Enter Spice , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd - Laurie Brady

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53 pages

English

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Enter Spice is a sequel to Enter Donegal. Spice, a charming Cocker Spaniel arrives at the Ellis home after Donegal has gone, and obviously at his request. She is readily accepted and loved by all family members. With the gifts of walking upright, speaking, reading, writing and singing, she helps Scott and Lara in their 'love' relationships, frustrates the attempt of a work colleague of Beth's to prevent her promotion, and rescues children lost in mountainous bushland.Her hilarious 'coming out', or revealing her talents, causes a sensation on 'Australia's Got Talent' and results in her kidnapping from which she manages to escape in a surprising and unusual manner.Her own brush with near-death leads her to devote herself to helping the seriously ill in hospitals.Like Donegal, she makes a very different announcement that has implications for the whole Ellis family.This heart-warming novel underlines the significance of animals (dogs in particular), demonstrates the value of all living things, indicates ways in which we can help one another, and asserts the triumph of goodness over evil.

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
Date de parution	30 novembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781398446885
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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Extrait

E nter S pice
Laurie Brady
Austin Macauley Publishers
2022-11-30
Enter Spice About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
About the Author
Laurie Brady is a published poet, a writer of short stories, a novelist, and a great dog lover who lives in Sydney, Australia. He has a keen sense of humour, particularly a liking for the ridiculous, and a love of literature and sport. He has spent most of his working life as a teacher and a teacher educator, promoting engaging and quality schooling. He retired recently as professor of education at the University of Technology, Sydney.
Dedication
To Brady, Georgia, Kayla, Lachlan and Joshua, and to dog lovers everywhere.
Copyright Information ©
Laurie Brady 2022
The right of Laurie Brady to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398444850 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398446885 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published 2022
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd ®
1 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5AA
Chapter 1
Sometimes people see the weather as a sign. A hot and sunny blue day is a sign of good things to come. All is well with the world. But a wet and miserable day may mean that everything is not going to be alright. Or if there is a storm, with lightning and thunder, it might be a sign that something big has happened, or is about to happen.
There had just been a furious storm. The thunder sounded as if the world was breaking apart, and lightning knifed the sky in jagged cuts. It was now raining steadily, lashing the windows, and a wind was blowing like a shrill note on a recorder.
Tom Ellis, now in his late forties, had reason to believe the weather was a sign. He’d just lost his dog Donegal, his close companion of many years, and was feeling very sad. He loved his family, but felt as though a large part of his life had crumbled away to nothing.
Donegal had been no ordinary dog. He’d been with the Ellis family for three years before he suddenly, without warning, revealed to Tom that he could walk and run upright like people, talk, write, and play sports. He had become more than a family pet. He helped Tom’s two children, Scott and Lara, with their homework, he played with them each afternoon, he rescued children and other dogs from harm, and his advice to all members of the family was always proven to be correct or wise.
Donegal had a good idea of how long a dog might live. It wasn’t as long as people. It was often said that one year for people is the same as seven years for dogs. So, after a few years, he had stopped walking upright, talking, writing and playing human’s games with Scott and Lara. He returned to being a normal dog, sleeping in a kennel, eating his kibble and a raw bone, and he had wandered away at nights after his walk with Tom. He had announced that it was time he started to help other dogs.
A few years passed and Donegal resisted all the attempts of the family to have him return to the almost human dog that he once was. Tom’s wife Beth was secretly pleased that Donegal had returned to being only a dog. She hadn’t been sure how she should behave towards a dog who was as much a man as a dog. She found it hard to pat and stroke him when he was standing upright, and was as tall as she was.
Scott and Lara wanted him to be the celebrity he once was, because it made them celebrities too. He was always on television and in the newspapers. They couldn’t understand why he was a mere dog again. They thought like most people that Donegal had suffered some sort of medical problem that had changed him. Something like a stroke. Perhaps it was the hand of God. Some people said it was God’s way of restoring the natural order of the world.
In time, the family’s disappointment became acceptance. They weren’t children anymore, and it had been some time since they’d played with him after school. They’d grown older, and had developed other interests. Donegal was still very much loved, but he wasn’t the centre of their lives as he had once been.
Scott still lived at home, but was twenty-one, and had a girlfriend, Tiffany, with whom he spent a lot of time. She was well liked by the family. Lara was nineteen, and at university studying to be a vet.
Tom had been aware of the signs of ageing in Donegal. Even he complained of the arthritis in his back from running upright, and the hint of grey around his snout. The others hadn’t noticed, so his death had come as a complete surprise and shock. For them, there had been no warning.
They were all terribly upset, but the night of the storm, Beth, Scott and Lara had been convinced that they should go to the show that Beth had bought very expensive tickets for weeks earlier. It might cheer us up a bit, she’d told them, though she only half believed it. But when it came time to go, Tom couldn’t. The thought of enjoying himself just didn’t seem right. He was hurting too much, and going out wasn’t going to help. He would make the others even more miserable. So, Tiffany was given his ticket and Tom found himself alone in the house at night.
He was desperately lonely, but didn’t want to be with anyone. When the storm arrived, he’d been moving from room to room. He was so restless, he couldn’t sit still in one place for more than a few minutes. The lights were off. He didn’t want them on. They lit up too many memories. There were enough of them without lights. The time Donegal first spoke and went upright to make the coffee. The time he rescued the little girl from drowning and lay exhausted on the beach. The time he returned home with thirty dogs he’d set free from the council pound. The time he single-handed or single-pawed, captured the burglars trying to rob them. The time he told the woman enrolling students at the university that there was no rule excluding dogs from being students. And there were memories of Donegal in every room of the house.
Yes, the weather was a sign, Tom thought. It meant something huge had happened. Enough for the heavens to cry out. But even recalling these funny memories, Tom couldn’t smile. The pain was too great.
The thunder and lightning had stopped, but it was raining heavily. He was sitting in the family room when he heard a scratching sound coming from the back door. It was probably a small tree branch blown against the door and being agitated by the howling wind.
When the tapping continued and became louder, Tom went to investigate. It was black beyond the glass door, but he could make out something that wasn’t a branch. It was round and it moved, obviously an animal of some sort. The glass was foggy. He opened the door carefully and let in a wet and shivering cocker spaniel.
She stood on the tiled entrance, not daring to shake herself, the way dogs usually do. He’d later learn this was because she didn’t want to spray rain water over the carpet and furniture.
‘I’ll get a towel,’ he said aloud to himself, and turned to go to the laundry.
‘I’m Spice,’ the dog said in a gentle female voice. ‘Terrible weather isn’t it?’
Tom turned around quickly and stared. He was stunned. Spice stared back and smiled.
Then it was Tom’s turn to smile. ‘Oh Donegal,’ he said softly, and he turned his face from Spice so that she wouldn’t see his tears. It was clear that her coming must have had something to do with Donegal. He was silent for half a minute, unable to act or to say anything more.
‘Now about that towel,’ Spice reminded him. She was still shivering, and Tom, having suddenly remembered where he was, and turning again for the laundry, surprised himself by saying, ‘Sorry Spice.’
When he returned with the towel, Spice took it from him and dried herself, paying particular attention to her paws. She didn’t want to wet or dirty the floor. Her fur, once it was dried and fluffed-up, gained colour, and showed itself to be a chocolate brown with patches of white. She had honey-coloured eyes, and a soft white snout or nose. The twinkle in her eyes reminded him of Donegal.
He felt excited and also sad, a real porridge of feelings. He’d felt so good when she’d spoken to him. The pain he was feeling had eased. He didn’t know if she was here to stay. Even after only a few minutes, he hoped she was. At the same time, he didn’t want to feel that she was taking Donegal’s place. He didn’t want to feel that it was like a betrayal, that Donegal was easy to be replaced. But if her being here was Donegal’s doing, then it’s what Donegal would want, what she and Donegal had agreed to.
He didn’t know what to say or do. Where to start? What had she known of Donegal? Could she walk upright? She walked in the house on all four legs. Did she have a knowledge of almost everything you could find on the internet? What were her other talents? And how could she possibly have known of Donegal’s death only a matter of hours ago?
He settled for a simple beginning. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked. ‘Perhaps a hot drink? Do you like tea, coffee, chocolate or just hot milk?’ Then, thinking he might be expecting too much of Spice’s abilities, he added, ‘I can give you D