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About six months after her death, I saw Girl again. It was a summer afternoon around five, and the sun was shining as I waited for my order outside a local taco restaurant. My car was parked about eight feet away. I turned from watching the cook and glanced toward my car, and there was Girl! She was sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for me as she always had. Her tongue was hanging out and her golden eyes were sparkling. I was momentarily stunned and could not move. Although I didn’t doubt what I was seeing, I wanted someone else to see her, too, to validate my vision. Without taking my eyes off Girl, I began to tap gently on the counter to get the cook’s attention, but he did not respond. I tapped for about 15 seconds, and then my eyes began to burn as I stared at the apparition. When I finally blinked, Girl was gone. The driver’s seat was empty.




My husband and I were childless, so I thought it would be nice to get a dog. Before I was married, I had owned an Airedale, whom I dearly loved, but this time I wanted a smaller dog with the same characteristics. When I saw a picture of a Welsh Terrier, I knew exactly what breed my new dog would be. I approached my husband, who seemed quite resistant to adding a dog to our family. “A dog,” he grumbled.“You don’t really want a dog, do you?” “Well,” I replied, “it’s a dog or it’s a baby. Take your choice.” My husband opted for the dog!

My husband and I often worked together on construction sites and our dog Basil usually came along with us. Just for fun, we frequently dressed him up and took pictures. One day we set him on a chair in our office, wrapped a Levi jacket around him, and placed his left paw next to a coffee cup. His pose was hilarious, and we quickly grabbed the camera. It turned out to be one of my favorite pictures. I believe Basil found it as amusing as we did. In any event, he was surely a good sport.



  Besides being smart, she was also the grouchiest cat I ever knew. My brother described her as being “fifty percent suspicious and fifty percent curmudgeonly.” Lance was very possessive of me and was always nasty to my mother when she came to visit. My jealous cat would hide under the bedspread and lunge out to attack my mother, who had done absolutely nothing to provoke her. Lance also did not appreciate the four basketball players from the Central African Republic who were living in my basement for a while. We had only one bathroom, and it was on the second floor, where my bedroom and office were located. Lance considered my area to be her personal territory. She would plant herself on the stairway and not allow the men to come up! It was hilarious to see a man over six feet tall backing down because a cat would not let him pass. I would frequently have to intervene so the fellows could use the bathroom.  

Count Bri-Dar-Kel

  About two weeks after Count’s death, I was riding Shiloh into one of our favorite fields. The day was bright, clear, and dry, with no hint of fog or moisture. Moving through the area where Count always liked to gallop, I saw a mist appear suddenly, about ten feet to the right of me. It floated along with Shiloh and me, and then moved ahead. I couldn’t help but notice that the colors in the haze reminded me of Count — white with hints of brown patches. My horse began to whinny, letting me know that he wanted to gallop and catch up with the cloud. I let him go. We caught up, and for a few minutes we moved together, until I noticed the mist begin to fade, and then it abruptly disappeared. Once it was gone, Shiloh slowed down and whinnied repeatedly, looking all around. Eventually he stopped, sighed deeply, and lowered his head with his ears drooping. I dismounted. The two of us just stood there for some time. I believe the mist was Count. Shiloh’s reaction proved that to me. I remember thinking, “So good to fly through the fields with you one last time, Count!”  


  One thing Speeder didn’t like was swimming or getting wet. For that reason, he absolutely detested our pool and hid every time we put on our bathing suits. In spite of his protesting, I put Speeder into the pool once a year to reacquaint him with the location of the stairs so that if he fell into the water, he would know how to get out. On one particular occasion, the weather was quite hot, and Speeder had just endured his yearly visit to the pool. Afterward, I placed him on a big blue float and let him “tour” the pool. He sat calmly and thoroughly enjoyed himself now that he was safe and getting dry. He had no idea how hilarious he looked just like a big, drowned rat. The scene was so comical that I took his picture and submitted it to Dog World magazine. They loved the photo and one summer published it as their centerfold!  



We did not talk about “replacing” our cats, our first “babies,” so consequently, there were no animals in the house for some time. About four months after we lost Brandi, I was getting ready to go to the school where I worked as a special education teacher. My first class was later in the morning, and my husband had already left for work. For some reason, I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to play the videotape of Barnaby wearing his red baseball cap and batting at the ice chips. As I was watching it, I became aware of a noise in the hallway right next to the bedroom. I stopped the video and listened. Again I heard the sound — pitter-patter, pitter-patter, as if an animal was walking with light footsteps. Then I heard a tinkling noise that sounded like Barnaby was close by. Whenever Barnaby used to walk, the tag on his collar would hit the buckle, making that exact sound. I felt eerie. “What’s going on? Are you there, Barnaby?” I wondered. Despite feeling a bit “spooked,” I went to search for a cat that couldn’t possibly be there. As I walked down the hallway, I continued to hear the footsteps and the tinkling of the tag. I somehow sensed that Barnaby was near, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. The sounds lasted about a minute, and then silence filled my home. Looking out the window, I noticed it was snowing — unusual for that time of year. I finished dressing and left for work.




Four days later, and now in my new home, I was sitting beside the bathtub watching my youngest child play in his bath. The bathroom was situated in the middle of a hallway, and the door was open that morning. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I saw Bone! I glanced up to see him take a few long strides and stop in front of the bathroom door, holding his back leg out in his typical pose. The vision of Bone in the doorway was distinct. We actually made eye contact and then he disappeared. Everything I witnessed was characteristic of his behavior when he was alive — walking with a long stride, stopping frequently to extend one of his hind legs, and then looking around before he continued on his way. Nothing was unusual about what I saw, except that Bone was dead!


Writing the Book

Can pets return from death to communicate with their owners? I believe they can! Tails from Beyond presents 47 true stories about deceased pets that do, indeed, contact their owners.  There are 34 stories about dogs, 12 about cats and one about a horse.  The book includes numerous colored photographs and 10 original drawings. Tails from Beyond brings forth powerful anecdotal evidence that animals like humans have a soul, or some form of energy consciousness, which survives and exists in the afterlife. 

To gather information to document these afterlife events, I used emails, questionnaires and conversations, and usually communicated with each owner several times before feeling satisfied that I had enough material to write the story and to confirm in my own mind that the encounter was valid.  I am amazed and grateful that so many people all over the United States trusted me enough to share intimate details about their experiences.  After completing the stories, I sent all contributors a working draft of their story and had them sign to verify the accuracy, and to give me permission to publish.  Minor descriptions were sometimes added later for enhancement, but the details of the paranormal events were never altered.

...Dr. Ann Redding

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