When pet psychic Beth Lee-Crowther reads an animal’s mind, it’s usually because the owner has a burning question: Why does their dog refuse to turn right? Do any of my chickens have PTSD? Could my cat object to being cloned? In my house, my teenage children pose the question: ‘Which one of us does our dog like best?’
Welcome to Beth’s world. Her TV show starts this week and, although her main stars are animals, viewers will learn a lot more about the people who own them. (My lesson is that there are no limits to children’s sibling rivalry!)
Beth was only 11 years old when she realized that a pony was telling her about her back problem. Forty years later, she is a full-time pet medium with regular radio and television appearances, and a best-selling book.
‘Imagine you are reading a novel and the author paints a picture in your mind. I get an image like that,’ she says. ‘Sometimes it moves, like a video, and there will be words, phrases, dates, a voice in my head. The animal has put it there.
Welcome to Beth’s world. Her TV show starts this week and, although her main stars are animals, viewers will learn a lot more about the people who own them. (My lesson is that there are no limits to children’s sibling rivalry!). Pictured: Psychic Beth Lee-Crowther
Beth was only 11 years old when she realized that a pony was telling her about her back problem. Forty years later, she is a full-time pet medium with regular radio and television appearances, and a best-selling book.
Pictured: Beth with her dog Misty (Moo)
Dogs are the most communicative, cats less so. Beth has worked with countless creatures: llamas, camels, parrots, snakes, and geckos. ‘I thought, ‘What’s a camel going to say?’ ‘ she says. But I was impressed by his emotion. It was magical.
‘I think animals talk to us humans all the time, we just don’t process it. Animals see talking to me as an opportunity to let off steam.
‘Imagine if you were walking around all day and no one listened to you, it would be very frustrating. Many times it is accompanied by a feeling of relief, they can say what they need to say and I convey it to their owner.’
She never felt burdened by her gift and, despite all the detractors, never took advantage of it. She does not charge for her services although, in the face of growing demand, she admits that she may have to start.
‘I do it for the animals. My mission is to share, to show that what I do is real and possible,” he says.
Britain is a nation of animal lovers with an estimated dog population of 12 million and approximately ten million cats, so perhaps it was entirely foreseeable that a pet psychic would have his own television show. Even for those of us who don’t have second sight.
Beth begins with a “chicken read” in her hometown of Malvern, Worcestershire. Petal, a white leghorn, should lay 280 eggs a year, but her nest is empty. Beth says that the bird tells her that she lost her chicken’s best friend in a fox attack and that she is too anxious to start laying eggs again. Her owner assures the chicken, through Beth, that her electric fence has been upgraded. We can only hope that Petal blossoms, although viewers don’t find out right away.
However, they do see the result of Beth’s visit to Yogi, a huge, fluffy dog who doesn’t really like to leave the house and then when he does, he just turns left.
Yogi has outwitted dog trainers and psychologists and, in an attempt to find a cure, experimented with cannabis-derived CBD oil. Now it’s all up to Beth. She says Yogi confesses that loud noises scare him. Her owner remembers that her last house was surrounded by shooting ranges.
When Beth visits again weeks later, Yogi leaves her house without being dragged… and turns right.
Beth is a tremendous communicator, warm and empathetic. Having owned animals since, she says, a black and white rabbit approached her in a pet store and begged, “Take me home,” she understands the deep bond between owners and pets.
Britain is a nation of animal lovers with an estimated dog population of 12 million and approximately ten million cats, so perhaps it was entirely foreseeable that a pet psychic would have his own television show. Even for those of us without second sight
With her glasses on her head, stylish jackets and modest makeup, she is a far cry from the stereotype of a fairground psychic with a headscarf, earrings and jeweled fingers.
This is a woman who takes her work so seriously that she has taken a counseling course to also help animal owners.
Beth meets a Hertfordshire couple who treat their 11-year-old ragdoll cat Arya like a child. They want Beth to ask Arya for permission to clone her so she can continue living after her death. Through Beth, Arya suggests to her owners that a cloned cat could look the same but have a different soul. It may not have been the answer the couple expected, but it is certainly the wisest one.
Later, in Swansea, South Wales, Beth meets (and is bitten) by a ferret named Misty. The animal eats hot, pureed chicken thighs and is cradled like a baby and sung lullabies to it. He has his own bedroom, decorated in lilac, and a cushion with his face on it. Misty’s owner is worried that his pet is lonely and wants a ferret companion.
Beth conveys the message that Misty would like to have more friends. The same advice could be directed to the overly devoted ferret owner.
Beth doesn’t mind people who don’t believe in what she does. “They say she’s trash and seconds later they pull out her phone with a picture of her dog and say, ‘Can you tell me if she’s okay?’
“You have to have a little courage to say that you can talk to animals, but I am passionate about it and that gives me courage.”
“I think everyone can talk to animals on some level; we’ve just forgotten how.”
I ask him what he would be if he were an animal. It reminds me a little of an Afghan hound with its cloud of long blonde hair.
‘No!’ she protests. “He would be a scruffy little Jack Russell: quirky, mischievous and determined to challenge the accepted order.”
How did it go with Sarah’s less than obedient stalker?
Pictured: Sarah Oliver’s pet dog named Khyber
Beth: He’s exceptionally sensitive to noise.
How true! When I open the cutlery drawer, Khyber immediately scurries over to his basket under my office desk. He can’t even stand the noise of a loud family dinner and will only return after it’s over in hopes of receiving a scratched plate.
Beth: He wants to dance.
Shameful but true. Khyber is always jumping on his hind legs and asking for a ride.
Beth: He thinks he’s pretty well behaved.
No, it’s a bloodhound. Show him a squirrel and he’ll go away. He practices selective deafness to any order he does not want to obey.
Beth: Your soulmate is called Joan or Joanne.
It’s not me. Or it would be better since I am the one who feeds him and walks him.
lThe Pet Psychic: What is your dog thinking? It’s on Channel 5, on Tuesday, at 7 p.m.