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A Natural Connection: Animal communicator is all ears

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By Celene Adams

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Animal communicator Brigitte Noel grew up in an artificial environment that lacked genuine connection.

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Constantly moving from country to country with her father, a Swiss diplomat, and her mother, an ambitious socialite, the young Noel lived in a world that revolved around mingling with the right people at cocktail parties.

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“I didn’t understand how people could do chit chat and then just leave you,” she said. “I thought, ‘Am I not interesting? Have I said something really boring?’”

Feeling abandoned and out of place, Noel turned to a Tom cat named Moustache for companionship.

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“He would come and go, but …he was quite important to me,” she said. “He didn’t particularly pay a lot of attention to me, but there was a connection there.”

When Noel grew up, she escaped from the Swiss society she’d found so superficial, completed a Master’s degree in metaphysics and moved to San Diego, where she unhappily worked as a realtor. Yet she still felt out of her element, and her most meaningful relationships continued to be with animals: Pooka, her Persian cat, Mikey and Bobby, her orange-winged Amazon parrots, and the late Miss Acorn Annie, a horse she called her “soulmate.”

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Consequently, when Miss Annie grew ill, Noel was distraught and tried everything she knew to help her, including hiring an holistic veterinarian─a near unheard of treatment approach in the traditional horse community where Miss Annie boarded.

“I would feed [Miss Annie] certain supplements that I was getting from the holistic vet, and that was criticized, dismissed and diminished,” Noel said.

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The horse world was the only milieu Noel had ever felt close to being at home in, and it was a shock to find she didn’t fit in there either. But the holistic vet brought more than a remedy for Miss Annie. She also noticed Noel’s way of interacting with her horse.

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“You’re different with animals. Don’t you know?” Noel recalls her remarking.

It was the first time Noel had considered that being different might have some value, and so, when, shortly thereafter, she heard about a woman who specialized in animal communication, her ears pricked up.

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Intent on observing how the process worked, Noel invited the communicator to visit Miss Annie. But, because she lived out of town, the woman could only agree if Noel arranged consultations with six other horses, too.

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Noel didn’t relish the prospect of trying to convince the horse community the experience would be worthwhile. First an holistic vet, now an animal communicator? Nevertheless, within two weeks, she’d met the communicator’s quota.

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In her book, “LoveLink: Heart to Heart Communication with Animals,” Noel describes the day the communicator arrived and how it “changed [her] life.”

The communicator received information from the horses via mental pictures, “so she would describe the pictures,” Noel said.

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In one instance, for example, the communicator spoke of a horse’s gratitude for medical treatment, describing an image of a woman wearing gray sweat pants applying cream to the horse’s cinch sore.

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The horse’s caretaker, however, refused to acknowledge she had treated the wound.

“[She] got very emotional and upset and just denied it ever having happened,” Noel recalled.

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Had it not been for the fact that other people knew about the sore and that Noel herself had witnessed the woman applying salve, Noel could have lost all credibility in the community. Instead, however, “the horse's communication was validated,” she said. And “two or three others came forward [for a session with the communicator] when they heard about the results.”

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After that, Noel was determined to learn how to communicate with animals herself.

“I had always believed … the only barrier to … finding out about [the animals’] world—their emotional world, their feeling world, their thinking world—was…language,” she said.

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The communicator's visit had proved it was possible, but could she do it herself?

Throwing herself into what little material she could find to study about the subject, Noel learned that sending and receiving pictures through extrasensory perception, as the communicator had done, was how most communicators “read” animals. Yet this wasn’t what Noel wanted to do.

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“[I wanted to converse] in the here and now, going back and forth, … like a CB radio—asking the questions, getting a response,” she said.

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Not knowing how else to proceed, however, Noel began trying to read Miss Annie, who remained oblivious to her experiments.

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Yet it would be Miss Annie who, once again, took Noel by the reins: Kicked by a mare after Noel let her out to pasture, the horse was hurt, and Noel was full of self-recrimination.

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“I’m there wringing my hands, walking by her,…going how could I have let this happen?” Noel said.

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That was when, all of a sudden, she heard it: Miss Annie sent her a telepathic message. "In my mind’s eye I hear, 'Don’t worry. I’m OK,'" Noel said. And, "It truly was not me."

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Unlike reading pictures, a telepathic exchange is “a purely intuitive process that’s unfolding in the present moment …two freely sentient beings sharing their thoughts, feelings and emotions,” Noel writes in “LoveLink.”

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After realizing that telepathy comes more naturally to her than reading pictures, Noel made great strides with Miss Annie. And a few years later, in 1995, she felt confident enough in her abilities to open her Hillcrest business, All-Ears Animal Communication.

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Clients include cats, horses, rabbits, chinchillas, rats, birds, and even pigs, and sessions do not include cocktail party chit chat.  Spraying urine, adapting to newcomers, sharing toys, being treated as toys, tension between household members, food preferences and health issues are far more scintillating topics.

It’s a natural connection. And, now that Noel is keeping company in the right circles, she’s all ears.