Chinna – A Community Dog's Story
Community animals are often the silent souls among us. They live outside, often exposed to harsh weather, changing environments, and sometimes very little love or care. But they are just as sensitive, emotional, and expressive as the companion animals we have at home. I recently had a deep and moving experience with one such old community dog — Chinna. It reminded me how intuitive animal communication can be a powerful way to support our community animals.
Chinna is a gentle and wise dog who had faced many struggles in life. Despite everything, he had a strong spirit. But one day, Chinna fell very sick. His energy dropped, and his body was in pain. His caregiver, who had always done her best to look after him, reached out to me. She was very worried. She took him to the vets. But she felt helpless and guilty for not being able to do more. She asked me to connect with Chinna and understand what he was going through.
I sat down quietly and tuned in to Chinna’s energy.
What I found touched my heart deeply.
Chinna was very tired, physically and emotionally. He was in pain all over his body. He felt weak and drained. At times, he struggled to even feel present in his body. It was like he was slowly detaching from the physical world, to protect himself from the pain. But even in that low state, Chinna had the willingness to talk. That itself showed me how strong his heart still was.
He knew we were worried. He felt the love coming his way. And he was grateful — truly grateful. He said he understood that his caregiver was trying her best. He didn’t blame her at all. In fact, he believed she was doing more than he expected. He asked her not to feel guilty, because that sadness affects him too. He wanted her to be calm and positive for his greatest good.
When I asked Chinna what was hurting, he told me that it wasn’t just one area — his whole body felt heavy and sore. His muscles ached. He didn’t have much of an appetite or even feel like drinking water. He believed that something was wrong with his nervous system. That could explain the seizures he was having, which left him even more weak and scared.
Chinna had been feeling unwell for a few weeks. The sickness had not come suddenly. But he didn’t realise how serious it was until the symptoms got worse. He was still trying to heal in his own way. He was doing his best.
I asked him what he wanted his caregiver to do for him. His answer was simple: “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” He didn’t have any demands. But he did have concerns. He wasn’t sure if his body was strong enough to recover fully, even with the treatment. He wanted to try, but he was also practical. If he felt like his body couldn’t take it anymore, he said he wouldn’t fight nature. He was ready to let go, if that was what was meant to happen. But for now, he was still holding on — for her, and for the life he still hoped he could have.
To help him further, I gave Chinna some energy healing. I worked on balancing his chakras — the energy centres in his body. I could sense a lot of blocks and imbalance. His body had been through so much. Still, he was open to receiving the healing. I could feel his energy shift slowly, gently. I promised to send more healing over the next few days.
Before ending the session, Chinna shared one last message. He thanked his caregiver. He knew she was going through a tough time, with her family and other animals also needing her attention. But she still chose to care for him and bring him under her care in this difficult time. He could feel her pain when he had a seizure. But he wanted her to know that her presence was a comfort. Her love was his medicine.
If he recovers, he will be the happiest. But if he doesn’t, he wants her to know that he lived his last days in warmth, care, and love. He doesn’t want her to carry guilt. He wants her to remember that she gave him dignity, kindness, and peace.
And that matters more than anything.
In the coming days, Chinna did pass away. But the communication helped his human understand his needs and provide him with the nurturing, love, and care he needed towards the end of his journey. He was aware that his body was weak, but he showed the will to fight right until he couldn’t anymore. And when the time came, he dropped his physical body with grace and dignity — surrounded by love, and with peace in his heart.
It’s important to share that intuitive animal communication does not replace medical care. Chinna was already under veterinary treatment, and that support was essential. But communication can offer something just as valuable — a window into how the animal is feeling inside, emotionally and spiritually. It gives them a voice. That deeper understanding often helps with their healing, because when we feel seen and understood, we find strength to heal.
Why Intuitive Communication Matters for Community Animals
Many community animals cannot express their pain through words, and sometimes not even through signs we can easily read. But their souls are open. They want to be heard. When we tune in to them — not just with our ears, but with our hearts — we give them a voice. And with that voice, comes healing.
Through intuitive communication, we can understand what they are feeling. We can know what they want. Sometimes, it’s not more food or medicine. Sometimes, it’s just love, understanding, and presence.
Of course, medical care must always come first when an animal is sick or injured. But when we combine that with listening deeply, we support them on every level — body, mind, and soul.
Chinna reminded me of that. And I hope his story reminds you too.
You don’t need to be an expert to speak to animals. You just need to be still. To be open. And to be kind.
Because love — even when silent — speaks louder than words.
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