I Went To A Pet Psychic To Be A Better Dog Mom

I never thought I’d talk to a pet psychic, and I definitely didn’t expect to find out my dog gets annoyed when I forget to trim his bangs, but here I am. As it turns out, my adopted Maltese mix has a lot to say, just like me, his very chatty mom. After talking to a medium who also specializes in pet readings, I learned more about his past, what he does (and doesn’t) like about our apartment, and why he hates when I scroll TikTok.

It all went down during a 30-minute Zoom session with Brandi Van, a psychic medium and professional pet communicator. For the experience, she charges $80 for a half-hour pet reading. Before we met up, Van asked for a picture of my dog, Oscar, and meditated for a few minutes prior to the call, which she says helps her tune into your pet.

During the reading, Van didn’t need to see Oscar on screen (I was fully ready for him to have a starring moment on camera), but instead looked into his eyes in the photo. “They’re truly the windows of the soul,” she says, and it’s also what allows her to speak to pets who have already passed on. Looking at the photo, she envisions a golden light traveling between herself and the pet, and asks for permission to communicate for them.

Van taps into her clairvoyance during readings, which she says feels like someone else’s thoughts coming into her head. “People are always like, ‘But pets don't speak English. They don't know how to talk,’ but it's amazing how ‘spirit’ works,” she says. “At first they're like, ‘Who are you, lady? What do you want?’ So I have to let them know that their mom gave me permission to come into their energy field, I don't mean any harm, it's not going to hurt — we just want to hear what you have to say.”

The first thing she called out was that my short, stocky, 20-pound mutt is very much a gentle giant. “He thinks he's bigger than he is in terms of protection,” she tells me, and it’s totally true. Most of the time, he’s sleeping upside down on my bed — often with his underbite showing — but definitely has moments outside where he acts like he’s a German Shepherd.

After her initial assessment of his personality, Van let me ask questions, and after each one, she would take a moment to look at Oscar’s picture and decipher what he was saying. One thing I had to know was why he’ll wake from a heavy snooze to leave the room when I scroll social media, especially if he hears a screenshot or camera noise. (God forbid I watch reruns of America’s Next Top Model.)

“You know when someone comes home and they have a garage door opener and you hear the garage click? That's what I'm getting from him,” she says to this question. “That sound is almost giving him this vibe of a garage door opening.”

She went on to say his old owners weren’t very nice, so he dreaded that noise — learning this made my stomach sink — but assured me nothing too traumatic happened in his past. “He just feels like he wasn't as loved in that home. He didn't know that it was a bad past until he came to you. He's basically saying, ‘This is real love. This is what I'm supposed to feel like at home.’” Anyone else crying?

I went down a list of everything I’ve ever wanted to know about Oscar — how old he is, how he became a stray, any fears he has, if he likes our apartment — and Van answered each one. Not only was I fascinated, but it was also extremely helpful. I wanted to use this info to make lifestyle adjustments to ensure his happiness. I’ll now be wearing headphones anytime I open TikTok, for one.

As another example, Van said Oscar was telling her about his food bowls and how he hates that they move. Shockingly, I had just sent a video to my mom of Oscar pushing his metal bowl across the kitchen floor. She recommended I get a mat or a food bowl stand. Done and done.

The reading felt very much like a two-way conversation, versus Van just seeing visions. She would get details from Oscar, like how he doesn’t like his food bowl, and then I would say, “I wonder if he’s referring to X, Y, and Z.” It felt like a mutual effort to uncover what Oscar was hinting at and it truly helped me unpack some of his deeper mysteries.

One moment that truly stood out? Van noted that Oscar doesn’t like baths (very true) but that he loves water, which felt hyper-specific and spookily accurate. Oscar loves to be in water, even though he doesn’t have a single ounce of water dog DNA, and I’ve always found it so surprising.

One time, I took him to a lake for a casual walk, and he reacted by immediately plunging his entire head under the water. Another time, I took him to the beach and never saw him happier as he ran in the waves and bit at the bubbles. I always joke he’s my little Pisces, so it was fascinating that she picked up on that.

She also clocked that he likes to watch dogs but not interact with them (we often pass by the dog park just so he can see inside), zeroed in on a rare health issue he had last year, and said that he loves to sit in the park with me. As an astrology and tarot lover, I was excited by these details, and even my more skeptical side was wowed.

We ended the session by asking Oscar if he had any final thoughts he wanted to share, and he totally called me out by telling Van I often seem stressed and he wishes I weren’t. (Working on it, my dude.) As a dog mom, I’ve always wished I could have a conversation with Oscar, but after this reading, I feel like I have.

Source:

Brandi Van, psychic medium, professional pet communicator