving themselves outside.

After a month or so, I began to recognize their energy, and one of them in particular visited daily. I called him Frogger, and delighted in his company.

This is what human love and respect feels like, I told him, sending those sentiments his way.

He took it in. He came back for more on subsequent days and told his friends.

Request

“I really want to touch your body,” I said to my Frogger friend one day, as he floated in the plant water. “Humans love to touch. Will you let me?” I asked. He didn’t really want to, but my enthusiasm overwhelmed my desire to respect his space.

Frogger jumped a little to the side of the bowl as my finger came gently into contact with his back. He said his instinct was to hop away, but he stayed. I apologized for not being able to resist touching him.

I also shared worry with him.

“I’m concerned there’s nothing for you to eat here,” I told him.
“There’s plenty for me to eat here,” he said, “you just can’t see it.”

The next day I noticed a tiny nest of gnats I hadn’t seen before.

Admiring Frogger

I admired Frogger’s efficiency when it came to swimming, a sport I also enjoyed. He treaded water without having to wave his arms around like me. He just naturally floated.

Barriers to Frog Friends

As the weather got cooler, we installed weather stripping at the bottom of the door to keep the cold out. I felt so sad. Frogger would no longer be able to visit spontaneously. Then one morning I got up, looked in the lucky bamboo, and found his little head poking above the water!

“Frogger!” I said. “I’m so happy you found a way in!”

But had he? I was concerned. What if he had been hiding in the house for a couple of days and he couldn’t get out? I had to know, so as soon as he began hopping along the wall toward the door jamb, I asked him.

“Please show me if you need my help getting out of the house and back to your frog family,” I said.

Frogger was slow. He hopped. He stopped. He changed direction a few times and hopped around, but didn’t go out.

“I guess you’ll need a little help then,” I said, and with that, I opened the door.

He could easily feel the cool night air, smell the fog, and hear the sounds of his fellow frogs in the culvert outside. Yet he hopped away from the door once it was open and waited patiently nearby.

Listening Again

I closed the door and sat back, waiting to hear what he was trying to convey. Then, after a few minutes, he proceeded to a tiny separation between the weather stripping and the door jamb. He flattened his body, and wiggled his way out through the small crack. It was an amazing magical feat in which he reduced his body size by half! It took a great deal of effort. I thanked him for showing me his escape route and setting my mind at ease.

Clever Frog

Frogger was so clever. Our communication was going well! And my joy at having him as a companion increased until one day I offered him a proposition.

How would you like to be a star and contribute to inter-species harmony? I asked him. I’m going to write up our story and I need some photos. What that means is that there will be a flash of light and I’ll be getting pretty close to you. But you’ll be safe. I’m only admiring your good looks.

I thought I heard Frogger agree to pose, but I wasn’t sure. (It’s harder to be objective once you’re emotionally involved!)

Photo Op

The photo op would prove challenging when the new camera I used was difficult to focus correctly. I informed my wet companion of my dilemma. “It might take more than one try,” I told him. “Please be patient with me.”

He sat quite still for a full set of more than a dozen flashing photos. I plugged the camera into the computer and waited. All blurry. Drats.

When I returned from viewing the photos on the computer in another room, he hadn’t moved a muscle. “Sorry, Frogger,” I said. “But I failed this round. I need to try again.” I geared up for another round of photos.

Another dozen flashing photographs was also blurry. Drat again!

“Sorry, again,” I told him, returning from viewing the pictures. He still hadn’t moved as I proceeded to shoot a third round of photos.

Three times was a charm as the pictures materialized on the computer screen. I laughed and laughed at seeing Frogger’s face up close. He had Andy Rooney eyebrows, a wide smile, and he looked like a Chinese scholar. Humbled by my respect for his ancient species, my smile was ear to ear as I looked at his close-ups.

Giving Gratitude

I approached the bowl where he was floating in the water. “I’ve gotten the photos. Thank you for your patience,” I told him. I told him what fun and amusement it was to see his wise face. At that, he immediately dove down into the water in the bamboo bowl with a plop! He had agreed to allow me to get the photos I wanted, no matter how long it took me. But once it was done, he went swimming.

We made agreements that worked for many months.

• One or two frogs in the house at a time

• Do your business outside

• stay in the living room along the wooden flooring

• come over anytime

• and bring the kids if you want

After years in the business, I’m still not beyond being amazed at these negotiations. I was especially pleased when he went out every night to relieve himself. After just a few weeks, there was no sign of froggie poo in the house.

Symbolism of Frog

Months after Frogger became my animal companion, I was drawn to a book that helped me understand the Native American symbolism of his species. In Spirit Animals, Victoria Covell writes that frogs are all about adaptability. “If frog has chosen to appear to you, it is asking you to encourage that part of yourself that is not only open to change but understands its benefits,” she says. “Frog knows that what seems strange today, may very well be a comfortable reality tomorrow.”

Frog spirit reflects the fundamental principle that all life evolves and that nothing ever remains constant.

Victoria Covell

Safety Zone

After weeks of quiet harmony, I found Frogger early one morning outside his designated area. I was alarmed and mentioned the safety issue to him, telepathically asking that he return to the safe zone. He complied but said he had a message and was trying to get my attention. The little frog looked a little older and more gray in color. He said he had to go for a season, and that he had work to do outside. Wishing him well, I put out the invitation to others. Who might choosing to experience human love, respect and a home in the lucky bamboo next?

Nightly Chorus

I’m full of gratitude for my new friends and their nightly chorus. It rises like a wave of a million croaking voices, then crashes into silence all at once. Frog lullabies rock me to sleep. For now, I enjoy the perfect animal companionship with my amphibian friends. And of course, the many animals I work with in my daily practice.

About the Writer

Suzan Vaughn is a Pet and People Psychic Counselor with 30 years experience. She holds a B.A. in Psychology and an M.A. in Communication. Suzan works internationally by phone and in-person when appropriate. Vaughn is the owner of www.animalwhisperer.net , and author of Dispatches from the Ark: Pages from a Pet Psychic’s Notebook. Dear Oprah: Confessions of a Middle Class White Girl is her second book.