I guess I'm not sure what it is I am conveying by submitting this most recent story, except that maybe it is my way of further confirming my ability aloud with others who have similar experiences. As I've stated in my previous stories, it's difficult to talk to my husband because he is a non-believer and chalks everything up to coincidence, so having this site to bounce ideas and stories around is very helpful. The other reason I feel the need to post this story is to ask why we aren't always given a direct answer to the cause of the feelings we have, but are only left with that vagueness to try and figure out what the definition of it is?
Last spring as I was trimming my rose bushes, I had a horrible feeling of death and foreboding. I knew that whatever it was, was going to hit close to home and who it was not going to involve, but I couldn't determine who it would involve or how. The feeling stayed with me for weeks, but after some time with nothing transpiring, I pushed it aside and attributed it to all of the flu talks that were being aired on television.
Not too long after, on a very warm July day, I came home from work to find that my black lab of nine years, who was in perfect health every day prior and who had just had a standard vet visit one month prior that he had passed with flying colors, couldn't seem to pick himself up from the floor and seemed to be in a lot of pain. I wasn't sure if it was heat stroke or what it was, but I instantly knew something was very wrong and that this was going to be the last day I was going to see him. Long story short, upon bringing him to the vet to have his condition examined, they determined that he was bleeding internally due to cancer or a splenal torsion and that regardless of what we did to correct the problem, his odds of survival during and after surgery were going to be very slim to none. Needless to say, that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. My family all came to say there goodbyes to him at the vet's office that day, and a piece of our hearts went with him.
It wasn't until about a month after that, that I figured out that the feeling of dread was completely gone and I attribute that to an inner knowing of the loss of our puppy dog. So again, why is it that we aren't always directly given the answers to our gut feelings? Is it because we aren't going to be able to do anything to rectify it anyway and it's a method of preparation for the emotions that are soon to transpire, while yet allowing us to enjoy our final moments with those we love?
I continue to be mystified and awed by this ability and I continue to have the accompanying questions, because I live with a non-believer who when I do ask these questions looks at me as though I have a hole in my head.