Venus, page 8
She explains that the family were living in Holland at that time and they went skating on a big canal. Suddenly Justin, with all the impetuosity of a seven-year-old boy, charges off on his own, racing as fast as he can. He’s heading towards thin ice, head down, oblivious of everything else. Mum chases desperately after him, shouting his name as loudly as she can, but in vain. Sure enough, the ice gives way under him and he goes through. By luck or angelic intervention he spreads out his arms as he falls, so the ice holds him and his head is above the surface. As Mum gets near to him, the ice under her cracks, so she spreadeagles herself and wriggles towards him on her tummy – and manages to grab him. With the superhuman strength that is given to mothers on such occasions, she pulls him out and carries him home.
Mum says that Justin’s Guardian Angel has always worked overtime with him, both as a child and as an adult, and deserves a medal. My angels nods vigorously in agreement. ‘Did you help me when I fell through the ice just now?’ I demand.
‘Of course we did,’ they say together and add, ‘We work as hard to help and protect you as Justin’s Guardian Angel does. You have lots to experience.’
‘Thank you,’ I respond, in a small, happy voice.
Later, sitting quietly by the log burner, I ask Mum telepathically for more information about my Guardian Angels. ‘You know all animals have two angels?’ I nod. She fetches her laptop and shows me a picture of a cow with two Orbs on it. Orbs are the dots of angel energy that appear on photographs. Then she shows me a glorious photograph of a bright yellow Orb by a dog. I can feel doggy goose bumps. ‘That’s Archangel Fhelyai, the Angel of Animals,’ she tells me. ‘He and his angels look after all animals everywhere. He will send one of his beautiful yellow angels to help you, if you ask.’
I chat to Mum
So that’s why animals often have a yellow angel with them. That feels warm and comforting.
Mum walks me round the block at dusk and I jump onto the low wall of a neighbouring house. What’s that? I nearly fall off backwards with shock. There’s a cat with big shining, glittering, green eyes in the front garden, looking as if it’s ready to pounce on me.
Mum smiles and says, ‘It’s alright, Venus. It’s not a real cat. It’s a metal one with glass eyes.’
Who would play such a trick on an innocent dog? My heart is still pounding. And where was my protective yellow angel?
30 November
When Mum goes out, if she’s going to be longer than an hour, she says, ‘Shopping, Venus’, so I go upstairs and sleep on her bed until she gets back. She usually returns with bags of food and I sniff around them hopefully, for treats. Recently, she has been coming home with mountains of boring stuff and apparently this is due to something impending called Christmas. Why do people have to go out and buy clothes and things?
My angel tells me that Mum and I once lived together in a golden era called Atlantis, when we materialized what we needed and life was so much easier and simpler. Everyone lived contented, honest lives with integrity and joy, always acting for the highest good.
I can’t help wondering if people really need all this stuff?
1 December
Mum and I fit in a quick visit to Justin and Rachel and two-year-old Maya before Christmas. It’s a joy to run around with the gentle little girl again, and she and I have a great time playing together in her Wendy house. I even hide in there and have a nap while she’s doing something else.
The other good thing is that I get to nip out into the garden to sniff the chickens. Pity they aren’t so happy about it.
2 December
Something terrible happens – absolutely, unbelievably horrid. We all go for a woodland walk with Maya in a pushchair. It’s icy cold with a bitter wind. We come across two large pools with a narrow, moss-covered wall in between them. Being an intrepid explorer I trot along the wall. When I notice a grassy embankment below me I jump onto it, but it isn’t solid. It’s like quicksand – an illusion – and I plunge straight through it into freezing, watery sand – and disappear!! Mum screams loudly, ‘Venus!’ and starts to crawl as quickly as she can along the slippery wall towards where I have vanished. She can’t see me. A lady passing calls out unhelpfully, ‘Oh, dogs have often done that. It’s terribly dangerous. That place is notorious.’
I struggle, choking and covered in thick sand, to the surface and dog-paddle blindly towards Mum. She heaves me up to safety and I shake myself over her. I’m shocked and frozen to the marrow. We all hurry back as quickly as possible in the biting wind.
Mum bathes me in warm water and cuddles me in a hot towel, while I ponder the lesson.
Perhaps it’s, ‘All that’s green isn’t grass’. Maybe it’s, ‘Things aren’t always what they seem to be.’ On the other hand it could be, ‘Take the plunge in good faith and trust the universe will support you.’ On further reflection I think it’s, ‘Sometimes you have to go through difficulties before you are wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket.’ Yes that’s it, I decide as I fall asleep, warm and cosy on Mum’s lap.
Chapter 15
Celebrations
3 December
Today is Isabel’s 9th birthday, so Mum and I have driven to their house for her birthday party. Kali, the cat, appears to touch noses with me and then quickly disappears again. I don’t blame her. I’m sure she knows something is going on! Pretty soon a whole crowd of girls arrive and I bark at them, so Mum picks me up and tells them that they are to leave me alone. That’s better. Lots of angels are arriving, too, and I wonder why?
A tall man wearing a strange hat turns up. It transpires he’s a magician. All the children sit around him, while Mum, Lauren and I stay at the back and watch in awe. Everyone is clapping, cheering, ooh-ing and aah-ing. How does he do those amazing things? My name is Venus Magic. I wonder if I can be a dog magician?
The angels are still with us and I can see that they are enjoying the party, too. When Isabel’s cake is brought out, candles flaming, the angels cheer with us. They are laughing and dancing. They say they always attend weddings, parties, graduations, ceremonies and celebrations of all types. They bring with them the spirits of the loved ones of the participants! Yes, they bring all those grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins and friends who have passed over, so that they can watch and celebrate with joy and pride. If you find yourself thinking about a loved one who has died, it’s probably because they are with you.
I celebrate too
5 December
Wallace, the Schnauzer, is very good in crowds and with groups of people. I wish I could be like him. He stays calm and comfortable whatever is going on around him. I’m different – I panic and become very nervous.
My angel tells me it’s because I’m so sensitive, and it’s true that I feel everyone’s energy. She says more and more people are becoming sensitive like this and it’s important for them to cleanse and protect their auras, as well as to stay grounded. Every day Mum takes me for long walks to ground me, calls in Archangel Michael to protect my aura and visualizes a diamond of Archangel Gabriel’s light over me to purify my energy fields. My angel says that Mum is doing the right thing and it would help a lot of humans if they did this, too.
Andrew has a huge and eclectic selection of friends and is always willing to support them. That’s how I come to be in a large crowd this evening, with Wallace. I feel like a cowering white blob while Wallace looks like a smart, confident, gentleman dog. He’s friendly with everyone and lets them stroke him. I don’t.
Andrew’s friend John, who also comes from South Africa, has cancer that has been progressively getting worse. He has had several rounds of chemotherapy and radiotherapy; now the hospital in the UK has refused him more treatment and sent him home to die. But in South Africa they will give him another round of chemotherapy. He wants to go there, but he is struggling to pay for the treatment as well as his flight and accommodation.
Mum says she doesn’t understand how burning and poisoning a person can heal them of cancer. It’s a bit like blood-letting in the past. But the power of love can heal.
Andrew obviously believes in community and the power of love. He gathers everyone together and puts on a concert to raise £10,000 to send his friend to South Africa for another round of treatment. And right now I’m at the concert with Wallace, watching love and generosity pour from everyone’s hearts.
John is leaving for South Africa tomorrow. He looks very thin and fragile. I do hope all this community love sustains him.
8 December
It’s a busy shopping time. The new lodger is always at home, so there’s someone in the house to keep me company, but mostly I lie on Mum’s bed and wait for her to come back.
15 December
Elisabeth has finished wrapping up her children’s Christmas presents. We have lit a special candle for their happiness.
23 December
The house feels really weird. There are shiny baubles dangling everywhere, but I’m not allowed to jump up and grab them. Strange bits of coloured paper are hanging from the ceiling and, most peculiar of all, there’s a tree in the hall! A tree, I ask you. That is odd enough, but today Mum has draped coloured lights and sparkly stuff all over it. Apparently, this is a Christmas tree, which is evergreen (or plastic) and symbolizes life and hope in the darkest part of winter.
Mum tells me that the family will be arriving tomorrow. Yes, all the grandchildren – so it will be the usual chaos. I sigh, but I might as well surrender.
My angel smiles at me and reminds me that surrender to the Divine will is a very advanced lesson. Clearly, I’m a very evolved dog if I’m being brought all these lessons! I manage to wag my tail to show I’m ready.
24 December
Elisabeth has texted her husband to tell him she will be leaving presents for the children on his doorstep very early on Christmas morning. Mum looks horrified and says, ‘Why have you warned him in advance?’ Elisabeth replies that not even her husband will do something slimy at Christmas.
I wouldn’t be so sure.
Christmas Eve! Before the onslaught of family, we have a little quiet time and I lie on the sofa. I notice that the energy feels different today, like rainbow silk. My yellow angel looks extra sparkly and joyful, though quite serious. She sits by me and I feel an electric tingle through my body, so I know that she’s going to impart some important news. She tells me that we are about to enter an extremely important cosmic period that occurs every year. Apparently a flow of divine energy streams into the world after the winter solstice and it becomes a torrent at midnight on Christmas Eve. Ooh! I can sense it already.
Every year on 25 December people can access special fast-frequency light, carrying higher information and cosmic wisdom. This is why this date is celebrated as a religious festival in many ancient civilizations, and a number of the great masters were said to have been born on this date, though they actually incarnated during a different season. I can’t say that I understand all this, but I nod sagely and act as if I’m a very knowledgeable puppy. My angel continues that it’s really important to find a little quiet time to absorb the special light, as it can boost animals and people to another spiritual level and enable them to access more Christ light – the golden energy carrying pure unconditional love.
Well, it would be good to find some quiet time, but will that be possible when the family is here?
They’ve arrived. Oh, my goodness! It’s like a space invasion. How could they all get here at the same time, three mixed carloads of adults and children?
Mum thought it might snow early so she bought a few toboggans, and the older kids are willingly emptying the cars and sledging all the cases and bags through the house to the hall, where they’re piled in an untidy mountain. I have a good sniff around, but nothing smells interesting to me – in other words, no chicken!
Now Isabel and Finn are pulling the little ones, Kailani and Maya, on sledges in the Metatron room, where the carpet is gloriously thick. That baby, Taliya, tries to get to me. She stretches her arms towards me chanting, ‘Dog, dog, dog!’ but she can only move slowly, so I have plenty of time to retreat. I have to keep a watchful eye on the others though, as they are all buzzing with excitement. I think I’ll vanish upstairs while the going’s good.
I’m too late! They want me to sit on the sled. Oh, silly me! When will I learn to withdraw in good time?
It’s dark early and suddenly the lights fuse. I heave a sigh of relief and nip upstairs to Mum’s bed. Thank goodness there are no children in it! I have an inkling there soon will be, though.
25 December
My first Christmas Day!
Isabel tries to put a red Father Christmas hat with a white bobble on my head. I turn into a wriggly eel and Mum intercedes. Thankfully, she recognizes I’m Venus the Papillon terrier, not a docile lapdog. While they have breakfast I escape upstairs to enjoy some quiet time until someone finds me.
The children are soon busy opening presents and playing with them. They are very happy and I see several angels bringing the spirits of relatives who’ve passed away to join in the fun. It’s much easier to come through the veil between the worlds on a day when the frequency is higher. One, who looks very youthful in her spirit body – I think she’s Mum’s Irish grandmother – is dancing a jig with the children and having a wonderful time. They can’t see her, but they can sense her presence and are all excited.
In the afternoon we go for a walk – a strung-out mob of adults, children and me. When I’m let off the lead I run into the trees and onto quiet paths. There I see an elderly lady pottering along sedately with her equally old poodle friend. All of a sudden a glorious shower of golden light flows over them. It only lasts a second, but I know this is the Christ light my angel was talking about. I look around carefully and see that the trees are being bathed in this beautiful energy, too. They are bright and shimmering. Wow! Christmas really is special. I hope Mum and I get a few minutes to relax and absorb the light.
Bedtime
We do. It happens when we are sitting in bed at the end of the day.
26 December
Today is Boxing Day, so-called because of the old tradition of giving servants money from a wooden box. I think Mum should recognize my loyal service with a dog Boxing Day.
Elisabeth is waiting for her friend Mary to phone. She’s desperate to know how her children, Annie and Ben, liked their presents. The call comes at last.
Mary reveals that when she and her son popped in to wish them Happy Christmas, their father was in the kitchen re-wrapping the gifts Elisabeth had so lovingly chosen and left on the doorstep. Not knowing that Mary had been with Elisabeth when they were bought, he held up Ben’s sweatshirt. ‘I got last-minute extra presents for the kids,’ he smirked. He then wrote, ‘Love from Dad’ on cards and taped them to the gifts.
In front of Mary and her son, he also told them spitefully that their mother didn’t even love them enough to remember them at Christmas. Mary says their faces went grey and their eyes became dull. It’s heartbreaking.
And so Elisabeth cries and waits. Come on universe, something must change soon.
Chapter 16
Elisabeth Sees Her Son
3 January
Elisabeth hurries into the kitchen looking very excited. She tells us she has just seen her son, Ben, in the supermarket so she quickly dodged behind a shelf to watch. It’s three years since she left, so he’s bigger and taller than when she last saw him. Every bit of her wanted to rush out and hug him, but she knew this would give him a terrible shock as his father has told him that she doesn’t live in the UK any more and doesn’t care about him. So she drank him in with every fibre of her being and held herself back.
‘He doesn’t look happy,’ she confesses. ‘I know he needs me. I’m not so worried about Annie. She’s older and to all accounts has a nice boyfriend, so she has some support. Also, she has started university, so she’s out of her father’s influence and I hear she’s happy. But Ben believes everything his father says. He really believes I don’t love him.’
Despite this she’s grinning all the time and looking so happy to have glimpsed him. Her Guardian Angel is standing very close to her and I bark twice just to say hello.
5 January
Elisabeth is sitting on a bench in the garden stroking Brutus while I’m sniffing round the flowerbeds. Suddenly, for no reason, he bites her hard, drawing blood. She screeches in shock and pain, and then, to my enormous surprise, she grabs him and bites him back. I sit and cheer. Mum is looking out of the window and laughs. Brutus glares and scowls ferociously. At last the worm has turned and Brutus has got his comeuppance. He’s mortified and, for the next half hour, sits in the middle of the lawn with his back to her. Elisabeth can’t quite believe she did it, but Mum says he had it coming to him.
My angel looks a bit startled because it’s so unlike the gentle Elisabeth but he murmurs, ‘If you treat any creature with disrespect, there will always be a consequence.’
10 January
Every day this week at school-leaving time Elisabeth has driven to the supermarket in the hope of glimpsing her son again, but she has not seen him and she is looking quite despondent. I sit by her in a gesture of solidarity. Dogs are very sensitive and always know how people feel, so I’m sure I’m helping her just by being here.
