CASSADAGA -- Jamie Tolaver Ruiz spreads out a tarot deck, scanning the glossy cards for insight into the amusing habits of her client -- Ella, my 4-year-old tabby.
Chasing lizards?
"She was a raven in her past life. Or a hawk or eagle. A large bird of prey. She still has those hunting instincts," says Ruiz.
Napping in my shoeboxes?
"She's very curious and wants to experience new things."
Who knew an 8-pound ball of fluff could be so complex?
Ruiz may be Central Florida's only resident pet psychic, one of the few people in the world who claim to be able to communicate with animals and get paid for it.
For $55, she will provide a 30-minute session that probes your feline's feelings, your mutt's motivation or your parrot's psyche, claiming to tap into their spiritual subconscious to help their owners better understand their needs.
"Animals are so much easier to read than people," Ruiz said during a recent metaphysical consultation in her office in Cassadaga, a spiritualist community about 45 minutes north of Orlando famous for its psychics and mediums.
"They're so open-minded. They don't put up the kind of barriers that people do. They have such beautiful souls, and they want to learn and be loved unconditionally."
Ruiz says she has been able to talk to animals her entire life, though she will only give her age as "7, in animal years."
Whenever she visited the zoo as a girl, she would send mental messages to elephants and giraffes standing far away from the crowd, and the animals would immediately amble over to her, she said.
Still, she never thought of giving psychic readings to animals, even after she moved to Cassadaga in 1986 and began offering psychic readings to humans.
But four years ago, a client arrived at Ruiz's office with a pet monkey -- and changed everything.
"The monkey grasped my finger, and I started receiving all these wonderful impressions," Ruiz said. "It was so fun. So I started reading more animals."
During her recent consultation with Ella, Ruiz used her abilities to help me figure out what makes Ella tick.
Why does she yowl when I'm cooking or washing dishes?
"She's singing."
Why doesn't she fight back when my other cat, Simon, bites her between the shoulder blades?
"She's very emotionally connected to Simon. They're extremely close."
Ruiz encourages me to chat with Ella.
She advises me to challenge her socially and intellectually with new toys or more visitors. And she tells me to avoid heavy perfumes or scented candles, because strong smells bother her.
Some of her observations make sense. But when Ruiz predicts that my Ella will return in her next life as a doctor or nurse, I snicker.
The cat who eats dust bunnies has a future in medicine?
"She's more intelligent than she gets credit for," Ruiz insists. "She doesn't show it off, but she's very smart."
Pet owners apparently have a hearty appetite for psychic readings. Ruiz says she performs as many as 12 readings per day, either in person or by phone.
Ruiz helps grieving pet owners cope with the guilt of euthanasia, offers insight into behavioral problems and helps locate missing pets.
Recently, she helped a woman find a dog, which had been hiding in a field between the woman's home and a church.
The only thing she won't do is diagnose an illness -- "I'm not a vet," she says firmly -- but she will sometimes alert owners to minor health problems.
During a reading last month with a 17-year-old Sheltie-keeshond mix named Mandy, Ruiz helped owner Linda Vernon understand that the old girl was obsessively licking her paws because she had arthritis.
"She suggested I take her on longer walks, and as soon as I started doing that she stopped licking," said Vernon, a 41-year-old truck driver from Brandon. "I was very happy, and it helped my dog."
Ruiz uses several methods to "read" animals. She spreads out tarot cards -- a deck of 78 cards used to divine fortunes. Sometimes she'll stroke a pet, picking up "vibrations" that help her feel what they feel.
Sometimes, Ruiz says, she transforms into the animal.
"Once I went into a snake's body . . . I felt very free," she recalled. "I had a very strong physical feeling of the ground, of the air, particularly of my tongue."
Ruiz believes it is possible for people to communicate with animals -- as long as people are open to the idea.
She says she taught her potbellied pig, Wilbur, to say, "Mama, more!" and her cat, Ivan, to say, "Hello!"
She is working on a book about her experiences as an animal psychic and says she wouldn't mind having a television show, which would not be a first.
Sonya Fitzpatrick, a British woman, gained celebrity as the host of Animal Planet's The Pet Psychic show.
Ruiz knows her profession draws skepticism, but she has a sense of humor about it. "It can be quite comical. I'll come home and [my husband will leave] a note on my kitchen table saying, 'A cow wants a psychic reading.' "
Ruiz clearly enjoys what she does, and with her sparkling eyes and bubbly personality, it's hard to be too cynical.
So at the end of our session, when an irritated Ella darts into a narrow corner of Ruiz's closet and refuses to budge, I decide to follow Ruiz's advice for getting her to come out.
"For 15 seconds, I want you to call her and imagine her jumping into your arms," Ruiz coaches. "Just be patient."
I kneel, softly calling Ella's name. I count the seconds while imagining holding her and stroking her soft fur.
One.
Two.
Three.
And Ella jumps into my arms.
http://www.orlandosentinel.com/orl-vpet ... &track=rss







