This book is available online and also in some book stores and shops. 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 too.

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.

                                               

JACKIE WEAVER

If you do enjoy the book, I would  be most  grateful for the feedback  that these  online stores
ask  for, it all  will help to spread the word  for others  to enjoy.  But  most of all, gives people
the opportunity to find out what wonderful things animal communication can bring, such as;             Love, Peace, Understanding, Emotional healing and  Harmony.

Copyright Jackie Weaver - Animal Communication - www.animaltalking.co.uk

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, 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!

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 concrete wall, a foot thick!”
“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 anything.

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!

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 visions 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!