Meow, meow, meooooowwwww is the communication I best understand from my feline roommate, Deacon. It means, “Wake up! It’s time for food!” I whistle back a four-note melody that somehow—in a way long forgotten—developed to mean, “I hear you. Now, pipe down.” Deacon counters with what I call paw-based Morse code. He draws his outstretched nails across the top of my bed’s comforter three slow times, pauses, and repeats until I wake up. It is effective. I get up and feed him.
Deacon’s not alone in learning how to effectively communicate with the humans he lives with. Lots of cats and dogs have learned to interpret human gestures and tones of voice and communicate with us through gazing. Species such as dolphins and ravens have demonstrated an ability to recognize individual humans and adapt their behavior based on our actions. Honeyguide birds lead humans to beehives, hoping we will harvest the honey so they can feed on the leftover wax and larvae. Nonverbal human-animal dialogue has evolved over centuries, shaping deep bonds between humans and animals.
Interspecies dialogue often means cross-species communication too. Baboons and antelope often keep watch together. When one species detects a predator, such as a lion, they alert the other through alarm calls and body movements. Or consider a skunk’s pungent spray. It’s not just for defense—the smell serves as a warning signal to predators that they should stay away. And it works. Foxes and badgers learn to associate the skunk’s lingering scent with danger, causing them to avoid confrontation.
Fascinated by this other-than-verbal world, humans have learned to interpret animal behavior through careful observation. Body language—such as a dog’s wagging tail
or a horse’s pinned ears—reveals emotions and intent. Scientists decode bird calls and elephant rumbles, while trackers read footprints and territorial markings like a story written on the land.
Beyond these physical cues, some humans explore spiritually intuitive connections. These practices can be controversial for many reasons. Yet the practice of intuitive interspecies communication (IIC) or the rediscovery of ancient techniques suggests that we all have an inherent ability to tap into an underutilized method of dialogue. I reached out to Judy Ramsey, a shamanic animal communicator and interspecies counselor, to learn more.
Sarah Bowen: What’s shamanism, and where does it come from?
Judy Ramsey: The term shaman is Tungus (Siberian) for “one who sees in the dark” or “one who heals from the heart.” It refers to both a way of life and a spiritual practice that sees the spirit in everything, including plants, rocks, animals, places, and relationships. What we call shamanism is thousands of years old—every culture in the world has roots in some type, whether it was in the healers of Eastern Europe; the wise person in the African village; the Aboriginal tribes of Australia; the medicine person of Native America; or the Druids of Celtic origin. Shamanic practitioners live as part of All That Is, working from the inside of a great web of relationship with all of nature, not from the outside of the web looking in. They believe our spirits are not separate from every other creation or being.
What is shamanic animal communication?
The shamanic practitioner works directly with compassionate guiding spirits through shamanic journeying, a state of being similar to the trance state of deep meditation. It is truly heart-to-heart communication, with compassionate guides helping the practitioner to connect spirit-to-spirit with an animal to communicate the felt sense of their physical, mental, and emotional states, as well as of their spirit.
When I communicate shamanically, I am in a shamanic state
of mind and can be shown not only what is going on with an animal, but also the animal’s origins, environment, and relationships. For behavioral issues, I can journey to the spirit of the relationship between the animal and their person and get so much more than the single perspective of either party—including the deepest roots of the animal’s behavior, as well as what their person may be contributing.
What are the benefits for animals? For humans? For the earth?
Shamanic animal communication benefits animals because their person has more information to work with to support the entire family’s quality of life, from birth to death and beyond. The animals feel heard; they appreciate having a voice in what happens to them. The shamanic work can offer deep communication at times when [communication] is difficult—after trauma or during serious illness, when the animal is not able to clearly respond.
Humans can benefit from a closer relationship with their beloved animal, feeling that they have come to a deeper understanding. The relationship deepens and the human is more open to seeing the miracles their animal companion can show them and the gifts, the lesson their beloved offers on a daily basis.
Benefits to the earth? I’ve always thought that if everyone learned animal communication, the world would be a better place. Once the communication channels have been opened, hearts are open too. One’s human perception becomes broader and more inclusive, more aware of one’s contribution to world energy, for better or for worse. Egos begin to take a back seat as the person begins to do their inner work with their animal friend’s support. Life becomes more qualitative, and death becomes more gracious. After hospice communication and subsequent death of an animal, I have many clients tell me that they are no longer afraid of death because of that shared experience of communication and understanding.
Can anyone learn this practice?
Everyone is born with the ability to communicate with animals. It gets schooled out of us or discouraged. My own family was embarrassed by my “invisible” friends who were completely visible to me. At some point, if we’re lucky—mostly when we’re old enough not to care about what people think—we reconnect with that communication skill, that receptivity and connection to All That Is. We “get” that there is spirit in everything. It is as easy as reclaiming the gifts you were born with.
Can you share an experience of animal communication that was particularly meaningful for you?
There are many meaningful moments to remember in my 20 years of animal communication. One that stands out in my memory was when a small, yellow spider, about the size of the tip of my little finger, began to crawl across my forehead while I was lying on a bench. “Please,” I asked, “No feet on the forehead.” The spider drew back a bit and then chose a hair that dropped down into my face. We looked at each other for a few minutes. I began telling her a story of how frustrated I was and how discouraged at that moment. I asked the spider, who stayed on the hair, listening intently, for a blessing. Suddenly, I felt this surge of energy through my entire body and saw tiny red and blue pentagrams rushing through all my veins and arteries! When my shock subsided, I thanked the spider, and she threw a line and swung away from my face. [It was] only later that I learned that pentagrams are the symbol for All That Is.
When we can ask the animals to help us, we are at the halfway point to meet them and to listen to what they have to say. They will take us the rest of the way as guides and teachers.
What are some of the challenges of animal communication?
Animal communication takes focus, trust, and openness to communicate clearly, without our egos or our own traumas coloring what we hear or see. I am exposed to horrific conditions that animals have endured, including natural disasters, industrial farms or pet sources, and physical abuse and neglect. About 80 percent of my work [involves] death and dying. So, frequently, it falls to me to communicate to a person that their beloved companion is ready to leave their body, or support the grieving process of animals whose person is dying or chronically ill, resulting in being separated from their beloved.
Other challenges come in communication itself. A person’s expectations can color their perception of what an animal “should” do for them, resulting in relationship tensions that prevent understanding or solutions. Lost animals are generally confused and afraid, so getting the timeline of events or sequence of locations they have been to is difficult. Sometimes a person doesn’t want to hear what the animal is saying, especially if, for example, the lost animal doesn’t want to return home, or if something the person is doing is contributing to the animal’s distress. Being truthful, honest, and direct is a requirement of the code of ethics that communicators follow. Tact has never been my forte, but I have grown in the work.
At the end of the day, I love my work. There are many rewards. I help abused animals find their forever homes by letting rescue staff know what the animal wants in a matching family. I support holistic veterinarians with the animal’s perspective when there are few treatment options. I help families cope with their newly rescued animals and mediate solutions everyone can live with. I am grateful for this work and love to teach it
so others can experience the wonders of their companion animals.
Want more animal communication ideas? Check out these enlightened dog training tips.
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