By Angela Towler, United Kingdom
I live in the United Kingdom and had traveled to London with my husband for a day. I don’t go there very often but occasionally like to visit the art galleries. After a good day out, it soon was time for our train journey home via the underground train to Paddington Station in London.
By Lois Stanfield, Minnesota
When my newly adopted, rescued Afghan Hound, Lila, came to live with my other Afghan, Pistachio, and me, I had to help her accept her newfound freedom. Eventually she graduated from being a dog who had lived in a kennel to a beloved house pet. After a while she blossomed into quite a character. She started talking all the time in the way dogs talk. She always had something to say and was quite definite about what she wanted. Ultimately, she ruled the roost.
By Geetha Murthy, India
Animals Are Soul Too!, by Sri Harold Klemp, slowly opened a new outlook toward animals and completely changed my views. I do not have a pet dog or cat, but the stories in this book amazed me by showing how animals react and behave. I realized the ECK, Spirit, is everywhere and present in animals too. I learned that a pet receives and gives complete attention and devotion to a person and teaches how to love.
By Harold Klemp
A young African woman was going to school with a friend’s family. As they were driving along, suddenly, in the middle of the road, they saw a dog. It was just sitting in the middle of the road; it wouldn’t move.
By Dannette Horton, North Carolina
At four o’clock on a Saturday morning, a dish crashing to the floor in the kitchen downstairs awakened me. I heard my ex-husband, Carl, making sounds as if he was in pain. (Although Carl and I are divorced, he is still my best friend and lives with us.) My thirty-seven-year-old son, Eric, was pleading in an urgent voice, “Dad, please try to sit up in the chair.”
By Allen Anderson, Minnesota
Standing in line at a sprawling grocery store, I placed five bags of large sweet potatoes on the conveyer belt. A mature cashier with a kind, smiling face (I’ll call her Stacy) enthusiastically said, “Leaf’s food!”
Startled, I looked up. Although I’d been in Stacy’s line a couple of times, she wasn’t usually the cashier who rang up my weekly haul of sweet potatoes. And I didn’t recall ever telling her my cocker spaniel’s name.