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Amber's Journey
Amber's Journey
Amber's Journey
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Amber's Journey

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The story centres around a collie who lived with a family in a tenement building in a deprived area of a small rural town called Brentwood.The collie becomes overlooked within her human family and ultimately finds herself on the streets forced to fend for herself. She is picked up by the dog catchers and placed in an animal shelter where she waits for her human family to collect her but in vain.She eventually catches the eye of a retired nurse seeking a dog companion and is adopted by her.Her new found family has encountered grief through the premature and tragic death of two members of their family through a drink driving accident. The dog becomes a source of healing and comfort to the various members of the family including Kevin Beth's ten year old great nephew a hyperactive but socially inadequate youngster whose life the dog saves and the bond between boy and dog becomes inseparable.The dog has a part to play in all the lives of this family where hospital life and farm life plays a great part where hurt and woundedness is healed where faith turns tragedy into triumph. Beth's voluntary work in the hospital where she trained involves her faithful collie in serving in the cancer ward as a 'working' dog bringing charm and delight to severely ill children.Beth also comes under the magical spell of her four legged friend when she finds love in her later years.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 26, 2013
ISBN9781481782494
Amber's Journey

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    Book preview

    Amber's Journey - Elizabeth Clark

    AMBER’S

    JOURNEY

    ELIZABETH CLARK

    US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.ai

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2013 by Elizabeth Clark. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 03/28/2013

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-8248-7 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-8249-4 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    CONTENTS

    Chapter 1 The Shelter

    Chapter 2 Amber

    Chapter 3 Amber The Heroine

    Chapter 4 Amber The Defender

    Chapter 5 Amber The Working Dog

    Chapter 6 Kevin The Boy

    Chapter 7 Memories

    Chapter 8 Reconciliation

    Chapter 9 New Beginnings

    Chapter 10 Ambers Little Family

    Chapter 11 Chrysalis

    Chapter 12 The Decision

    Chapter 13 Celebrations

    Chapter 14 New Challenges

    About The Author

    CHAPTER 1

    THE SHELTER

    T HERE WAS A forlorn look in her eyes and her ears were down. They were the kind of ears that flopped and flapped in the wind when she ran and played. They could also stick up when that look of expectancy was on her face, usually when a treat was offered or a friend spoke to her or a paw was requested. Yes, she could look cute, but no one here knew that. In fact, she knew no one here. Even though people had been kind. It just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like being at home.

    A distant look clouded her soft brown eyes. Her black face tinged with fine gold hairs. Her fringed lashes long and curled bore a thin clear black line running from the corner of each eye creating an oriental expression. Her coat was jet black and shiny from the crown of her head reaching to her tail Black and tan hair entwining as it fanned and wagged in exhilaration.

    Now it lay limp on the hard stone cold floor of the kennel. Tan fur interweaved her front all the way down to her belly forming a waistcoat. Her paws were of the same golden tan and fringed all the way up to her elbows and hind quarters. She attracted visitors by her pleasant appearance but they soon, became only passers by as they moved to the next barred kennel. Some spoke to her kindly, but she gave them no more than a wary glance. It was never them. They were the special people in her life ever since she was a pup.

    She had lived with them in a flat two storeys up. Where she heard the neighbours complain, a flat’s no place for a dog. Look at the mess. It always made her feel guilty as she was left alone so long in the flat so by the time they returned she could hardly make it to the grass in time. She had waited so long to hear the scrape in the lock and air blasting in, welcoming and then the scamper downstairs to the toilet before the inevitable accident on the landing, recently scrubbed by crabby Mrs. Breen, at least the children called her crabby because she scolded them for playing on the stairs and chalking the walls but it was never them so who were they?

    They were the family she lived with. As a pup she had been a surprise for Julie. She was the youngest of a family of four, three brothers and herself. Julie played with her and hugged her and took her walks, but that was then when Julie was six years old. Now she was ten and more interested in roller blades and TV soaps.

    The boys being older had been great playmates when she was little. She would race them around the living room and get too boisterous in and out through Pop’s legs under the table as he ate dinner after work. Pop would often aim a kick at her in his annoyance which made her seek refuge in a corner for a while. It all used to be such fun. So how did she end up in this place? Yes, it was crowded with Pop Mama and the four children in the small flat and her toilet was so inconvenient two flights down, especially when everyone was out at work or at school, but it was home and it was with them. Their lives had just got too busy for her and the kids had lost interest as she grew from an orange and black fluffy ball to a sleek long legged always under your feet taking up the hearth body, it was home, what did it matter if attention was scarce? There was food and water and although not many treats and there were the squabbles who was to take her walkies. Had she become a liability? Was love turning to grudging tolerance, she wondered. The arguments used to be who would be favoured to take her walkies. What did she do wrong? Was it Mrs. Breen? Did she report the messes on the stairs? No it couldn’t be that. No one came and took her away. Was it her fault she got lost and the wrong people found her? Did anyone try to find her? She shook her head and her ears flopped. That chased that thought away. In spite of the selfishness that had crept into the family, they were okay. It just got too much for them. It wasn’t only the messes on the stair. It also happened a few times on the carpet as the hours had lengthened before she heard the scrape of the key in the lock. It was the look in Mama’s eyes and then the squabbles would start.

    No one wanted to clean it up. The boys said, It was Julie’s responsibility. It was her dog that did it. In the end, Mama cleaned it up and said, It’s the last time. What did she mean by that? It was the last time and here she was behind bars and waiting, but waiting for what? More passers by and why do they stare so. It must be the scratch on her nose. It was bleeding when they found her. She had been in a fight. She must have been in someone else’s patch. Territory is very important to some dogs. The only territory she had known was the four walls of the flat. Although she had liked them, she had hated that flowery wallpaper. It was all she saw day after day until the key scraped in the lock and then it was five minutes to perform on the grass. What happened to the walkies? She would look over her shoulder longingly at the other dogs and the children playing in the park. What happened to her red rubber ball, she wondered. Timmy took it to play rounders with his friends and she never saw it again and it was her only toy.

    After Mama had said that’s the last time she became a latch key dog. It was okay for a while, out in the morning and in at night, except for the occasional night, when no one heard her bark. At least there were no messes to clean up and no flowery wallpaper to stare at and toilet any time in the day. Mama was pleased with her clean carpets and life wasn’t that bad on the streets.

    She often looked with envy at other dogs as they passed on a lead with a smiling human. She really missed that. It’s called belonging. She longed to belong to a smiling human at the end of a lead. The lady humans looked the happiest while walking their dogs. Yes, there were down sides as well up sides in being on the road.

    She soon learned that, not everyone liked dogs and the cats she chased usually belonged to someone and not every green soft patch of grass was meant as a potential toilet. Some people took great pride in their grass. They cut it, fed it and even watered it, as if it didn’t get enough water from the skies. She also learned that dog poop was as unwelcome there as on the stair head at home or on the living room carpet.

    She learned that life outside the flowery walls was confusing. Some people would pat her head and others would aim a kick. She learned quickly how to swerve and twist to avoid the hard knocks in life. It was fun when she joined her other canine friends on the chase, whether it was cats or the ice cream van. She knew she was dicing with danger and just barely escaped a few encounters with the wheels of the van. She loved the thrill of the chase and knew when he came around. She could hear the musical chimes of his van on his arrival. It meant she could lick the drips of ice cream off the road and sometimes a kid would have an accident and drop their cone on the ground and she would mop up the mess with her tongue while the children ran home crying to get money for another. She took a little pride in cleaning up the messes on the streets. She felt at least she helped to keep the streets clean of ice cream drips. She couldn’t do much about the litter of cans and paper strewn about. That confused

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