An Insight Into Death From an Animal's Perspective

TW: Death

I recently had a powerful reading with an animal who had passed away, and it provided some truly eye-opening insights on the subject of death.

This animal had left her physical body not long ago, and her owner was struggling with feelings of guilt and sadness, questioning whether they had done enough to save her. But during our communication, the animal expressed confusion about her owner's grief, even feeling a little frustrated. Not because she didn’t appreciate the love and care she'd received—quite the opposite—but because, from her perspective, she hadn’t gone anywhere. She hadn’t left the family; she’d merely "dropped her physical body," as she put it.

To this animal, death wasn’t a separation or an end. She was still present in the home, still part of the family’s daily life, just without her physical form. In fact, her family had noticed her presence, convinced they’d seen glimpses of her moving around the house. To her, death wasn’t sad—it was simply a shift in her existence.

She shared something profound: that part of her journey in this body was to experience a young death. While this might sound shocking to us, she felt peace with her choice of when to pass on. Her words to her owner were clear: "No regrets." She was content with her life, and her death was simply a natural continuation of her experience. Her owner, initially consumed with sorrow, found some peace in knowing this.

For many of us, this can be a difficult concept to grasp. Culturally, we’re taught to fear death, to avoid talking about it, and to treat it as something final and scary. But for animals, death is much different. It’s not an end, but a transition.

This ties into the Law of Conservation of Energy—a principle in physics that states energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed. This applies not just to matter and motion, but to life itself. When a physical body dies, the energy that animates it simply changes form. This is something animals seem to intuitively understand. They don’t fear death the way we do; instead, they accept it as a part of their journey. That’s not to say they’re eager to die—far from it—but they see passing from a physical form to an energetic one as a natural process, no different from breathing.

Through my experiences communicating with animals, I’ve learned that death is not the end. Yes, the loss of the physical presence is real and painful for those of us still living in this mortal existence, but our animals continue to stay close. Many animals continue to visit their loved ones, enjoying the freedom that comes without a body. They can go wherever they want—join you on errands, sit with you at work, or snuggle beside you on the sofa—without the limitations of a physical form. They remain a part of our energetic space, still sharing in the love that connects us.

What I’ve come to understand is that while we must allow ourselves to grieve and process the physical loss, we should also take comfort in the knowledge that our animals are still with us, watching over us, and choosing to stay near. Their journey isn’t over, and neither is our connection with them.