By Alex Mendiola, Ontario, Canada
Life gave me an unexpected gift that changed my consciousness and my life completely. A dog was about to teach me that dogs are Soul too and reincarnation is real.
When I was moving from Vancouver back home to Toronto, I dreamed about getting my first dog. I had a feeling that the right one was coming my way.
Soon after the move, I got a nudge to check out a litter of German-shepherd and Malamute-mix puppies. I sent my mom a picture of the puppies. She was hesitant when I said, “We’re getting a dog” but admitted liking the only brown puppy in the photo.
On my visit to meet the pups, I had no expectations. Picking up one of them, I thought, You’re cute but not the one.
I then picked up the brown puppy my mother had been drawn to in the photo of the litter. This pup immediately licked my fingers and snuggled into my arms. My heart was wide open. I’d found my dog.
I named her Chi, the only name she responded to—by winking at me every time I said it.
Chi Reveals Her Purpose
The day after Chi came home, she vomited blood. I rushed her to the veterinarian. The vet said, “She might have a virus that is lethal to puppies.” So I left her at the clinic for treatment.
That night, as I lay in bed, I thought, If I was meant to be with Chi for this one day, it has been an amazing gift from God. I’m thankful for the love we shared.
It turned out that Chi had parasites and recovered. But the following year brought even more anxiety. We made many visits to the vet. I spent a lot of money, trying to fix her health issues. Excellent health practitioners—vets, naturopaths, chiropractors, and specialists—helped me deal with Chi’s physical problems. An animal communicator bridged communication between this Soul and me, as we faced our challenges together.
Chi had a way of pushing all my buttons. She chewed eyeglasses and relieved herself in the house even after we’d taken a long walk. Through the animal communicator, I asked, “Why are you making my life so hard?”
She replied, “You know, Alex, you’re like a glass that looks clear. But on the inside it needs to be cleaned.”
Now I can see how Chi’s purpose was to quicken my spiritual growth. At the time, though, I didn’t fully accept her meddling in my life.
A Tough Twist in Chi’s Journey
When Chi turned a year old, she started to develop epilepsy. Treatments from her vast network of health practitioners helped for a while, but gradually her seizures became more violent and frequent and lasted longer. I was afraid of losing her and felt hopeless. Everything I’d tried was not helping.
During ongoing sessions with the animal communicator, I kept Chi in the loop and talked with her about how having multiple violent seizures every day meant she would have to be put down (euthanized). I asked, “Are you ready to leave this body?”
She responded, “I accept it if I have to go. But promise me you’ll learn the lesson I am here to teach you, even after I’m gone.” I was puzzled about what that lesson was.
I also asked, “Where would you like to be when you leave the body? At the vet or at home?”
She said, “I don’t care where I am, as long as my people are there.”
We made a plan to spend two more days together before putting her to sleep. On the last day I’d place all my attention on her. And I’d make sure Chi’s people—friends who loved her—would be able to say good-bye.
Fulfilling Chi’s Wishes
The next day I came home from work and found Chi crying. She had ripped a wound in her foot during a seizure. I contemplated on what to do, and a few minutes later all of the main people who loved Chi started to arrive at my house. I’d forgotten that I’d invited one of them to visit us. And that person brought others who loved Chi dearly.
Hurriedly I called the animal communicator, and she helped me say to Chi, “I think it’s time for you to go to sleep. We are all here with you.”
“But you promised me one more day!”
“I know, baby, but you did say you wanted your people with you when you go. The ECK brought all of us together. It’s important that we are with you.”
Chi was silent.
I felt Chi’s translation (as death is called in Eckankar) would be an important rite of passage for this Soul. In that moment I knew, deep within, that death is not about loss; it is a gateway to the freedom of Soul. The shell that was Chi’s body wasn’t working anymore and was causing her pain and suffering.
“We love you so much, Chi.”
“I love you all too,” she said.
Before we left for the clinic, I took Chi by her favorite dog park one more time. I felt so much love for this dog and gratitude for her life. As we drove, I played the recorded sound of voices singing HU, using the HU App on my phone. I sang HU softly to Chi. It felt as if a blanket of love surrounded us.
When we arrived at the clinic, my family and I took a lot of photos with Chi and gave her hugs and kisses. The vet techs took her to a back room in preparation for the procedure while I waited. When she returned, she was pleased that they’d given her cat food to eat.
Chi was living purely in the present moment with no focus on what was to come. During our last moments together, I hugged her from behind and placed my hand on her heart. The rest of my family gave all their love too. I sang HU softly to surrender and let divine love flow through.
Once her last heartbeat stopped, I felt an electrified buzzing on my skin. The room filled with so much love that it seemed as if we were in a dream. I looked at Chi’s body. She wasn’t there anymore. I couldn’t help but smile as I clearly still felt her presence. Not as the empty shell she’d left, but as Soul—the eternal being we each truly are.
It was really hard coming home and adjusting to a new life without Chi. There was no longer the presence of a being giving me the unconditional love and affection I’d grown used to. Yet I continued to feel her love, like a tickle in my heart, more as each day passed.
Exactly two weeks after Chi left, the feeling of her love stopped abruptly.
I immediately did a spiritual exercise by singing HU. Via my Spiritual Eye during contemplation, I saw a black piglet-looking puppy and heard the words, “Chi already reincarnated. She was born on December 2, and her picture will be posted on Kijiji in a few days.”
A few days later I clicked on the Kijiji classified-ad link and, exactly as in my dream, saw a photo of the piglet-looking dog. This pup was a purebred female German shepherd born on December 2. I was amazed!
Even so, after everything I’d been through emotionally with Chi and all the anxiety and expense of caring for her, I wasn’t ready. It’s time to focus on myself, I thought. I should wait a few years before getting another dog.
Over the next few weeks, I kept dreaming of Chi. I believe this Soul was telling me to bring her back home. I asked the ECK if I should check out the puppies and to give me a sign by showing me the word Chi.
Soon after, I watched the Miss Universe contest and saw the word Chi printed all along a banner behind the winner. Then I began noticing restaurants with the word Chi as part of their names—Chi Asian Tapas, Chi Ramen, etc.
I decided to check out the puppies.
Is That You?
When I arrived at the house where the litter lived, I felt confused. All the puppies looked the same. But out of nine puppies, only one paid attention to me, by licking my fingers. She was the one I saw in my dream and in the Kijiji posting.
I picked up this tiny pup, the runt of the litter, and carried her like a baby. She snuggled in my arms, moaned, opened one eye slowly, and then went to sleep.
After I told my story about Chi to the puppy’s owner, she said, “My family wanted to choose that dog to keep. But I told my kids, ‘No, we can’t have that one. If someone else wants her, then it’s fate that they are meant to be together.’ ”
Her name is now Bria, a name for strength, which seemed fitting. The animal communicator helped me talk to this Soul about whether or not she is Chi reincarnated. Bria said to her, “Why does he keep doubting himself? He already knows it’s me. We have a lot of work to do.”
Life with Bria
A month after adopting Bria, we were sleeping when she had a seizure. She struggled to breathe, so I brought her to the same emergency clinic where we had put Chi to sleep. It was interesting to see a cycle repeating. Except this time, as Bria had good vitals and the clinic was full, we left to go to another clinic. She was treated there for pneumonia and recovered.
Just like Chi, Bria has epilepsy, which I aim to fully resolve. The vet recommended a certain nutritional supplement for Bria. That turned out to also be a gift for me: I overcame a health issue I’d had for a decade by taking the same supplement in a form made for humans.
I also now feel freer from fear of death. Bria and Chi have shown me that love brings Souls back together again, life after life. It is such a gift to have conscious awareness of the reality of reincarnation.
This dear Soul has changed my life completely. I can now see how Divine Spirit gracefully lined up everything in my life so I could learn to accept more of God’s love for Soul.
—Photos by Alex Mendiola