I have six animals, so yes, life with them can be pretty intense, when you know that they all do their best to teach you something.
During my grieving for Killa, something began to shift in my relationship with my dog Onyx. It is something I have wanted to share with you because I am still amazed by what has happened between us over these past weeks.
Nearly four years ago, we rescued a little black puppy from the street and named him Onyx. From the beginning, I knew he was going to be a big, very strong dog. I just had no idea how strong.
My tenant at the time told me that Onyx might have fighting-dog genes, which honestly terrified me. I have my own history and fears around certain powerful dogs, and I was particularly afraid of fighting dogs and German Shepherds. Little did I know that Onyx would grow into a Belgian Shepherd himself, a highly intelligent and incredibly strong dog.
He came into our lives during another challenging period, as so often happens. And then, just a couple of days after we rescued him, my son was bitten by a dog by a fighting dog. Thankfully, the scare was bigger than the physical wound, but he was just 4 years old.
For that reason, I wasn't able to socialise Onyx like I had wanted to when he was young, and he became very anxious around other male dogs. I often perceived him as aggressive, and I didn't really know how to handle the situation.
But about half a year ago, things became even more difficult when another dog attacked him really badly while he was on the leash. Perhaps some of you remember my post about that experience. It left me in a state of complete panic, disempowerment and helplessness. Onyx had been to dog training before, but after the attack, I no longer felt confident enough to take him out. I didn't know how to handle the situation, and training wasn't something I felt able to take on at that moment.
I remember hearing myself say, “I can't. I'm scared. I'm terrified.”
And I really was. Whenever I encountered certain dogs, especially big German Shepherds, I felt my whole body tense up. Which is quite funny in a way, because I am German myself! And of course, German Shepherds are beautiful dogs. They can be incredibly protective, too. But in my world at that time, they had become something to fear.
I wanted to protect Onyx from all those dogs out there that I perceived as dangerous. But I was so frightened myself that I didn't feel capable of protecting him.
And then, just recently, I began to understand something that changed the way I saw our relationship.
We were both caught up in the same struggle: Who is going to protect whom?
Onyx wanted to protect me. Whenever we approached a bigger dog, he could feel my tension. And I imagined him thinking, “Oh my God, my mommy is so tense. I need to protect her.”
Meanwhile, I was thinking that I had to protect him from every potentially dangerous dog we might encounter. We were both on alert, both trying to protect the other, and neither of us seemed to feel truly safe.
With the help of an animal communicator friend, I received an insight from Onyx that led me back to something I had experienced as a very small child, a time when I had not felt protected.
When I was two years old, I burned myself with boiling water and had to be taken to hospital. Growing up in East Germany, this meant spending two weeks in hospital, tied to a bed and without my parents being allowed to accompany me.
Imagine that for a moment. A two-year-old child, in pain, frightened and alone, without the people she needs to feel safe. Terror, fear, panic, helplessness. No familiar arms to hold her, no mother or father beside her to reassure her that everything would be all right.
I knew there were things from my childhood that I still needed to work through, but I had never quite connected this experience with what was happening between Onyx and me.
And he brought me there. I was ready to fully understand and heal that experience.
I began to embrace that little girl inside me and give space to what she had experienced. I did rituals, somatic work with my body, allowed myself to express emotions that had been held inside for a long time, and spent a lot of time writing and journaling.
I didn't expect everything to change overnight. But just a couple of weeks ago, I began noticing something different.
I hear him say “Take me out for a walk.” And so I do. And I am calmer.
When I see another dog, I don't immediately go into the same state of fear and tension. I can breathe, stay more present and respond differently. And Onyx seems calmer, too. We are taking small steps, walking a little further each time.
I even have a protective stick that I take with me. My magic stick, as I like to call it. I created it some time ago, and it helps me feel safer. And for now, that is part of our journey, too.
When we do encounter other dogs, I notice that I am no longer reacting in quite the same way. It might sound like a small thing to some people, but for me, it is huge.
For such a long time, I have wanted to travel with Onyx, to take him places, to go for walks without constantly worrying about what might happen, and simply to enjoy life together. I didn't want to keep hiding away or feel so frightened every time we went outside.
And now, for the first time in a long while, I can actually imagine that life becoming possible.
It feels like a miracle, even though I know we are only taking the first steps.
As a soul-level animal communicator, I have spent more than ten years listening to animals and helping people understand their messages. I believe that animals come into our lives with their own soul lessons, and that the love they offer us can open doors to parts of ourselves we might otherwise never have discovered.
But this doesn't mean I have everything figured out. Far from it.
I am constantly learning from my own animals. And sometimes the lessons they bring us are not at all what we expect.
There is something else I have been noticing lately. Onyx has become sensitive in his strength, and sometimes when I look at him, I feel my beloved Inti, who passed away some years ago, so strongly.
Inti taught me to walk in the light and to be strong through my presence. And now, when I look at Onyx, I sometimes feel as though Inti is right there with us, reminding me of what I already know deep inside but am still learning to embody.
To stay present and to trust myself, tTo stand in my own strength without living in fear.
I find it amazing how life brings these lessons to us through the animals we love, sometimes in ways that challenge us deeply, and sometimes through the smallest changes that make everyday life feel possible again.
We saved each other. And we are still learning how to live more freely together.
And if you feel that your own animal has something to communicate to you, whether they are here by your side or have already crossed over, I would be happy to support you in understanding their messages.