these are not Rufus
Julia had already spoken with her soul animal by the time the others started coming through. That’s how these sessions often go — one animal opens a door, and suddenly everyone wants a turn 
.
First was Pearl. Her 🌈 cat.
Pearl came in from the woods — because that’s where she hangs out now, along with a surprising number of Julia’s other animals. Family land. They’re all still there.
So, what happened? Why did she leave?
She didn’t choose to. The neighbour had put out poison — for the mice. Nobody meant for Pearl. She just happened to eat the wrong mouse. 😔
I won’t pretend that’s an easy thing to hear. But then Pearl kept going. “When she gets another cat, I will be back.” Like it was already decided. Because for her, it was.
We talked about the old house too — how Pearl kept escaping, over and over. She needed to be in the woods. She just knew where she belonged…
And her story has a twist too. Pearl came to Julia as a feral cat — hissing, scratching, absolutely no interest in being anyone’s pet. So Pearl made her work for it. Win her over. Turns out they’ve been close family across many lifetimes… and in one of them, Julia had really annoyed Pearl. Apparently revenge is served one slow bonding session at a time
And that process — earning Pearl’s trust — that’s what taught Julia to love cats. So really, everyone won.
Her instruction was pure Pearl: get another cat. Soon. “Stop thinking about it and do it.”
But her real message was bigger. Julia carries a lot of guilt — the sticky kind, the kind that attaches itself to everything. And Pearl wasn’t having it.
She said it was almost self-indulgent to think that everything was her fault.
Ouch. 😃
And then Pearl left her a reminder for when it creeps back. A gentle prick of claws on the skin. When Julia feels that, she’ll know: step away from it. Let it go.
Then a voice from the back of the woods. Rufus. The turkey.
“Yeah, let go of the guilt.”
Julia had been carrying guilt about him too. Had she been attentive enough? Had he forgiven her?
Of course he had. It was a lesson — that’s all it ever was. Done now, learned, closed.
And the claws — he’s behind those too, he said. Every time she feels that little prick, it’s from both of them. She doesn’t need him the way she thinks she does. But he’s in the woods too. Nearby. Always.
And then, at the very end of the session — after everyone else had said their piece — one more voice. Biscuit. The dog.
Four words:
“Remember to wag your tail.”
That’s it. That was her whole message.
Lighten up, love. It’s not that serious. Everything you’re worried about — wag your tail anyway.
This story was part of a HeartKIN Connection. I’ve changed names to protect my client’s privacy.
What exactly is intuition — and do you already have it? For the next 7 days, we’re going to find out by playing a very simple game: What’s in My Pocket? No guessing, no trying to be right — just noticing what comes through before your thinking mind gets a chance to edit it.
A YouTube video I almost didn’t watch, one simple exercise, and a series of synchronicities I never saw coming. Here’s how I accidentally found the “work” I love so much.
What could a robin possibly know about your self-worth? Apparently, quite a lot.
