Talking to animals: Why do Mr. Bingley and other beasts behave badly? Ask the pet telepath
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Bingley is not a bad dog, he just enjoys doing bad things.
Such as, chewing the bay window frame in the dining room. Gnawing a hole in the drywall. Nipping the ears of Pre, his fellow canine housemate.
What is going on in this dog's head? Allow Renee Takacs to explain:
"Some of it is just puppy energy, but I just felt [his] vital energy that came through me, like 'I have to do something with this,' " she said.
Ms. Takacs is an intuitive consultant, or telepath, for both people and pets. She recently spent an hour in relaxed conversation with Bingley, a 14-month-old whippet. Like his namesake, Mr. Bingley of Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice," he is constantly cheerful.
Unlike Mr. Darcy's best friend, our Bingley has yet to grasp the concept of manners.
As a puppy, he and his litter mates were segregated, with their mother, from his breeders' other dogs. Bingley came to our family in mid-February, where the snows of winter did not encourage leisurely neighborhood walks and the chance to meet others of his tail-wagging kind.
So he did -- still does -- tend to go wild when meeting new friends. Two dog trainers gave us excellent advice on helping him become more socialized, and he has made progress.
But who could pass up a chance to "talk" to him through Ms. Takacs, who conducts consultations in her Mars office suite?
Bingley and I drove up from the South Hills one rainy morning. He was jittery -- not a fan of car rides -- but Ms. Takacs said many animals attain a state of relaxation during the consultation.
After a quick sniff around the offices, Bing seemed a little happier, and so we began. Ms. Takacs started off by asking permission to speak -- this done with eyes and mouth closed. Communication, she said later, is "mind to mind, heart to heart ... that's why there are pauses of silence."
Bingley was up for a talk. Ms. Takacs said, in a soothing voice, she was going to ask how he felt in general.
As she predicted, Bingley soon chilled, slowly stretching out on the floor.
First impressions came to her in images and feelings, large and small: Ms. Takacs said she sensed Bingley has great potential for personal growth, something big that was not yet in blossom. Also, "he says he likes people, and he wants you to know that."
She also sensed "there is another dog he seems to like that can be a bit much for him. And this dog appears to be brown-colored, maybe with long fur ... can you place the dog? Medium-sized, a darker fur."
There are many dogs in our neighborhood, but the two in adjacent yards are both dark and long-haired.
More surprising was what came next. "He's showing me an image, outside. I know we don't have waterfalls in this area, but there is running water. He is showing me water moving in a small area."
Let's pause right here to consider yes, one could take just about anything Bingley "says" and adapt it to fit the isn't-this-amazing mode. But it was rather startling, given that a few days earlier, he had been all eager to "help" me disassemble a small water feature on the back patio.
Bingley also said he misses a "young man, medium-tall, with a kind of a deep voice." This person was kind to him -- could it be my nephew, Kyle, who last summer visited regularly to let out the dogs and play with them?
As for chewing everything from magazines to table legs when the family is away at work and school, well, we already knew he gets bored and we try to create a safely interesting environment. Bingley apparently knows it, as well: "He says that he is very intelligent and does need to be stimulated."
As for roughhousing with both the greyhound and Albert, the cat?
"As much as I keep explaining to Bingley, 'Thank you for keeping your mouth to yourself and keeping it gentle,' he seems to feel that Pre has the opportunity to develop a little more chutzpah," Ms. Takacs said.
"Pre just 'feels' older [he is, in fact 9] and the energy is really different."
Growls don't deter Bingley when he's on a roll, and neither do whacks across the face from the cat.
"In our human perception, we learn that if someone hurts me, we are not going to go back there," Ms. Takacs said. "But he wants to make friends. He considers Albert his playmate."
Looks like Bingley is being stubborn on this one, she said. "He is saying he's not a slow learner and it's not like he doesn't 'get it,' he just doesn't want to give up [trying to win over the cat]."
"If Albert scratches his face five times, he would still not hold it against him."
Ms. Takacs, 50, said she has been telepathic since childhood, when she saw the vision of a relative long dead. It was only about seven years ago, however, that she discovered she could communicate with animals as well.
"I happened to be invited to a home where a woman was having a gathering and I did their intuitive consultations," she said. "The hostess jokingly said, 'You'll have to read for our dog, it has issues.' "
The dog, she said, told her he missed his bacon-flavored snacks.
"The woman's boyfriend at the time, his jaw dropped. He said 'I can't believe you're saying that; we've had his bacon treats on the grocery list for six weeks now and everybody keeps forgetting to pick it up.' "
Of course, the dog did not say the word "bacon," Ms. Takacs said: "It works through images and feelings."
Besides a business degree from Robert Morris University, she has a master's in transpersonal studies from Atlantic University in Virginia. Unlike Dr. Doolittle, there is no DVM required to talk to the animals.
Different species have their own "frequencies," she said, like dialing a radio with a variety of stations. Dogs are "earthy," cats "ethereal."
Annie Heid of Reserve is a breeder of cocker spaniels. After one of her dogs, Ralph, died young, "it threw me for a loop," she said.
She was at her vet's office when she came across information for alternative services and figured it was worth a try.
"I don't think I even said two words to her, and she knew I had chimes in the bedroom; she said the dog loved to listen to them when the wind blew."
Ms. Takacs comforted the woman, telling her that Ralph was fine and that he remembered Mrs. Heid doing something to his feet on the grooming table, he didn't know why.
"He had something wrong with them, and I used to work on them every day," Mrs. Heid said. "This just eased my mind."
Ms. Takacs also has consulted with other animals for Mrs. Heid, including her horse. At first, the client was reluctant to tell anyone she was "talking" to her animals through a telepath, but then a good friend ("Who is very staunch," Mrs. Heid said) responded "Oh Renee, I go to her all the time."
Consultation fees generally run $75 for a half-hour visit or phone session, $130 for an hour. Ms. Takacs also offers healing arts and stress reduction programs such as reiki.
More information: call 724-625-6693 or go to www.intuitguide.com .
Marion Billeter of West View visited Ms. Takacs after the death of the family's first dog, a collie shepherd mix, and has had numerous consultations involving people and pets alike.
"She just knows things there is no way she could know," said Mrs. Billeter. More recently, the family's cat was having adjustments problems to a new dog and began urinating on the furniture.
Her husband agreed to give Ms. Takacs one shot at telling the cat to please stop, they all loved her but if she didn't, she would be sent to a new home.
"No lie, [the cat] never did it again. People think I'm crazy, but she never did it again," Mrs. Billeter said.
Reptiles and birds are more basic in their wants and needs: an iguana once told Ms. Takacs he was cold, despite being in a room full of windows. Its owner did not realize the air conditioning was up too high.
A tiny lizard complained that its food tasted "gritty." Ms. Takacs suggested to the mother of the young owner that perhaps they could put the meal worms on a plate rather than dropping them right into the terrarium's sandy floor.
But she cautions against owners hoping to assign anthropomorphic characteristics to pets. Creatures have different kinds of spirits and personalities, she said, but human features don't apply here: "We cannot project that on an animal."
Ms. Takacs is clearly an animal lover, but she will concede that not all pets share a kind spirit. She once did a consultation with a pair of "dangerously aggressive" dogs that had bitten neighbors; the owner's vet recommended putting them down.
"I owe the animal the opportunity to share its story and to give it a voice, and to listen. And I owe the person exactly what the animal is saying, and any intuitive impressions."
After connecting with these dogs, she said, she recognized "neurological damage" and sadly agreed with the vet. The owner declined her advice.
Ms. Takacs, who said she can connect with both people and pets who have died, said that physical death need not be an end to consciousness: "If we can realize that when we leave this earthly plane, we go home to spirit, it's OK to release an animal that might have faulty genetics."
Thankfully, Bingley wasn't giving off any kind of vibe other than "Let's play! Let's play!" -- "He thinks he is a likable dog," Ms. Takacs said, laughing, "And he is."
Turns out, our dog has an agenda. I asked Ms. Takacs to discover why, after a long day of work (and playtime for Bingley), he persists in dropping dirty tennis balls on the couch if I'm trying to watch television.
"He loves you dearly, and respects you, but there is a part of him that wants to bring out your inner kid," she said. "It's about having fun."
A dog is telling me to lighten up? Why that's actually ... pretty smart. Maybe there's hope for him yet.
First Published December 14, 2011 12:00 am












