Venus, page 6
Two men walking along the towpath stop, too, and we are all eyeing the prostrate figure.
‘Perhaps he’s asleep,’ suggests one man.
‘We’d better find out then.’ Mum walks determinedly towards him. I cringe. What if he’s just snoozing! Andrew and the two strangers are with her and one of them announces that he’s got a mouth-to-mouth resuscitation kit on him! How surreal.
Mum and the stranger with the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation kit take it in turns to give the man the kiss of life. I want to stop her so I whine and try to paw her, but Andrew grabs me and puts me on my lead, then phones for an ambulance. He hurries Wallace and me to the road so that he can show the ambulance people where the sick man is. I’m glad to get away, though I keep pulling to go back to Mum.
When Andrew, Wallace and I return with assistance, Mum and the man stop working on the stranger. He’s obviously dead, but the ambulance people are not allowed to confirm it.
As we move away Andrew says, ‘I knew he’d gone. I saw his spirit leave his body. That’s what made me look that way in the first place. He waved as he went to the light and he was really glad to go home.’
Wallace and I look at each other. That’s what we had seen, too.
‘Oh,’ says Mum. ‘You might have told me! Well, at least we tried to help him and I’m glad he was happy to go to the light.’
And we continue with our walk.
5 p.m.
We get into the car to drive home. Mum says, ‘I told you things happen round Andrew! Are you all right, Venus?’
I want to say that I’m not all right. I have never seen a dead body before. I want to stay and play with Wallace. I’m hungry. But I can feel my eyelids getting heavy and droopy, and the next thing I know, the car wheels are crunching on our drive.
9 October
Mum wants the dead man’s relatives to know that he did not die alone, that there were people with him, praying for him, and it was a peaceful ending. She phones Kingston Hospital to ask them to pass on the message.
The receptionist responds very abruptly that they have hundreds of people being brought in by ambulance each day and she can’t possibly find out who her dying man was. Mum says that they can’t have that many cases of people who die alone by the river, but the woman doesn’t want to know. She’s extremely unhelpful.
Mum’s aura has gone red with anger, but then she says, ‘Venus, that woman also needs help. She has a very difficult job, so let’s light a candle and ask the angels to help her to find compassion and kindness.’
And as we send blessings to that hard-hearted hospital woman, Mum’s aura turns pink and gold. Thank goodness! It’s amazing how humans can change their auras in a moment by radiating different thoughts.
It’s lovely to be at home where I can stretch out in the sun and bark at the postman without any Kali Cuddles to watch out for.
Chapter 10
Birds
11 October
After lunch Mum and I go for a walk to the peaceful lake with my new friend, Buddy, and his mum, Kathy. We watch the golden-white autumn sunshine shimmering on the ripples that spread behind the armada of quacking ducks and the two huge white swans. The latter float to the edge of the water near me looking supercilious. I, valiant Venus, am not scared of a mere bird, even if it’s large. I wave my tail like a white feathery flag and run down to the water’s edge barking loudly at them. They both lift up their heads, rise up in the air flapping their giant wings and hiss at me! Help! I turn and run all the way back to the car, ignoring all Mum’s frantic calls. Those creatures can’t really be birds, can they?
When she pulls me from under the vehicle, Mum cuddles me to calm me down. My yellow angel smiles with understanding. ‘Birds don’t come to Earth to learn, Venus. They are only here to teach, and swans are demonstrating qualities of majesty, grace and nobility.’
‘What are they doing flapping their giant wings at me, then?’ I want to know. My angel beams love, peace and non-judgement to me, and it takes Mum to point out that they think I’m just a little whippersnapper. They don’t appreciate my arrogant barking, so they are trying to quieten me by making themselves enormous. Well, they certainly succeeded.
13 October
Mum takes me down to the beach. We park the car on the road and walk down a long chine (a steep-sided river valley where the river flows down to the sea) with slopes covered in woods. Because I’m strong and fast and agile, I race up the hills and through the undergrowth like a white arrow. This is the best part of the outing before we get to that dreary sand.
I love chasing birds because I have a wonderful run and I know I’ll never catch them. It’s pure exhilaration. I’m thundering up and down the steep tree-lined banks, feeling as if I own the world, when I see a big black bird flapping around in a bush, halfway up the hill. No one tells me it’s a baby crow, so I torpedo up to it – and to my horror it doesn’t fly away. What am I supposed to do? I bark loudly. Then two absolutely enormous black crows appear above me like great shadows. They are squawking, making a most terrible noise, and dive-bombing me.
Bravely, I ignore them. I dismiss Mum’s voice, too. She’s calling, ‘Venus, come here!’ very loudly but I’m on a mission to reach that large baby who is fluttering round the bush.
Suddenly the enormous parent birds attack me. It’s really scary, but my terrier spirit is roused and I bark even more loudly.
Mum hares up the hill, as fast as the poor old dear can manage, and puts me on a lead. I have the perfect excuse to leave with my tail held high and wagging. That pair of crows follows us all the way along the path like fighter planes. It’s spooky.
Mum says I must not take on more than I can chew, which is a bizarre thing to say because I wasn’t going to chew the baby bird, just chase it when it flew away.
14 October
Several large wood pigeons nest in the trees in the garden. They waddle about on the lawn, swaying like badly loaded boats, and make a mess. But my angels say I should not snigger at them or chase them, because doves, pigeons and also ducks are very special. They work closely with the Angels of Love and Peace, spreading messages of comfort and hope from them. This is why they often try to flutter up to people. Okay, I get it! Taking kids to feed the ducks or pigeons enables the Angels of Love and Peace to influence them. Cool planning by the universe.
This evening that villainous tabby, Brutus, has caught a wood pigeon that is nearly as big as he is. The poor bird is flapping its wings in a frantic effort to get away. Mum rushes into the garden and shouts at the cat, who promptly runs away, dragging his unfortunate victim into the centre of the very thick hedge. We can hear it flapping desperately, but there’s no way we can reach it.
Mum calls out, ‘Angels, please help me set this bird free.’ Instantly they tell her to pick up a large pole lying nearby and thrust it into the hedge. She does this as quickly as she can and amazingly Brutus lets go of the pigeon, which flies free.
Brutus the villain!
‘What was that bird showing us?’ I ask.
‘That if you are trapped in a situation, call for help, listen to your intuition and take action. We angels will help you find a way out of it.’
‘Okay, I buy that,’ I respond.
16 October
We are going to spend the night at Mum’s son Justin’s house. His daughter Maya is two and a half now, and a bit nervous of me. Quite right. I may be all fluffy and soft like a puppy, but inside I’m a wolf!
However, she’s very brave and, watching me warily, she picks up the string attached to my toy and runs with it. That does it. We form a bond of friendship as I chase my toy for two hours in a circle through the kitchen, the hall and the sitting room.
Then I discover something even more fabulous. There are big, brown clucking birds in an enclosure in the garden. Chickens. I race around them, barking in ecstasy, my tail erect and every fibre of my being quivering with anticipation. They appear to be terrified and that adds to my delight. Naturally, that spoilsport Mum captures me and takes me inside, but I expect she’ll let me out again.
My angel tells me that hens are very special – wouldn’t you believe it! They just look like dull brown birds to me. She says that all birds come from Sirius, but hens hail from a distant asteroid and step down through Sirius before they incarnate. They arrived on Earth in the golden era of Atlantis to offer humans feathers and eggs and to teach them that it’s good to serve. Clearly, it’s important that humans learn that, though we dogs know it automatically. I feel quite warm towards the chickens when I hear this, but it doesn’t stop me wanting to harass them.
20 October
Andrew and his dog Wallace, the Miniature Schnauzer, are visiting for the day and after our shared experience with the dead body by the Thames, we are firm friends. I’m delighted to see him and we two little dogs are scampering about by the sea. Wallace loves the sand and that helps me to like it, too. We enjoy a good bark as we chase seagulls together. They only fly a little way before they land again, so we can engage in the pursuit all over again. This is doggy paradise.
Mum puts me on the lead when we move up to the promenade, but Wallace is still free. And so I have the opportunity to witness a different side of the macho Schnauzer. A seagull with a damaged wing lands right in front of us and the dog dutifully chases it. It flutters down onto the sand and Wallace rushes right up to it, barking. He sounds really aggressive, but I know that he’s begging it to fly away. The gull can’t fly, so it tries to run. Wallace doesn’t know what to do, but he doesn’t want to lose face so he hurries behind the bird, sniffing its backside as if it’s a dog. Mum and Andrew keep calling him and he soon realizes that this is the way out of his dilemma. Looking crestfallen, he surrenders to Andrew who puts him on his lead.
Mum tells him that it was very compassionate to leave the injured bird and that true warriors are also gentle. He looks at her as if she’s mad.
22 October
We drive to Lauren’s house today because she and her family are going to look after me while Mum goes away for a few days. We are waiting in the front garden for Isabel and Finn to get their coats on for a walk when something glorious happens to me. I play a trick! I see the boy next door – who is about twelve and has his back to me – working on his bike. He doesn’t notice me creep up to him. When I’m right behind him, I fluff up my fur like Michael, the Alsatian. I take a deep breath and suddenly I bark as loudly as I can, like a burst of automatic rifle fire. The boy nearly jumps out of his skin. Yes, he literally leaps into the air in shock and drops his bike. Oh, it’s fabulous! I feel so powerful. My ego and confidence are buzzing. A passing cyclist nearly falls off his bicycle, laughing! The neighbours opposite see it and think it’s hysterical. Luckily, the boy sees the funny side, too, and giggles. Mum also laughs, but she scolds me – I can’t think why. I have brought lightness and hilarity to their day.
I’m so pleased with myself that I leap onto the kitten and nuzzle her. Mum calls, ‘Be gentle, Venus!’ Then she sees Kali Cuddles cheerfully biting my bottom and she laughs.
23 October
Mum is going to Egypt today, so she gets up early to take me for a short walk with Isabel before she’s collected by taxi. She’s leaving me. No! Not with children and a cat! Please come back soon.
24 October
I miss Mum – well a bit. Today I’m spending some time playing with Kali. I didn’t know kittens could be such fun.
30 October
Mum’s home! I’m so pleased to see her. I jump up again and again and roll over and wee all over the floor. She’s just as pleased to see me, but she doesn’t show it in quite the same way.
‘It wasn’t so bad was it, Venus?’ she asks.
‘Yes, it was,’ I tell her. ‘But it was worse for Kali, the kitten. She spent most of the time on the shed roof.’
1 November
When we wave goodbye Finn says the house will feel really empty without me. Well, of course it will!
Chapter 11
Neighbours
2 November
There are fences and hedges around the garden and the people and dogs on the other side are called neighbours. I wonder if that’s something to do with horses? Perhaps people neighed to each other over the fence in the olden days? Anyway, we have a shouting neighbour at the end of the garden. When we are outside we can hear her shouting at Cyril or Horace. ‘Cyril, do this.’ ‘Horace, for goodness sake!’ The only thing is we’re not sure which one is the dog and which one is the husband. I’m absolutely convinced that Cyril is the husband and Horace the poor mutt, but Mum thinks the opposite. How are we going to find out?
The woman is in full flow with her tirade now, so Mum and I try to peep over the fence to see what we can find out. I hide in the bushes and Mum climbs up onto the zip-wire platform and stands on tiptoe, but she can’t see anything. That female is really shouting and screaming, and there’s a subdued man and a depressed-looking hound sitting on their patio taking very little notice. But I still don’t know who is who.
Mum climbs down and who do you think jumps onto the platform but Brutus! He’s trying to catch a glimpse through the trees, but he can’t see anything. Then he climbs up the oak tree right in the corner to get a better look – cats are so curious – and at that moment the noise abates and they all go inside.
This afternoon Mum tells Megan about our shouting neighbour and Cyril and Horace. Megan replies that they used to have a little girl next door to them called Phelia. But for years they thought she was called Ophelia because her mother kept calling, ‘Oh! Phelia!’
I know the feeling. I often get called, ‘Oh, Venus!’
3 November
There are two houses bordering the end of our garden. That yappie sausage dog in one of them never goes out. When I ask him where they take him for a walk, he tells me that his owners insist he doesn’t need one. If I see him at the fence I race over, wagging my tail and barking furiously, but he never has any news. What a dull life he leads. Dogs are on Earth to experience things, just as humans are.
A friend of Mum’s told her that when she was a child they had a dog and a chicken, who were great friends. They would run along the wire-mesh fence together to the end of the garden and back, barking and clucking while the two dogs next door would race up and down on their side, retaliating loudly. They never needed to be taken for walks and were worn out by the end of the day.
Hmm, I wonder what it’s like to have a chicken as a friend?
4 November
The nice old lady next door is called Mavis. I particularly enjoy barking at her whenever she comes out into her garden. Mum always rushes out to shush me, then stays and chats to her. I let Mavis stroke me, but I’ve never been into her garden.
This morning I sniff around the boundary as usual. What’s this? A fox has dug a hole under the fence. Mavis is pulling out weeds in her flowerbeds, but she has not seen me, so I wriggle through the fox hole onto her side! Oh, the joy of freedom! I strut up and down her lawn feeling very clever, enjoying the different smells. Suddenly, she looks up and sees me. I dash for the fence. Oh horror! I can’t find the fox hole. She’s coming towards me, getting bigger as she approaches. All at once, she turns into a huge monstrous ogre and I race around her lawn trying to escape her clutches. I bark as loudly as I can to call Mum, who runs round to Mavis’s side gate, shouting, ‘I’m coming, Venus.’ I fly to Mum as soon as I see her and she picks me up. I can’t tell you how relieved I am.
Then a strange thing happens. That huge ogre turns into a little old lady again. How peculiar! I let her stroke me and I even lick her hand. She’s very kind.
My angel says that if you are afraid of something, however small, it gets magnified out of all proportion and becomes an ogre. When you strengthen yourself or look at the fear clearly, it shrinks and you can deal with it. That doesn’t apply to me, of course, because I, Venus the terrier, am not afraid of much – but it’s weird how Mavis changed so dramatically.
5 November
The neighbour behind is in the garden screaming at Horace again. I bark in sympathy, just in case it’s the dog. There’s no response. Not sure if that means she’s shouting at her husband or if it’s the animal, too traumatized to respond.
Mum lights a candle and we send love over the fence to that house and the people in it.
6 November
At last the mystery is solved! Cyril is definitely the dog. I hear the virago shouting, ‘Be quiet, Cyril. I’ll get your dinner in a minute.’ Poor old boy. I imagine his owner as big and beefy, with a round ugly face and a squint.
7 November
How weird! We are enjoying our walk in the woods when I hear someone shouting ‘Horace!’ I recognize that voice, I swear I do. I race back to Mum. I’m not sure if it’s to protect her or that I want her to protect me. We look at each other. ‘I thought the dog was Cyril?’ Mum whispers. If a puppy could shrug, I would shrug.
A thin woman with blonde hair strides along the path towards us with a brown dog that looks like a whippet cross. It doesn’t look very happy, but then neither does she. In fact she looks exhausted. As I knew she would, Mum says brightly, ‘Hello, lovely day isn’t it?’ The woman looks a bit surprised considering it’s chilly and drizzling, but responds politely enough.
