This book is available online from the above companies and also in some book stores. Please email me for further information if you require it. I have put below the first three stories, so you can have a clear preview and help you decide if it is of interest to you, or maybe someone else. I hope you enjoy. The book is also full of lovely illustrations, but I have cut them from this to save page space, and apologies for the poor outlay, I am an amateur at this web stuff, so I found converting from a book format to this web page rather a difficult task!!

My normal opening conversation to someone asking for a
communication, is a quick 'hello' and so forth, followed by, 'Please be
careful what you tell me; I only want to know the animal's name, age,
sex and how long you have owned them.' So when Cybil, Polly's
owner, arrived at my house for a reading, I was a bit flummoxed, as
during the dispensing of coffee, she uttered, “She will fib to you!” I
think I looked a bit bemused and taken aback, but explained to her
that some animals can fib although it's a rare occurrence, and checked
that she still wanted to go ahead, which fortunately she did. Cybil came
accompanied by her friend who had been to me before, so then
handed me a photo of Polly, this lovely five year old, Flat Coat
Retriever cross, who was jet black, with ears pricked in expectation.
We must all have laughed for an hour non-stop; her dog was
so on-the-ball with such a wicked sense of humour. If she had been a
child in the classroom, she would be the one to sit beside to make the
time pass and learning seem less dull! Anyone reading this who knows
about Flat Coat Retrievers or who has ever met one, will know that
they are in a league of their own when it comes to exuberance and
amusing qualities. You can imagine how the conversation went with
this particular Retriever!
As I tried to tune in to Polly she gave me a picture of someone
wearing a variety of outfits in the oddest of colour combinations you
could imagine. I looked across at Cybil but she was dressed in jeans
and a blue jumper, so nothing out of the ordinary. I got Polly to repeat
the picture and then I had to say it as it was, albeit as carefully as I
could! I waffled something to the effect of, “Would you say that you
have be known to wear clothes that really didn't match, or even
clashed, so much so that people might even comment on it?”
This was met with hoots of laughter, “Yeah, I don't care what
I wear with what, the first thing that comes out the drawer will do!”
This was succinctly confirmed by Polly with the remark, “See,
told you I didn't fib!” causing much laughter all round.
I asked her about her health, and she said she had no problems,
but then added, “I am very good at the vets you know!”
I passed this on, and Cybil quickly interjected with, “Ha, told
you she would fib!” I asked her if she really thought that Polly was that
far off the mark. Cybil then explained that actually, on the whole, Polly
is good but that there is one part that she really isn't good about. Well,
in for a penny, in for a pound I thought; let's find out the real truth
here!
Polly immediately obliged by giving me a picture of her
struggling, which to me was like someone was trying to put her onto
something. She was straining on her leash and having no intention of
obliging. Using my logical brain I thought: was I looking at the surgery
table? I suggested this, and Cybil said, “Well you are nearly right, but
it's the weighing scales,1 so you were very close!” As Cybil was trying
to tell me her thoughts about why Polly didn't like it (perhaps it was
slippery) I suggested that we should really ask Polly herself what the
real reason for her objection was.

And this was her reply, “If I get weighed, and the truth is
known, I might get less to eat!” I couldn't disagree with that answer, or
the logic behind it, and really neither could Cybil. This also made her
realise that why, even in the house when she has tried to use her own
scales, Polly would make it impossible to pick her up by doing the
impression of a turtle on its back franticly waving its legs in the air.
She'd do absolutely anything to make sure getting lifted upon them
was not an option! Polly said that she wasn't overweight, and on
checking that fact, it turned out she wasn't. Polly, obviously listening
intently, followed this up with, “So why do you want to keep weighing
me?” This point was taken on board so we then assured her that there
would be no more weighing, and if the need ever arose, the vets would
have to do the old fashioned thing, and hazard an educated guess!
I later found out from her friend who had accompanied her,
that Cybil had been slightly worried about what her dog would say, so
hence the instant, “She will fib,” remark. This didn't happen and she
really enjoyed the chat, nothing personal or embarrassing was revealed,
animals are certainly not like that. I never hear, “Mum was kissing the
postman!” or anything that would cause offence. This is why I just
love working with the animals, as they will do their utmost to make
their owners feel good, show such loyalty, but obviously understand
fashion more than we realise!

What made Toffee Tick

I cannot take credit for the above title. It had been used in an
advertisement by the Riding for the Disabled (RDA) to highlight a
fundraising evening I was doing for them. Their manager Celia Baker,
who was also in charge of organising the event, thought it up. This is
the story of how I came to be involved in this evening.
Many people are sceptical about my work, so I was amazed
when, during a phone call regarding horses' teeth, I was asked for my
help by Celia! Celia is the manager of the RDA Centre but is also
affiliated with the adjoining Equine College, and, in a respectful way, I
would describe her as 'old school'. Everything must be done properly,
and when she asks for something to be done, she expects it to be done
today, not tomorrow. This is how life used to be, and to be honest,
most people over the age of 30 would wish it could go back to that!
Put it this way, if Celia was a matron of a ward it would run like
clockwork, be sociable, but you'd know where you stood too!
Once we had sorted out how many horses needed their teeth
doing, she said, “You're the talk of the county, you know!” which
rather took me aback. She carried on to say that she had heard many
stories about me and my work and had been finally convinced by her
friend, whose horse I had had a casual chat with whilst Bob was
working on its mouth. To be honest I had forgotten how the
conversation went, but it was quickly relayed back to me, and it made
me smile. The owner concerned listened to the various things that her
rather cheeky lad, Folly, an ex-racehorse had told me. She had been
polite enough to nod here and there when appropriate. When he said
he was really bothered about the flies that kept going in his ears and
biting them, she laughingly said, “Well, he hates me putting the cream
in them, so unless you can convince him otherwise, there is not a lot I
can do about it!”
So into negotiation I went: I put it to him that he can't
complain if he won't accept help, so how would he like to do this? He
said that although he didn't like it, he now realised what she was doing
with the cream, but, more to the point, it held him up from going out
in the field! He volunteered, that if she could do it quickly, he would
try and put up with it. I did my usual thing of asking him for a
'bonding key' and his was, “Two minutes Folly, just two minutes!” I
thanked him for our chat, and his dental work completed, Bob and I
left the yard.
The next day, Folly's still rather sceptical owner got out the tub
of fly cream and stood outside his stable door. So, with admittedly
some lack of sincerity, she said the agreed words and was stunned
when Folly put his head forward and down, and stayed dead still. As
fast as she could muster, she dipped her fingers in and managed to put
a layer of cream onto the inside of each ear. Then in her own words
she stood back and thought, “Oh my Lord!” She then obligingly put
Folly out into his field - after all he had given her his two minutes - she
shut the gate, rushed to the house and phoned Celia, starting with the
words, “You'll never believe this…!”
I was really chuffed with this result and appreciated Celia
giving me the update, and then asked what she wanted me to do for
her. As usual I asked her not to give me too much information about
the problem, and she asked me when I could do it. I suggested, “This
afternoon if you want?”
“Oh thanks,” she replied, and overheard her say to someone
in the background, “Oh great! Jackie's going to come over this
afternoon.”
I interrupted her and said, “No, I'm not coming over, I'll do it
over the phone, could I call you back in about an hour?”
Celia stuttered slightly and said, “But you can't see the pony,
how are you going to do that?” I said not to worry, found out his
details, his name, which was Toffee, his age and his description, and I
said we would speak later.
I tuned in with Toffee, a stocky 15 hand bay horse, a good
Irish Cob type being of the right height and build to be able to carry
children and adults alike. I asked Toffee to tell/show me something to
validate I was talking to him. He gave me a few things, but as there are
many horses at the centre, I needed something more. He then gave me
a picture of him standing with something in front of his feet, together
with the strong sense of not being willing to go over it. Celia was
trying to work out what this was, and I heard the girls behind her
confirm that he was fine about crossing the long narrow drain at the
back doors. I overhead them and said that it was not as wide as a drain,
in fact it was something like a hosepipe or an electric tape.
With that she exclaimed: “Gosh Jackie, you are a witch!” I
roared with laughter and said that that would be her description but
not mine, and that maybe she should not call me that to other people!
But actually she has introduced me several times as 'Jackie the Witch',
but from her I take it as a term of endearment!
Anyway, Celia explained that at the weekend the horses had
trashed the electric tapes attached to posts that were supposed to be
keeping them separated into certain groups. They had all gone off and
had found the grass field that was, until then, undisturbed, as it was to
be for their winter hay crop. Now, when I say all the horses, it was all
of them except Toffee who was left all on his own, standing behind
the tape that was left on the ground. Although these electrified tapes
do give a low-grade zap, Toffee was too scared to try and even jump
over it!
We chatted to him and covered various things, but whatever
Celia was trying to get at he was not bringing to the table, so to speak.
So I asked her to give me a bit of guidance to get the issue out into the
open. She said to ask him about the school - they have a lovely indoor,
sanded area that the horses are able to take the disabled children and
adults around. They are led by the army of wonderful volunteers under
the strict guidance and directions of Celia herself.
I asked Toffee to show me what he did in the school and he
showed me a vivid picture of him taking off like a scalded cat, and that
was exactly it. But it only ever happened at one place in the school.
He would walk round the school but when he got to a certain area; he
would just turn tail, dragging his handlers with him. He was so strong
and determined; they were at a loss as to how to stop this happening
and, more to the point, why. I sensed that this reaction was to do with
something outside the school rather than within it, so I asked if Celia
could get round the back to exactly behind the area that was spooking
him, so off she went with a mobile phone in hand.
I asked Toffee to help us by showing me what it was that he
was so frightened of. He repeatedly gave me a sound, no pictures, just
a tick, tick, tick sound which I passed over to Celia. She looked about
to see if maybe a branch was rubbing on the roof or something, but
nothing, but I insisted and asked: “What goes tick, tick, tick?”
“Oh no, no it couldn't be!” was her astounded reply.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It's the electric fence power unit, but he can't hear it, it's through a foot
of concrete wall!” 
“Oh yes he can, I can hear it from him, and I am 25 miles away!”
When she got over the shock and gathered her thoughts
together, she asked if we thought we could do anything about it, and I
said it was worth a try, but as usual I didn't promise anything1.
Often during a chat, an animal shows things for a reason. One
of his first pictures was the unwillingness to step over something. We
now realised why he would not go over the electric tapes; there was
obviously a serious fear here but he needed to be able to go down this
side of the school where there was no tape, just a machine through a
foot of concrete that could not possibly hurt him. We asked Toffee
what could we do to assure him that he would come to no harm; what
would he like us to do?
He asked if it was possible for it to be switched off whilst he
was in the school, and Celia thought that this would be fine, no
problem at all, but Toffee insisted on the belt and braces approach and
also insisted on a sign to go on his stable door in big letters saying,
'Have you switched the electric off?'
We met him on his terms and asked what bonding key words
could we give him, and it was very simply to walk him past and say,
'It's ok, Toffee.'
Although he did have some other insecurities, we left it at that
to see if we could at least get over this pressing issue.
With his stable door now adorned with the sign and the
electric unit switched off, Celia instructed someone to lead him past.
Off they went, down the side that he is not worried about and then as
he approached the 'tick, tick' area he yanked away from his leader and
proceeded to run away. Celia suddenly realised that she had forgotten
about the words he wanted, which prompted her to shout quickly,
“It's ok, Toffee!” And amazingly he pulled up from his frantic trot.
Celia then took him herself and said the words at the appropriate time
and place, and although he was very tense he walked on. This was a
huge step forward, so she tried again and again, and, to her amazement,
each time he got better and better. Soon it was the turn of a rider to try.
Firstly they led him and he went past, and in no time they were able to
ride him freely on a loose rein.
This change was remarkable, but as there are so many
volunteers, the number of times there was sudden panic as someone
attempted to take him down the previously 'no go' side of the school,
that it led to this story being repeated on many occasions.
I often explain my work as getting into the subconscious to
change things, and hope that the animal's conscious will allow itself to
be overridden now that the logic/fear has been explained and
understood, as with people trying to stop a habit, sometimes it works
and sometimes it doesn't. Fortunately for Toffee it worked.
I did mention that Toffee had other issues; at the end of the
day animals are individuals just like us, and they are suited to differing
types of work the same as we are. We had explained and sorted out his
worries about the electric fence unit, but in himself, he felt it was too
much responsibility to carry these disabled children and adults. They
had little or no balance, and although well supported by leaders, he
found it very disconcerting. Unfortunately, he showed this by using his
weight to barge people out of the way when he got worried; really not
ideal in this environment. He was eventually sold and has now got a
very good home as a happy hacker2, and there is one thing for certain -
he will never break out of any electrically taped paddocks!

A Bed for Life

Cheska, a beautiful roan Spaniel, whose eyes were showing the depth
of her anxiety, had been lucky enough to be re-homed to a very loving
and experienced dog owner called Annie. After a year of trying to sort
out difficulties with Cheska, Annie really was at her wits end. Cheska
was not being bad, but Annie could see the dog's distress and could
not get through to her and soothe her feelings. To compound the
situation, Annie kept seeing visions1 of Cheska in a former home - she
saw horrible images of brutality and neglect that sadly turned out to be
real. During the chat, Cheska relayed them to me too, confirming their
reality, so we now knew the extent of the damage done.
Unfortunately, this is not an isolated story; some breeding
bitches like Cheska, do get punished when they fail to produce a litter.
These poor dogs are really just a financial commodity where love and
respect is not part of the equation. Appallingly, one of Cheska's
owner's deranged reasons for beating her was for dirtying in her
kennel - but then if you don't let a dog out for days on end, which they
didn't, this inevitably will be the result. So Cheska now had a total fear
of doing what is a natural occurrence.
Having been so badly beaten, mainly to the head area, this left
her very defensive - but with such a desire to be stroked too, it broke
my heart to feel her pain. We talked it through and I asked her how
she would like the reassurance she needed, i.e. to know it would be a
safe stroke coming her way. She wanted Annie to instruct people to
touch her under the chin first, this way she would know that they
understood her fear and then she could trust them.
Another misunderstanding was traffic, which to a dog that has
been kennel-bound is quite understandable, so I asked her to explain
the fear more precisely. She showed me an image of her shying away
and said that she was frightened of cars hitting her, and gave me a
most fearful heart pounding in my chest. Logically thinking, how
would she know that there are roads for the cars, and pavements for
us? So Annie and Cheska went off to do traffic watching, and Cheska
now realises that there are rules for cars and that she is not in any way
unsafe when walking on a pavement.
All the baggage that these poor animals carry weigh them
down so much that they get in that catch 22 situation. They are so
scared of making a mistake that they overreact in certain situations and
then they make a mistake. I explained that we all make mistakes too,
we humans certainly do and quite often too - also, we humans often
have husbands, and they are always making mistakes!
Many people do not give me an update on their animal's
progress after a reading, but Annie wrote to me within a couple of
weeks. I was so touched because she said that the difference in Cheska
was 'immediate and amazing'. Apparently she was so much happier
and more settled, and had started to relax in people's company without
that terrible fear.
During our next chat, Cheska had described the new bed that
she really wanted, just to make her feel totally at home. Annie said she
would go out that weekend and buy her one. Annie sent me another
letter, with photo enclosed, showing how Cheska was so pleased with
the subsequent new bed, and told me how she had sat down in it
before Annie had even decided the proper place for it. I was so
delighted for them both.
I had another chat to Cheska about six months later, and she
truly is a changed dog. She was so chatty and very secure with Annie
and her family, and simply loving life. The other thing to note is that
the horrid visions that Annie was picking up from Cheska have never
been shown since.
This was another very emotional case, but we got there and I
will be keeping in touch with her owner. Incidentally, Annie found me
through an article written about me in a paper about a year previously.
For the headline, they had actually called me 'Mrs Doolittle' which had
caught her eye. It was a large article explaining how I work and how I
came to do it, in the hope that it would inspire others, that sometimes
when the chips are really down, that miracles can happen, so never
give up hope. She had cut it out and kept it, even though at the time
she didn't even own a dog! I truly think that hand of fate was working
again.

Thanks for reading them, and please note that the material is subject to copyright. Should you wish to use an extract/story, please contact me.

                                               

Copyright Jackie Weaver - Animal Communication - www.animal-insight.co.uk