Zeus

I mentioned in my post Crossing Over, that I’d share the reading of the dog that hadn’t crossed over.

First, please know, it’s rare that a pet doesn’t cross over. My fear is that I’m going to write this story, and folks all over are going to worry that their passed pets are hanging in limbo somewhere. Your sweetheart is on the other side. Don’t worry.

This is Zeus. Zeus is a big German Shepherd. I met Zeus a long time ago, at a Thanksgiving dinner. He was anxious and had a big bark. That’s all I remember about him. His family struggled with his aggression issues. They found him a new home, but when it didn’t work out, they took him back and finally felt like they had to put him to sleep.

A few weeks ago, Zeus’s mom read Apache’s story, and decided that she needed to reach out to Zeus, to tell him how much she loved him, and that she was hopeful that he was happy on the other side.

It took a little while to reach Zeus. I told him who I was, and that his mom asked me to talk with him. He still seemed sad and anxious.  I said, “Your mom wants you to know that she loves you, and that she’s sorry that things worked out the way they did. How are you feeling about things?”

Zeus said, ” I was really sad, and I missed my family. I wasn’t sure what I did wrong.”

I said, “Well, you were aggressive, weren’t you?”

(Please know, I say these things sensitively, not accusingly. I try to be truthful and sensitive. It’s not always easy).

I sent him a movie clip of himself lunging at someone at the door.

“No, I was protective. My mom was scared and it was my job to keep her safe.”

I got a picture of the living room and dining room of Zeus’s family home. The picture had a black haze over it.

“Okay,” I said. “Tell me more about your mom.”

“My mom really loved me. She loved to see my face. She would laugh at me because she loved me so much.”

“Your mom wants you to know that she’s sorry.”

I felt my body fill up with anguish, and my head hurt and I felt nauseous. I thought I about breaking away. I didn’t understand, because if Zeus passed, he’d be happy. Where was he?

“Zeus? Did you cross over?”

“No.”

“Zeus, you need to cross over, right now.”

“No. I won’t. I won’t see my mom if I cross over, and I won’t get to go for rides in the car.”

I sent up a silent prayer, please God help us.

“Buddy, you’ll be able to see your mom, but you won’t feel so bad. You’ll be free of your pain if you cross over.”

“No.”

I said, “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

I called Zeus’s mom, Jill.

“Jill, Zeus didn’t cross over.”

“What?”

“He’s there with you. He doesn’t want to leave you.”

“Where is he?” she asked.

“He’s there with you. He wants to stay with you. He likes to go for rides in the car.”

“Where does he sit?” she asked.

“He’s in spirit form, he sits wherever he wants. He needs to cross over.”

“What do we do?”

“Ask him to cross over.”

“Tell him to go towards the light?” she asked.

I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. I didn’t know if he saw a light. Hollywood has prepared us so well to deal with ghosts.

“Tell him you love him and that he needs to cross over.”

“Okay.”

I got off the phone and prayed, and worried, helpless to make a dog cross over. I said, “Oh God, I don’t want to spend all day with this dog, trying to figure out how to get him to the other side.”

Then I remembered that my intuitive healer Jennifer has told me to thank God for already giving me what I need, so I said, “God, thank you for helping Zeus to the other side.”

I contacted Zeus.

“Zeus. Are you there?”

“I’m here!” he shouted. “I’m running!’  He showed me the green grass of heaven. “I crossed over!” He was in the initial throes of heaven, feeling overwhelming relief and joy.

“Fishbone is here!”   Fishbone was Zeus’s cat friend on earth, who passed away a few years ago. He showed me Fishbone’s legs running ahead of him.

“Zeus! I am so happy for you!”

I can never stay long in heaven. I get the message loud and clear that I am just visiting.

Zeus knew that my time with him was brief.

“Tell my mom I’m okay. Tell her I’m sorry that it was so difficult. Tell her I’ll visit!”

Zeus, in heaven, with compassion for his mom on earth.

Zeus showed me a lake that he was running towards. Then he was above it. “I’m flying!” He shouted.

I left Zeus among the clouds, and called Jill back, and we shared in the happiness of a dog on the other side.

Later she told me that she hadn’t mourned Zeus until after he crossed over. She said that she often wondered why she wasn’t able to grieve for him. Some part of her always knew that he was there, and that the conflicting feelings weren’t resolved.

In hindsight, I think the black haze was Zeus in the living room, in his ghost form. I think he was trying to show me his experience.

I’m not one to espouse my faith. Faith is a personal journey. I hope you find this thought helpful: there is a verse in the bible about God taking care of sparrows. God takes care of  sparrows, also Zeus’s and Bridgets and Jills and you. Take heart knowing that even when life is hard, you are in the hands of someone infinitely large and caring.