BIG CAT STORY

                                                               

                                                                  BIG CAT STORY 

One of the scariest things that ever happened to me occurred while I was out walking quite a few years ago now. But it's something that I will never ever forget.
I walked a regular route from where we lived. I walked across the fields that leads to a pub and from there walked a different route home. There are three fields to walk across to reach the pub. I’d crossed two of them and as I walked through the opening into the third field I let my dog off her lead. There was not another soul in sight so I knew that we were okay. At the far end of this field is a small slope that leads to other fields or you can turn right and walk along where there is a pub on the side and it eventually leads to the road. I strolled across the field enjoying the peace and quiet. My dog did not do what she normally did which was to run round the field like a maniac she walked beside me. I patted her as we walked along the track and I glanced ahead towards the slope that leads out of the field. I then nearly passed out with shock!! Running from the right of the field ahead of me was a huge black panther like cat! OMG, I thought we’re going to die, if not from being attacked by the cat but from fright. I muttered, ‘ stand still’ to my dog and slipped her lead on, still watching the cat, as it rushed past the entrance/exit and headed straight to the edge of the field and then it ran through a gap in the hedge and disappeared from view.
My legs were so weak (jelly legs) and I was literally shaking all over with fright. Should I turn back or head towards the exit? If I turned back there were the other fields to cross before reaching the main road, but if I walked on I would be away from the fields in a few minutes. I gulped took a huge breath and left the field.
I knew if I told my OH he would laugh and disbelieve me. He did exactly that. But in the paper the following day there was a story of a big cat escaping from a travelling zoo or circus.
It was the stuff of nightmares.

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Broke?

Broke?

I smile when I hear people say that they are broke and can’t afford to go to the pub or buy an extra bottle of wine to drink while watching the television. Broke? They don’t know the meaning of the word! I wonder how they would have survived years ago when I was young and, my mother could not even afford to replace our second-hand shoes with a new pair of second or third- hand shoes. I nearly always wore the ones my sister had grown out of We had to put newspaper inside them to keep them dry if we couldn’t find any dry cardboard in the entry where our terraced house stood. Mom rarely if ever managed to afford to buy us a pair of new shoes - even those off the market in town were beyond her means. We always wore second-hand clothes given to us by aunties or bought from a cheap market stall. At one time as we were growing up we only possessed one dress each and a skirt and jumper.

Mom married young, and unfortunately, our father deserted her for another woman, he never hung around to meet me. Gran looked after us after school until Mom finished work at a local factory and came to collect us. Mom was extremely poor back then, but she never moaned, she just got on with it. We always had a fire in the grate - albeit a small one. And we never went hungry. I don’t know how she did it, but she always managed to make us a stew for tea and a couple of dripping sandwiches to take to school for our dinner break. And if she could she would buy us a penny chew when we went shopping in town at the weekend. The stallholders were good as they would always give us an apple or even an orange when Mom bought the veg. I knew they always gave her a few extra vegetables. At Christmas she would manage to find a couple of tiny dolls and an apple and orange for us. In those days we did not have a Christmas dinner or cake. If we were lucky we did visit Grans for Christmas Day if she invited us. We felt truly blessed. There would be lots of our aunts, uncles, and cousins there, and a good time was enjoyed by all who attended.

The church of St Albans was across the street from where we lived, and the nuns would often visit to see if Mom was all right and invite Pauline and me to some event that was going to take place at the church.

The Haunting of Kate Somner

After a reading from Gary, a clairvoyant, Kate Somner’s life changes forever.
Her husband Ben disappears in unusual circumstances. She loses her job,her home, and her friends.
As if all the above isn’t bad enough, Kate begins experiencing time slips which take her back to the 1960s. Here, she “sees” Sheila, who is living in the same flat that Kate now lives in. Is there a connection between the two women?
Kate revisits Gary, hoping that he will be able to help her.
Will Gary help Kate find her missing husband?
Will she unravel the mystery of the time slips?
The Haunting of Kate Somner is a supernatural mystery full of intrigue, secrets and deception.

Available from Amazon Kindle and in paperback. Link below

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Haunting-Kate-Somner-Carol-Arnall-ebook/dp/B00FU99TYY/ref=sr_1_8?keywords=carol+arnall&qid=1566748297&s=digital-text&sr=1-8

Why I became a Tarot Card Reader

My Life as aTarot Card Reader

A Little About Myself

My earliest memories are of living in a back to back terraced house in Birmingham where I lived with my mom and my older sister (by eighteen months) Pauline.

Our father deserted Mom before I was born. She had a desperate struggle bringing us up during and after the war until she remarried. We then moved to Northfield, and we both passed the eleven plus examination to grammar schools. Pauline went to Kings Norton Grammar School, and I, to my dismay, was sent to Bartley Green Grammar School. I was happy at my junior school and certainly didn’t want to go to Bartley Green.

I was more than happy when I left the school, and after a few jobs I settled down happily to work at ‘Ten Acres & Stirchley Cooperative Society, Birmingham,’ as a secretary. Pauline also worked at TASCOS as a secretary to the assistant director, and we were both to meet our future husbands there.

A few years after we married we left Birmingham to start new lives in Staffordshire. I moved to Rugeley, and Pauline to Tamworth.

When we moved to live in Rugeley I had two children. A daughter of three years and a son of two months.

After living in the busy city I initially found it difficult to settle and returned to Birmingham as often as I could. Eventually, I settled down, the children grew up, and left home to live their own lives. I worked at various jobs from running a mobile café, to working at Colourtrend a photography developing laboratory. My job was to adjust the colours in faulty photographs. I enjoyed this job tremendously. The trouble started when I found that having to sit for long periods of time hurt the base of my spine.

In the end I had to leave that job and others that I tried. I decided to work for myself and I started my own cleaning company. At least I would not be sitting for long periods of time. At this time my husband worked at the pit and they went on strike. We had bought a detached Victorian house near Rugeley. We realised that with my husband being on short time we were going to lose the house. I searched the area and found a smaller semidetached house almost opposite town but the canal was not far away and it was almost countrified. It was quite nice as there were only four houses down the lane. There was a transport business at the top of the lane but they did not bother me.

All went well with my new cleaning venture then tragically my daughter lost her first baby. It was a sad time for all concerned. Time passed and one day my daughter mentioned that she wanted to visit a clairvoyant and asked if I would go with her. I hoped that the clairvoyant would reassure her that all would be well if she tried for another baby. I knew that she would have another baby but did not say anything.

As it happened, a clairvoyant worked from a shop about a five-minute walk from where we lived. I found the reading she gave my daughter interesting and wondered how she managed to gain so much information from a pack of playing cards. I also felt surprised that she did not offer any sympathy or reassurance that all would be well in the future for my daughter.

I was so intrigued by the clairvoyant’s reading that I decided to book a reading for myself. Little did I realise that the reading would prove to be a huge turning point and change my whole way of life forever. I must admit that after having the reading, I was sceptical and laughed, saying, ‘None of this will happen!’ I had to eat my words as the next day I received an unexpected cheque in the post and remembered that the clairvoyant had predicted this. The same day two more things that she had said occurred.

That evening I sat down and thought about the reading and read the notes I had made (I am a huge note taker). I recall thinking there is more to this card reading than meets the eye. I decided to find out as much as I could about the subject.

I felt quite excited about my new venture but hadn’t a clue what I would discover along the way. I had visited the local library to see if there were any books on the subject. No joy there and the same in our local bookshop, so Birmingham it had to be. Not that I minded. I loved going into the city, and why not? It’s my home town. I was born on the outskirts of Birmingham, and to me going there is always like going home. Anyway, I had the perfect reason to go: I needed tarot cards and a couple of books. It took me a while to locate the cards, but I found exactly what I wanted in Waterstones, in New Street. I was delighted and selected two packs of cards that attracted me. Instinct told me that they would work for me. I also bought a book about the meanings of the cards. I also decided on the way home that I would buy a crystal ball. I had not a clue where they were sold. I looked forward to learning everything I could about my new venture.

That evening, speaking on the telephone to my mother-in-law, I told her what I had bought. She was so excited for me and insisted I bring them with me when I next visited her so that I could give her a reading. She had such faith in me and my abilities and, unbeknown to her, she gave me a huge confidence boost. My mom was intrigued and also said to bring the cards along when they came to the mainland (they live in Guernsey). I did tell both moms that it would take me a long time to teach myself the meanings to the cards and then discover the way of reading the cards that suited me best.

To my surprise, my sister Pauline was quite horrified at my news and shrieked down the telephone, ‘Burn them, Carol, they’re evil!’ I told her to calm down and said that the cards worked for the good of people when used correctly. As far as I knew, she had never had a reading and knew nothing about the cards. She muttered scathingly, ‘The occult, yuk!’ I left it at that. It seemed that she was not in favour of my new venture. 

Instinctively I knew that giving tarot card readings would be right for me. More than anything I wanted to use them to help people. The reading I had from the clairvoyant had been so fast I had forgotten most of it. I felt even more determined to achieve my goal and forged ahead with my plans for the future regardless of any opposition.

***

While teaching myself the cards, I visited numerous clairvoyants and mediums; this was my way of researching the subject. There were very few books in the bookshops. But I was always determined that I was going to succeed. I found it all fascinating.

I needed to practise how to read the cards for people. My husband was not interested, but fortunately my lovely mom and mother-in-law were.

I was also lucky to meet a lady who read the playing cards for the general public; she gave me a lot of information about how she started her career and how it had progressed over the years. She had done very well for herself as she worked in Birmingham city centre. She rented rooms on the first floor of a huge building along New Street. Her name was Joanne.

In the course of my research, I visited psychic fairs and watched and listened to how the readers worked. I also visited Spiritualist churches. I know strictly speaking that Spiritualist churches are nothing to do with tarot card readings but the mediums who give platform readings give out messages of hope from loved ones. I must admit I have never received a message, but I do know many people who have. I visited quite a few mediums in my quest for proof but eventually realised it was not meant to be; I stopped going.

My research progressed, and after twelve months I knew the tarot cards inside out and had also acquired a crystal ball. My lovely father-in-law had sent away to London and bought one for me. How lucky I am. I was all set to float my new business.

Pet Reincarnation?

I have recently been reading Bruce Cameron’s books (and watching the DVDs) about a dog that has led numerous lives. I have found the books a fascinating read.

I am a dog lover, and reading the books made me wonder about the dogs that I have owned over the years. I wondered if reincarnation is possible with our pets when it suddenly dawned on me that yes, it is entirely feasible to think that our pets can find their way back to us through many lifetimes. Why not? If humans can return, why not our pets?

Years ago, I owned a beautiful black German Shepherd dog. She was a fearsome looking creature when fully grown, but in reality, she was very docile and wouldn’t hurt a fly. I trusted her implicitly. She was faithful to me throughout her life and never left my side. I loved her with a passion.

When I took her out for her daily walk, people, who did not know me would cross the road rather than walk past us. My dog, Connie, kept me safe at all times. At that time, my husband worked nights, but I knew we would never have intruders. One look at Connie and they would soon run.

After she died, I missed her so much I could not face having another dog in the house. The emptiness without her beside me was unbearable. I grieved for years. But slowly as time passed the pain eventually became a dull ache, it felt strange to me walking without my doggie companion. Most of all, I missed loving a dog. So, I decided the time was right to choose another dog.

I had a Beaded Collie Cross/Golden Retriever bitch. I called her Sophie.  Somehow, I also acquired her brother, who I called Boyden. Sophie was always full of life and forever running up and down and around the house and garden. From the word go, Boyden, chose to stay beside me. Like Connie where I went Boyden came with me.  Even when I went shopping, he chose to come along, the same as she did. There was one person who visited us who I disliked intensely. Connie sensed this from the person’s first visit, and she would growl when she heard his car come over the bridge that led down the lane to our house. She would moan in her throat whenever this person came into the house. Connie did not trust this person one inch. Neither did I, and she picked up on it from the start. When this person visited after I had Boyden, the same thing happened.  Both dogs sensed the deception in this person and the untrustworthiness of them. I was amazed at how Connie would recognise the engine noise of our friend’s cars when they came down the lane. She always alerted me when they were coming. Connie was amazing as was Boyden.

Sophie was far more independent. Of course, when we took them out walking, they enjoyed a run together around the woods and fields, but he always kept me in his sights. Unless he and Sophie saw something (like a squirrel) to chase, then they’d be off. Not that they ever caught one or came near to it. They would stand at the foot of the tree where the squirrel had disappeared, wondering why they couldn’t climb it!

I adored both dogs and could not imagine a life without either of them. The years flew by, and I noticed Boyden began to tire within a short space of time when we were out and about, and he would ask to go back to the car. My boy was aging fast. I hoped that he would pick up again but no, he didn’t he went downhill and by this time he was deaf and practically blind. Although he always knew where I was, and Sophie helped him along. Sophie was fine; she was a lot slimmer than him; he, Boyden was a heavier build. He wasn’t overweight just heavier, but he experienced difficulty walking and getting on his chair became painful for him. I knew he wouldn’t last the year out, and my heart was breaking. The thought of losing him was unbearable, and I knew Sophie would miss him just as much as I would. I dreaded being without him. But I would never let him suffer.

The day arrived when I had to kiss my boy goodbye. I thanked him for sharing his life with me. I knew he would always be with me, but that did not help ease my pain. Then my best friend was gone. I was happy that he was no longer suffering, but the ache for him and Connie has never left me. I would often sit and compare how similar Boyden was to Connie; Not in looks but in almost everything that they did.  I wondered how two dogs of different breeds and sex could have the same traits. But I never once thought of dogs and reincarnation. That is until I read Bruce Cameron’s books,  then two and two became four, and I realised that of course, Connie had returned to me as Boyden. It was blindingly obvious. He was so like her that I could not believe I had never realised that Connie had returned.

Boyden

Poor Sophie suffered for months after Boyden had gone. She would stand for ages looking up the garden for him. She would cry as she sniffed for his scent around the house. Of his scent gradually dissipated but still, she mourned. I never got over losing him so I couldn’t expect her to. He was her brother after all, and they had been the best of friends.

After I lost Sophie, I could not even entertain the idea of having another dog. I knew that there was no way I would ever love another dog.

Often of an evening, we would hear the sound of them pattering about in the kitchen. We would look at each other (hubby and I) in disbelief. How could we hear them after they had died? But we did.  Walking upstairs when I went to bed, I would often feel them rush past me. I knew it was them as it was what they always did. They would lie beside the bed when I read every night. It was so lonely without them, but I comforted myself that now they were pain-free and together forever — my boy and girl.

‘No more dogs,’  I said. Huh! I now have George, who is certainly not reincarnated from any dog I ever had. George is George. Loyal, caring, affectionate, and a little demon! He’s five the day after Boxing Day this year. I wonder where the years have gone.

George

If anyone should ask me, do, I believe in reincarnation for pets? The reply would be yes. Do I believe that people who have passed over can return if they choose to? Yes, I do.

Next blog  - Coming soon - Reincarnation