What to Expect from a Pet Psychic Reading
On animal communication sessions, what comes through, and how to prepare
Most people who find their way to a pet psychic reading arrive the same way I did — after running out of other explanations.
My dog Stanley had been chewing his paws for years. I tried everything: dietary changes, allergy testing, holistic remedies, more vet visits than I can count. Nothing worked. After three different people mentioned a pet psychic to me, I had to take notice. One session changed everything. Not because it was dramatic — but because it felt emotionally true.
What came through wasn't vague reassurance. It was specific, and it landed on something I'd already sensed but couldn't name: that Stanley's behavior had an emotional component, and that my own stress was part of what was moving between us. Once I understood that — and became more mindful of what I was carrying around him — his paw chewing stopped.
That was the moment I understood what a pet psychic actually does. And probably not what most people imagine.
What animal communication actually is
At its core, it's listening.
In practice, it's a quiet, focused two-directional connection — thoughts, feelings, images, physical sensations, and sometimes something harder to define. A direct sense of something that simply lands as true.
Your animal doesn't need to be in the room. I work from a photo, and from there the connection opens. What I'm always attending to is what comes directly from them — not what seems likely, not what I'm projecting. That discernment is the center of the work.
What comes through is usually very much them. Their personality, their perspective, what they want you to understand. Animals have opinions. They notice more than most people expect. And when they have something to say — about a behavior, about a dynamic, about how they experience their life with you — being heard can shift things for them as much as it does for you.
Learn more about animal communication
How to prepare
Once you've booked, I'll ask for a photo of your animal, along with their name, description, and breed. That's all I need to make the connection.
It helps to spend a few minutes beforehand thinking about what you most want to understand — what's been puzzling you, what's changed, what you've noticed. Some people come with specific questions. Others come with: something feels off and I can't explain it. Either is fine. And before we begin I'll ask what you most want from the session — that shapes how we work together, what we focus on, where we start.
On my end, I prepare too — setting aside my own noise so I can actually hear what's there. Some animals arrive ready and eager to talk. Others are quieter, more cautious. A little curiosity and a gently held space goes a long way with both.
What happens in a pet psychic session
Sessions are held online, by Zoom or phone — so you can be somewhere quiet and private, wherever you are.
The first moments of a session are when I get a glimpse of their personality. Cautious, confident, witty, funny. I laugh often — because when an animal's personality comes through so clearly it catches me off guard. It is that real.
Every session is different from there. What the animal shares might be behavioral — caused by fear, stress, a reaction to change. It might be about the relationship between animal and human. It might reach into something neither of you has had language for.
Sometimes what's needed is practical and specific. A client came to me because her cat had stopped using the litter box entirely. What I heard was very direct — the cat had specific requests. A safe space in the upstairs closet, away from the activity of the house. The litter box moved to under the stairs in the basement. A bed under the dining room table if possible. The cat wanted its own spaces, quiet and removed from the household's flow. The client messaged me a few weeks later — she had gone back to her notes and followed them exactly. Within a day everything shifted. The cat used the litter box for the first time in longer than she could remember.
Other times it is more complex. A client came to me for what she described as a family discussion — she had three cats, a newer one who had been bullying the other two, and she wanted everyone heard before making a decision. She already had an alternate home lined up for the newcomer but wasn't sure it was the right choice, and she wanted to know how each of her cats felt about it. We did exactly that. Listened to each of them in turn. What became clear was that rehoming was the right decision — difficult, but right. The two who remained settled. And when I later connected with the cat who had moved, he was clear: he liked having the attention to himself, liked not sharing the space. He was fine. Better than fine.
Another client had been doing her own inner work for some time. She already sensed the dynamic with her young Malinois mix was about more than training — the resistance on walks, the push and pull between them. What came through confirmed it. Her beloved dog hadn't come into her life to be managed. He'd come to teach her something — about certainty, about the energy she was bringing into her body before she ever clipped on the leash. She recognized something in herself. And from there, his behavior changed. Walks became easier. She described it as things feeling gentler — like she no longer had to prove herself to him.
Learn more about pet psychic readings
If grief is what you're carrying
Working with people during loss means a great deal to me — not only because I understand what it is to lose a pet, but because grief is a tender time that shows our truest selves. The love that surfaces in those moments is real, and it deserves to be met with care.
Most people come to me a few days, weeks, or months after losing their animal. They want to know their pet is okay. They want some clarity around what happened, and comfort about where they are now.
What I often find is that their animal companion is still there — not to perform a reunion, but simply wanting you to know they haven't gone. That matters. But I'm working as both an animal communicator and a psychic medium in these moments, and what I'm equally attending to is you — what you're moving through, and what you need in order to find your way through it.
Sometimes the grief opens into something older than this particular loss. A pattern, a connection, a history between you that finally has a name. When that arrives, it can become something you carry forward — a different kind of knowing.
Learn more about pet loss and mediumship
What you might notice afterward
People describe the end of a session in different ways. Some feel clarity. Some feel lighter. Some feel emotion they weren't expecting — which is entirely welcome.
Sometimes what comes through doesn't land immediately. It shows up later, in a small shift in your animal's behavior, or in how you see them differently now that you know what to look for. I always encourage people to give it time.
What I find again and again is that a session rarely ends where people expected it to. They arrive with one question and something else entirely opens. That's not a detour. It's usually the point of it.
Lesley Ames is a psychic medium, certified animal communicator, and pet psychic based in Seattle and the Pacific Northwest. She offers pet psychic readings and animal communication sessions online, working with clients in Seattle, Chicago, and nationwide — with living animals, animals who have passed, and the people who love them. Learn more or book a session at lesleyames.com.