Communication...the eyes have it

 Years ago I did a course on hypnotherapy and actually qualified to be a hypnotherapist, one of the first things we were taught is how we communicate. 38% tone voice modulation 55% body movements, facial expressions, arm gestures etc and only 7% of the way we communicate comes down to words.
So when it comes to learning the truth your eyes are far more important than your ears.
Years ago I asked a question on FB "what is easier to fake love or lust?" and was genuinely amazed that many people argued lust was easier to fake. I think many people would like to believe that but I don't see how it is possible to fake lust, one of my mates summed it up best when he said "how the hell do you fake a hard on?" lust is visual your eyes don't lie. Words on the other hand, it is easy to lie with words, you can tell anyone you love them.
We are living in strange times, where people can see things going on, yet an authority figure or those in the media can describe something completely different is happening and people choose to believe the words, rather than what they can actually see taking place.
It is strange isn't it? I am sure we have all been in relationships, where everything we see points to something being wrong but we choose to believe our partners re-assuring words. Many have been in a situation where at their core they know their partner is cheating on them but when the person denies it we accept it as that is what we want to believe.
There must have been a time in the development of humans where our earliest ancestors did not have language, we did not have words, I think they must have been far more honest times. Make no mistake without words they could still have been able to communicate, it would just have been on a different level. A level that we have lost touch with or maybe more accurately, lost trust in. Many times we sit with close friends, partners, family members and instinctively know what they are thinking. We can share private jokes convey thoughts just with a look our a gesture.
The other one that fascinates me is how we communicate with our pets, we develop a deep emotional connection a connection that in my own case has always felt pure and uncomplicated, in many cases words detract from that purity within human relationships. Trust me pet owners know what there pets are thinking, just as pets are aware of what their humans are thinking, now how does that work? I find it amazing.
I am never quite sure how many people get to see my posts but some of you know I am currently writing a novel about my late dog Eddie, honestly his death and life affected me so much. Our connection was so strong, he couldn't speak a word yet he managed to make me feel more loved than any other living thing ever has.
So with regards to how us humans communicate, how difficult would it be to lie and mislead without the use of words?
It is funny isn't when it comes to truth many times it is our ears that blind us, our desire to believe the words of others when their actions are giving out a totally different message.
I have always felt we should trust our eyes and our feelings our gut instincts much more than we do but from my own experience I feel that probably makes life harder, especially in my case, when it comes to human relationships. Having said that I do have some very good friends and I have shared time and experiences with some lovely people.
It would be fascinating to do a Big Brother type experiment where you lock a group of people in a house for a period of time and see how they get on if they cannot use spoken or written words.

CHAPTER FIVE TYING THE KNOT

 

CHAPTER FIVE

TYING THE KNOT

During the month of July I had my 41st birthday Ed was convalescing and me and Jo were putting the final touches to our wedding plans, again it was all very hectic but it was so good to feel alive to feel part of something. I say that, me and Jo were very volatile, we were both, let's say 'complicated' characters. Looking back I might not have got married if it wasn't for Ed. Unfortunately for me I am one of life's worriers and have to constantly fight the voices in my head that are looking for reasons not to do things rather than just dive in. Jo was just the opposite. At times our characters worked quite well together the flip side was we had quite a lot of rows. I think Jo found me a frustrating person to argue with as I rarely lose my temper and certainly not with a woman.

Jo had been married before to Bob the Elton John lookalike, she had left him for a woman. When Jo had told me she was bisexual, i quite liked the idea of that, a bisexual hairdresser how very glamorous I thought, very exotic, nearly as good as a stripper. Full disclosure I was thinking threesomes! You have to remember I had led a very frustrating life.

Up until the age of thirty I had been condemned to live like a monk, thinking about religion though I should imagine monk's got more action. My crime, I was nice, too nice where the majority of ladies were concerned, especially the type I was attracted too. I was complicit in my celibacy, I was painfully shy, had zero self-confidence and regarded myself as worthless. Plus I had a problem with my foreskin (you weren't expecting that were you reader) it was ridiculously tight but even though I had plucked up the courage to express these concerns to my doctor when I was 16 I did not get a circumcision operation till I was 25. I carry a lot of bitterness and resentment about that.

Coupled with my lack of confidence, whenever women did show an interest, i just got swallowed up by fear and my own insecurities. Though much of the time the girls who fancied me were too nice. The irony is not lost on me!

In my first job though I had worked in a betting office the manager at the time was also called Joanne and I think the only thing stopping me there were concerns over my cock. Looking back I think if I could have had a normal happy life with anyone, she was probably the one it could have been with.

OK so back to July 2006, Ed was doing ok, though he was not allowed to go for walks and he was taking loads of steroids. I think I missed our walks just as much as he did. Due to the nature of my relationship, taking Ed for a walk often relieved a lot of pressure. I missed the "Mawninbiggleboiys" and the idle chit chat with random Whittlesey residents, at the time the majority of the residents of Whittlesey could be described as a bit random. I love Whittlesey people though, my Mums family are from Whittlesey.

Another thing Whittlesey had going for it and I should not really say this in a chapter about the run up to my wedding but there were lots of gorgeous women in Whittlesey. It was only a small town but it had an unusually large number of pubs and more importantly as far as i was concerned, hairdressing salons. There were some incredibly sexy looking women living in Whittlesey, yes indeedy Whittlesey was my kinda town.

So poor Ed was not getting any exercise, he was having to take loads of steroids and he loved to eat, not a good combination for an already big boned beagle. Plus he had to endure all the madness going on around him in the run up too the marriage. He did have Michael to keep him company though. After a turbulent start, they now got on pretty well and often I would find them sat together at the living room window...looking out, turning their backs on the chaos.

Jo was going to be married in a kind of plum coloured dress. I was very pleased with myself as I had channelled my inner Gok Wan and picked up a suit for £35 from Westgate House, it was black with a plummy coloured pinstripe. I was thinking colour co-ordination.

We got married at Peterborough Registry Office, with friends and family in attendance. G and my nieces were bridesmaids and the service went very smoothly, though Jo did struggle to get my ring over my knuckle, then of course it was loose. I had to take it off when we got home, it looked ridiculous, like a big bangle on a thin wrist.

After the service I popped home to check on Ed then went on to a pre-arranged meal for a few close friends and family, in a local restaurant, there were only about twenty people there and that is where we did the speeches. I don't actually mind standing up and talking to an audience, which is a bit odd considering my lack of confidence in most other areas of my life.

I had been best man once before for my mate Steve and I had been cool with that (once i started talking). He had his reception in a sort of converted barn out in the countryside and halfway through the reception a goat wandered in.

"Gary there is a goat" he pointed out.

"Oh yea" I said and smiled... animals always make me smile.

"Well?" said Steve.

"Well what?"

"Well...get rid of it"

"Why me?"

"Cuz you're the best man!"

I guess I could have argued that I knew i had to look after the rings, I knew I had to make a speech, tell the bridesmaids how lovely they looked, read out some congratulatory messages and toast the bride and groom but nowhere on my list of duties did it specify 'Remove goat from reception hall' but I felt that would be unnecessarily pedantic on Steve's big day so I set about shooing Billy Goat Gruff from the hall before he set his sights on the nibbles.

Anyway back to my own nuptials once the cosy after service meal had finished. I once again headed home to check on Ed, before getting ready for the evening reception at the Peterborough Rugby Club to which a larger group of people had been invited. Now that event did not go as smoothly as the meal. When we got there we realised there was another party going on for a load of Rugby Players! I would have preferred a herd of goats if I am being honest. I thought "Oh shit! Once they see all Jo's hairdresser friends all hair and boobs (some natural some fake, surprisingly it was around a 50/50 split) things could get messy." Added to that complication the DJ didn't turn up, this was very upsetting for Jo but I said 'don't worry me and my mate Kev will do it.' My mate Kev who was drinking a pint and chatting up one of the sexy Land Registry ladies I had invited said "What!?" I got the impression he wasn't keen on being Smashy to my Nicey, or maybe he had better things to do.

So I got on the phone to the company who were meant to supply the DJ. They apologised and said they would take 50% off the fee. I told them I wasn't paying 50% when he hadn't even turned up! "My wife is hysterical" i said. The fellow on the end of the line obviously fancied himself as a comedian and asked if I was marrying Catherine of Aragon?

"What!?" I found myself quoting Kev. "No not historical...hysterical!" I said in my most manly tone.

Anyway the DJ control centre sent out an emergency DJ who arrived about an hour later than the original had been scheduled to begin and the rest of the night went quite well... other than the bride and grooms dance! Now because I don't really like dancing, I get quite self conscious, Jo had agreed that I could choose the song. Well when I say I didn't like dancing I didn't mind the odd bit of raving. However, No Good by Prodigy, I felt probably was not appropriate. I still found myself in my new wife's bad books though. I could tell as we danced to Masterplan by Oasis that she had been expecting something more romantic. I looked out at the crowd which had circled around us as we danced and noticed that many of the hairdresser types were shaking their heads. Not good!

Once we had got the dance out of the way i wanted to get home to see how Ed was, which was understandable as the very next morning the wife and I were setting off to honeymoon on the beautiful island of Menorca and knew I was really going to miss him.

CHAPTER FOUR A HUMP IN THE ROAD

 

"Edward NO!"

"What's he doing?"

"He's humping again"

"Oh no what this time"

"Your slippers husband"

"Oh for God's sake"

In the summer of 2006 we were planning, a wedding, a honeymoon and the most painful cut of all for little Ed. Well not so little now Eddie was pretty big for a beagle, we knew he was going to be, he'd been fat...he'd been big boned since he'd been born, his paws were huge in comparison to the rest of him when we had first bought him home, back in January. Gradually we had got Ed's chewing under control. Well after a little spell, where he realised that as he had grown he could now reach the washing line. I would hear the wife yelling when she looked through the kitchen window at the freshly washed clothes out drying on the line, only to se a beagle puppy furiously tugging away at one of her bra's trying to pull it off. They say dogs take after their owners and it was apparent Ed had very similar traits to me. Thankfully Jo's bra's where built with big puppies in mind (34G Happy days) and Ed was unsuccessful in his attempt to get it off and run off with it. Like i said me and Ed had much in common. However after Jo had chastised him a few times he seemed to get the message, he had my sympathies! The wife's vocal chords were as big as her knockers. My theory was that being a hairdresser she had spent her adult life talking (she did talk a lot) over the sound of a hairdryer so her voice was loud at the best of times. When she shouted planes flying overhead experienced turbulence. I often thought if she went out in the garden and shouted Fe Fi Fo Fum the inhabitants of Whittlesey would look nervously skyward for signs of a beanstalk.

So, as I say Ed had gradually got the message about chewing, but had progressed from chewing to humping, he humped his soft toys, he humped towels, cushions on the sofa...he once tried to hump Michael and received a scratched nose for his over enthusiastic sexual impropriety. Nothing was out of bounds for Ed, he would hump anything. I think it was partly why the mother-in-law moved out. It was difficult to concentrate on what was going on in Emmerdale or the streets of Weatherfield while a rampant young beagle was attempting to hump your leg!? In fairness I am using a bit of poetic license there Ed did not tend to hump people, soft furnishings were where his thrusting preferences lay.

Soon to be married life was very full, Jo was a brilliant organiser she did most of the planning for our wedding and booked up the honeymoon, during our relationship Jo booked all our holidays, she was quite a force of nature in that regard. We had regular holidays and weekends away, she made sure we always had something to look forward too. I am always grateful to her for that. I however was left to sort out Eddie's operation, it was such a difficult decision but his humping was not really doing him any favours. I toyed with the idea of leaving it a bit longer but I was thinking along the lines of what you never have you can't miss. It is another decision I regret. Ed was booked in to have the cruelest cut very early in his life. His op was in July and me and the wife were getting married on the first of September.

Little Ed had his operation and was in and out on the same day, obviously he was a little sore but other than that he seemed fine. A couple of days later I came home from work and Jo had three friends round... all male!? Obviously I was not happy Ed was supposed to be convalescing he did not want my missus entertaining a trio of Whittlesey blokes!

"What were you thinking of?" I said after they had gone "Ed is supposed to be resting and we are off to watch a Shakespeare play tonight". The Land Registry had organised a trip to go and see The Twelfth Night at some outdoor venue and I had booked us a couple of seats. "Where is Ed anyway" The wife said he was in the conservatory. When I went to see him I got a real shock he looked terrible, he hardly moved other than to half-heartedly wag his tail. "Has he been like this all day?" Jo said he had been a bit quiet but put it down to his recent op. I was not happy and a bit unsure it was possible it could be because of his op and I knew I was a bit of a worrier. So we initially set off to go to the play, when we got to the bus though I couldn't do it. I told Jo we were going home I wasn't gonna risk leaving Ed on his own for four hours. We rushed back home and I sat up all night with Ed and the next morning we took him to the vets first thing.

Now apparently there is a thing called Beagle Pain Syndrome where the bodies virus fighting cells turn on themselves and this can be triggered by an illness or an operation and that was what was happening to Ed, it isn't very pleasant but it can be treated with a high dose of steroids. Unfortunately for us and especially Eddie the symptoms are very similar to meningitis and Eddie was insured... so the vets told us Ed had to go to hospital and have a spinal tap to rule meningitis out. They initially made no mention of Beagle Pain Syndrome they only told us about that after he had gone through the operation and spent a couple of days in hospital. I was really pissed off, if I had been given all the information I would have insisted they treat him for Beagle Pain Syndrome, especially as it seemed obvious this had all been triggered by me getting him neutered.

Poor Ed had to go on a high steroid dose for around four months, that is a lot of steroids and as I have previously stated he was big before he went on them. I was a bit disillusioned and very annoyed that he had been given painful invasive surgery which I think was unnecessary. I am sure had we not be insured they would not have done the Spinal Tap.

For the first time but not the last I had let him down.

CHAPTER THREE "EDWARD NO!"

 

"Edward No!"

"What's he doing now?"

"Only chewed my glasses!...the little sod"

The first few months in our posh new home were a tad trying, but deep down, for the first time in my life my base mood was happy. As a single person my base mood was sadness and frustration but i would have some really happy days. Now my base was happy but had the occasional bad day. It was a huge difference. I had to pinch myself at times, I had everything I had ever wanted. A lovely house, a fiance, a step-daughter, a job I enjoyed, a couple of cats and a naughty beagle, who was rapidly becoming the most important thing in my life.

In fairness to Eddie he picked up toilet training really quickly, very early on in his life he would start wandering over to the door and tapping on it, when he needed to go outside, he wouldn't bark or yap he would stand patiently tapping on the door with his paw until someone let him out. In that regard he was an absolute star. Where we had a bit of a problem was with him chewing...he wasn't picky he would chew whatever he could get hold of.

Family life did take a bit of getting used to, as I mentioned before I had never been a fan of children, even when I was a child myself they were not really my cup of tea. My first year at infants school I tried to run away every chance i got. I think the guards / teachers used to take turns in chasing me as I made my daily bolt for the gate in a futile bid for freedom. I was like a mini Steve McQueen in the Great Escape, my attempts always ended with me dying on barbed wire, metaphorically speaking obviously...it was infants school! It was once I started senior school that life became very frightening and violent.

So I did struggle with G, she was 9/10 years old and a bit complicated but having Ed around helped me enormously. A puppy just takes so much stress out of life. I often say dogs are just brilliant at neutralising stress. You come home grumpy after a bad day and your dog comes running to the door squealing and yapping with a look of pure joy on his face, your grumpiness just melts away. I have said on many occasions, in my advancing years, Eddie was the only living thing who managed to convince me I was loved.

As I say getting things right with G was difficult but I think I did ok. Every other weekend she would go to her dads, which helped. When I first met her Dad I was quite taken aback as he was a dead ringer for Elton John. Jo must have had a thing for the middle-of-the-road ageing popstar look, as much to my chagrin, once I started losing my hair many people compared me to Phil fucking Collins! On the plus side I guess I'd rather that than Elton John. Me and G's dad did not really get along but I guess it was a strange situation for both of us and to be fair the speed of which me and Jo went headlong into our relationship would be disconcerting for G and her Dad. The first time G met me, me and her Mum were already engaged!!

A further complication was that after a couple of months of living together Jo's Mum got divorced and came to live with us supposedly for a short, but worryingly for me unspecified, period of time. If we didn't have the cats and especially Ed I would have been losing the plot. Whenever i felt like i was losing control I would just spend some time with my boy and i'd be fine. Although I would get quite discombobulated, when I would walk into the living room of an evening and the wife (after we got engaged me and Jo had taken to calling each other 'husband' and 'wife' with me being husband and her being wife) the wife would ask me to sit on the sofa with her and her Mum to watch Coronation Street!? I would assess the situation. Ignoring the fact I could not stand Coronation Street. The wife was sat at one end of the sofa the mother-in-law was sat at the other end so the only space available was the middle seat. "Hang on a minute" the voice in my head raged. "You are the man of the house...the man of the house does not sit in the middle seat!" I am sure all men of the house would agree with me. The wife still got visibly annoyed when i politely declined scooped up Eddie and went upstairs to the spare room to watch the footy and play fight Eddie he would chew away at my fingers and I would have a permanent smile on my face just looking at him.

As I have previously mentioned we moved in at the end of January and for six weeks I did not get a sniff of a winner on the horses. I have always been a gambler I was never particularly good at it but this was a terrible run, we were into March, Cheltenham was coming up and I started to think I was never gonna get another winner. I convinced myself I had used up all my luck meeting Jo and getting Ed I went to the local Ladbrokes and did a double...which later in the day came in and I won £800 Get in!

Ed was now old enough that we could start going out for walks. I have to say I loved walking the streets of Whittlesey with him. The place was so much nicer than Peterborough, it was a bit like going back in time most people chatted, not surprising really Eddie was ridiculously cute and lots of people wanted to say hello. Maybe it was because I had spent much of my childhood there, maybe because it was not very multi-cultural at the time... agricultural yes but not very multi-cultural, whatever the reason I just felt really at home and really safe in Whittlesey, it sure beat the hell out of Woodston! After a few months a few of the older male residents of Whittlesey got to calling out "Mawninbiggleboiy" which I took to mean 'Morning Beagle Boy' as me and Eddie wandered by "Good Morning" I would wave back, it was a magical time for me.

During the first six months of Eddie's life he would sleep downstairs in the kitchen, well a little room just off the kitchen, which we later turned into a hairdressing salon when Jo set up business on her own. Eddie was never too keen on this set up and I went down one morning to find he had eaten one of my training shoes. Nikes!

The wife shouted down from upstairs. "What are you yelling about husband? We are trying to sleep up here"

"Eddie" I said "He has eaten my shoe!"

"Eaten your shoe?"

"Yes the little bastard"

"What all of it?"

"Well no not all of it the sole is still there but that ain't much use on it's own is it?"

I looked down at him and smiled "You rotten little git, you have to stop eating everything, you will make yourself ill, you wanna sleep upstairs don't you?" Ed started wagging his tail. I gave him his breakfast and then we went out for our morning walk.

"Mawninbiggleboiy...why you only wearing one shoe then?" (Not really I made that bit up.)

Chapter Two THE LIFE AND TIMES OF EDDIE BEAGLE

 

                                      

On the last Saturday of August 2005 I was in a nightclub called Chicago Rock, on my own, I liked going on my own. The reality was that it was a bit sad but I liked to think I could cultivate an air of mystery and I found it much easier to talk to females if I was on my own. If I was in a group I was far too worried, about being rejected, in front of a crowd. It has always been the case with me, one to one I am comfortable talking to anybody, in a group the narrative that plays in my head constantly tells me I am inferior, I am paralysed by feelings of doubt and worthlessness.

The previous month I had taken three weeks off work ten days before the date of my 40th birthday and ten days after. I did not want anyone celebrating my birthday. For me there was nothing to celebrate I was 40 single and in my eyes a total failure. Sadly for me, despite, making it quite clear I wanted no acknowledgement of my birthday on my last day at work...a full ten day before the date of my birth. I got into work early to find my desk decorated with streamers, balloons and shit. I handled the situation in a very mature manner I ripped down the streamers, burst all the balloons threw the other shit in the bin and cleared off down by the river for an hour. I worked flexi-time so it wasn't a problem.

When I went back to work my female colleagues were very disappointed by my actions, stuff em I thought I had made it quite clear i had nothing to celebrate, in my eyes they were drawing attention to the fact i was a useless sad singleton. Then they told me a chap called Brendan had thought I would like it. If I had been bigger, stronger and braver I would have just wandered around to his office and knocked the twat out. I didn't like Brendan he was a sly bastard who genuinely made politicians appear honest, if his lips were moving he was lying in addition he was the most prolific shagger in the office. So I guess i was a bit envious but he had stitched me up with two women I had previously got along very well with. He told them lies about me and then he moved in.

I then found out my lodger Barry, who also worked at the Land Registry with me, had organised a surprise party at the Bowling Alley. Once word got to him about my destruction of my decorations, balloons and shit he quickly set about cancelling the gathering. That evening I headed home, incredibly grumpy and with three weeks to kill.

People say life begins at 40 and i have to say for me personally things changed a lot when I hit that millstone, I know the term is milestone but i reckon millstone fits better. Ageing is rubbish.

Anyway where was I, oh yea Chicago Rock although I always go on about how useless I was and am with women Chicago Rock was quite a happy hunting ground for me, I had a modicum of success but I find it sad that I never really found a human being I was compatible with. It is very sad for those of us who don't, it feels like a waste of a big chunk of life. This particular night in August i was stood by the dance floor leering, well when I say leering I was admiring the females on the dancefloor. One woman in particular seemed to be making eye contact and bouncing her ample bosom,  in my direction. I watched her as she jigged about and thought to myself 'big boobs (well  i probably thought tits) small hands, small feet... She'd do' As she left the dancefloor I watched her walk away and was a tad disappointed as I observed she had an arse like an ironing board. 'Oh well'I thought 'beggers cant be choosers' I sound very shallow don't I? when it comes to looks I am, always have been and always will be (most people are aren't they?) hence I have spent the vast majority of my life alone.

In fairness though and I often wonder if women realise this, there is very little nuance involved when a man looks at a woman. A woman might ask if you like her hair, her smile, her outfit "does my bum look big in this?" that kinda thing.. The only question a man asks himself is 'would i or wouldn't i?'  With the woman I had just been watching shake her considerable stuff on the dancefloor...I would. Later that evening I got talking to her and got her number and found out she was a single mum her name was Jo and she was a hairdresser. I had always wanted to go out with a hairdresser I thought it was quite a glamorous profession which I likened to strippers... I really did!? (I would have loved to date a stripper or a porn star but hairdressers were high on my list too) I also found out she lived in Whittlesey I spent many happy times as a child in Whittlesey  when me and my sister used to spend weekends at my grandparents, so there were  lots of positives. In fairness the only negative was the ironing board.

Well it wasn't really a match made in heaven but we were two kinda desperate people and two weeks later we were engaged to be married. Seriously I am not messing about. It wasn't till after we got engaged that I first saw Jo without make-up, at the time I thought to myself 'her face is actually a bit like my work colleague's' a guy called Steve Bold but what could I do we had already purchased the engagement rings. Not great in my case as I mentioned in chapter one I have odd spindly alien type fingers that don't lend themselves to the wearing of rings. Obviously many people thought we were rushing things. Obviously we were rushing things. Me and Jo had been going out for a month engaged for two weeks, when my lodger had a serious chat with me telling me he thought it was all going a bit quick. When he had finished I had to tell him that I was putting the house on the market and was gonna be buying a property in Whittlsey with Jo and her daughter. Barry was quite shocked by this as I was a wonderful landlord and also he realised he could be made homeless. As it turned out Barry was able to raise the money to buy the house off me but he was very pissed off about it.

On the work front I had recently started working with Elaine who was in charge of training at the Land Registry, she had a big office on the top floor next to the staff gym. My staff officer was forever moving me about from team to team, which was annoying as it reduced my chances of promotion. I really liked Elaine though and it was cool being up on the top floor, me and Elaine went on to be good friends.

 I had not been up there long when I started getting strange sensations when going to the toilet. As someone who has been criminally rationed when it comes to physical contact with women whenever i did get a chance i really went for it and me and Jo were having a lot of sex. I was really enjoying myself, looking back I am not sure Jo found it quite so fulfilling not sure I was ever really her type. Like I say though I was having a great time. However I now had a real problem pissing.

Jo and I were spending every weekend together between her house in Whittlesey and mine in Woodston on the Saturdays I would look after her daughter, G, while Jo was at work. I think we actually purchased a house around November time, coincidentally from a woman who also worked at the Land Registry (as they say it is a small world) Oh yea and when Jo introduced me to her best friend Sarah I realised that I had had a blind date with Sarah around 6 months previous, so that was a tad awkward. Sarah had, had a few drinks when Jo first introduced us and was keen to tell  me she would break my legs if i hurt her friend. I clearly had not made a good impression on our blind date! 

As things turned out I did end up in hospital but not through broken legs. My problems with pissing got progressively worse and i was starting to get quite a lot of pain in my lower back. One Friday night in October I think. I was driving back to Woodston after spending the evening with Jo, when I started to get severe pain in my back around the kidney area. Obviously I have never been stabbed but it felt like a knife going through me, I thought i was gonna throw up. I staggered into my house and rang for an ambulance. I thought I was dying. The ambulance arrived and the paramedics were initially a tad dismissive "Where is the patient?" they asked. I informed them it was me and explained my symptoms. They drove me to hospital and gave me something for the pain but it wasn't really touching it. I arrived at hospital and was put on a trolley and there I stayed for thirty minutes writhing around groaning and generally acting quite pathetic. I had contacted Jo and she was on her way to be with me. In my head i was hoping she got there in time for us to say our final goodbye's! (I have always been a tad melodramtic.) Like I say after around 30 mins a doctor came in and asked me "On a scale of 1-10 where is the pain at?" "TEN" I cried and then added for extra impact "TEN TEN" The doctor must have thought I was a proper wuss. I was given some strong medication and the pain eased. Jo arrived looking very worried and that encouraged me to act with a little more courage. I was put on a drip and kept in for the weekend. On the Saturday a porter came and collected me and wheeled me down for an x-ray the silly sod nearly killed me as he neglected to clip off my drip. When we got to the theatre a nurse on seeing me let out an exasperated cry and ran over the drip was full of my blood and whatever was in the drip was all in me. I was as high as a kite!! By Sunday the doctors concluded  I had had a kidney stone which they believed I must have passed at some point. On the Monday Jo drove me home. I was the resurrection!

Anyway, we got a moving in date for the end of January 2006 and around that time I honestly think it was Jo who suggested we get a dog. I was all for that, as a kid I had, had a dog called Scamp who i got on my 12th birthday and she lived to be around 18 years old she was a lovely dog, very independent, full of fun and tough as nails. I have always loved animals especially dogs and was often finding strays and taking them home as a youngster. Although at the time me and Jo got together as well as having a lodger called Barry I also had a cat called Michael who had kind of set up home in my garden. Well actually there were two cats that hung around one called Nuisance had started hanging around first then Michael came along. I initially called him Mike Parr cuz he was ginger and when he first started loitering around I found him very annoying. So i named him Mike Parr, after the staff officer at the Land Registry who was also ginger and annoying. Where they differed was Mike Parr detested me, while Michael the cat had taken a real shine to me.

Me and Jo decided that we were gonna get a dog. I persuaded her that we should have a beagle, i had always loved beagles. The idea of having a wife a step daughter, a house in Whittlesey and most importantly a beagle puppy would have seemed a million miles away for the soon to be 40 year old version of myself who had, during a tantrum, been pulling down decorations, bursting balloons and filling bins with other celebratory shit only a couple of months earlier... but it was all actually happening. We contacted a breeder in Grantham and put our names down for a puppy. When we started talking about names G who was around 10 wanted to call it something like Fang!? There was no way I was gonna go along with that i wanted a boy and I wanted to call him Eddie. Eddie the Beagle. 

Eddie was born in November 2005 and the breeder sent us a picture of the litter all the pups were feeding except one puppy who was all black at the time and was looking back at the camera. I rang the breeder straight away and after finding out he was a boy I said i want him. So in early December me Jo and G went off to Grantham to have our first meeting with Eddie. It was a joy going into the house with all those gorgeous puppies running about yapping excitedly, I was in heaven. Which one is ours I asked. He is over there said the woman selling the pups...and that was the first time I saw Eddie he was laying down and was twice the size of all the other pups. In fact at the time he seemed too heavy for his legs, hence he was lying down and kinda crawling about rather than walking. he was beautiful though, even though he did look a bit like a draft excluder. I picked him up and fussed him and had to pinch myself as to how much my life had changed in such a short space of time. 

At that point it was too early to take Ed home with us, as it turned out we would be collecting Eddie two days before we moved into our new house and start a new life together, a hurriedly cobbled together brand new family. As I have mentioned previously I am a proper worrier but everytime I had doubts I thought about Ed and I knew there was no way I would be backing out.

As you can imagine those last few days of January 2006 were hectic to say the least. I was moving out of my house Jo was moving out of hers and along with moving into our new home we first had to go and collect Eddie from Grantham. I was so excited. I am a person who, thankfully for me as things turned out was never really into children. I never had any desire at all to have one of my own ... but puppies, very cliched but it was a dream come true when I carried Eddie from that house in Grantham back to the car, ready for the journey home. He stayed on my knee the whole time and was really good until we got a mile from Jo's house and he threw up all over me.

That night we all stayed at Jo's, we went to bed leaving little Ed in his cage but not long after 12 the little chap started crying and I went downstairs and slept on the floor next to his cage. The next day Saturday, Jo was working so I stayed home. I think G was at her Dad's that weekend. I spent all day playing with my new puppy in the garden. He was absolutely adorable, he was exactly the son i had always wanted.

The following Monday was moving day. God it was stressful looking back i have no idea how we did it, there was me my mate Steve from work my Dad and his mate Pete who had hired a van we had to empty Jo's house and my own, it was helpful that Barry had brought my old house so I did not have to take everything on the same day but Barry was adamant Michael was not welcome to stay so I had to take him with us, which i didn't really mind. Jo was taking Ambrose her old cat also, so along with Ed we had our own little zoo...all this had happened in five months! We loaded the van and the last thing we put in was Eddie in his cage. The new house was lovely, without a doubt the best place I have ever lived. we pulled up at around 12 lifted the back of the van and there sat Eddie, excitedly wagging his tail, welcome to your new home mate I said. It is gonna be an adventure for all of us.

Chapter One THE LIFE AND TIMES OF EDDIE BEAGLE

 

I am going to start my story at the end of Eddie's life as I want the story itself to be joyous, hopefully make people smile and (you have to be quite old to appreciate this) give anyone reading a ready brek glow. Sadly I need to get the hardest part out of the way first.

Here goes, this is going to be very difficult to write but it is about time i did it and like I say let's get it out the way then we can go back to the start and have some fun.

CHAPTER ONE - THE END

Eddie Beagle died on the 3rd of January 2013 the number 44 had always been important to me so 3/1/13 had a kind of fatalistic feel to it 3+1 = 4 / 1+3 = 4.

In November of 2012 me and Ed set off on our morning walk, I wasn't the best company, I was still nursing a broken heart and feeling very sorry for myself. In May of that year I had split up with a girl called Kerry the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. The fact that I got to be with her and how absolutely amazing that brief period in my life was, still mystifies me to this day. If I am thinking about her as I die. I will die with a smile on my face. I always think I defied the gods in getting with her, i was never meant to experience anything like that in my life.

Eddie who now resides in my heart has just pointed out that this story is about him, (he was never too keen on Kerry) so back to that November. Eddie always loved his walks, every morning I had to chase him around the kitchen before getting his lead on but for a couple of weeks he hadn't seemed his usual self, he had slowed down a bit, didn't seem to have the same level of enthusiasm.

So we had gone about a mile and Ed was getting slower and slower as were just crossing Donaldson Drive (D is the 4th letter of the alphabet, just as I have always liked 44 I have a thing about DD's too ) Eddie just came to a halt in the middle of the road. After a couple of tugs on the lead it was clear Eddie was not gonna move so I picked him up carried him across the road and started heading back home. Now Eddie was a dog who liked his food as much as he liked walks and as a result he was pretty big for a beagle, some might say fat to me he was always big boned, it made him kinda unique.

Now I am not the strongest, where Eddie was big boned I have always considered myself to have the bones of a sparrow, i am very oddly put together, my bones are incredibly thin, I could never wear a wedding ring because my knuckle was so much bigger than my puny finger that if i got a ring big enough to go over the knuckle it was loose on my wedding digit. For the same reason I could never wear a watch, well not a man's watch, as i have ladies wrists. I think my Mum probably got kidnapped and impregnated by aliens around October, November time 1964 and I am the result of that intergalactic union. I am going off topic a bit here but the point is Eddie was quite a big lump to try to carry and halfway from home I was knackered. In 2011 after a run of bad luck I had moved back home to Peterborough with my parents (probably the biggest mistake of my life) so at this point I put Ed on the ground and rang my Dad to see if he could come and pick us up, which he did.

When I got home I rang the vets, at the time I was still registered with a vet in Whittlesey it is where I had spent my married life, I loved living in Whittlesey and had not got around to changing vets, so I put Ed in the car and we went off to see if they could fix him. Eddie always trusted me at the vets, he was never any trouble despite having quite a few ailments in his relatively short life. Whenever he had to go for his booster jabs I would pick him up put him on the table and he would bury his head in my coat until he had been injected the first time he did this me and the vet got the giggles. As she turned to get the vaccine out of the cupboard Eddie turned and, as I say buried his head in my coat. So when she turned, needle in hand she was presented with his back end "Does he know what is going to happen?" she smiled. "Probably" I replied but as always he was as good as gold. Once the jab was done he emerged from under my coat, wagging his tail and loving life.

So me and Ed got to the vets and I carried him in to the treatment room in order for them to take a look at him. When the vet took hold of Eddie's head and moved it from side to side. Ed let out a howl that the vet interpreted as aggression and he muzzled him before continuing the examination. Eddie's howl hadn't been aggressive he did not have an aggressive bone in his body, big bones yes but not aggressive. He had howled in pain, there was something wrong with the bones in his neck and it was causing him intense nerve pain. That was the beginning of the end for Ed and as time has gone on, I realise, it was the beginning of the end for me too.

In December of 2012 I took Ed off to a specialist animal hospital just outside Newmarket. A place called Six Mile Bottom can you believe? I was worried sick but I was accompanied on the journey by my friend Elaine, which helped keep me calm as like most men I can be the best version of myself, courageous and brave, when in the company of an attractive woman. Once we arrived at Six Mile Bottom Elaine waited in the car while me and my best friend went in to see the specialists. Through the consultation Eddie lay on the floor with his head resting on my foot, i think keeping his head elevated a little, eased the pain. The vet was a very pleasant Spanish chap who had been sent X-rays of the bones in Eddies neck and explained that he needed an operation that would cost £4000 but had a 100% success rate and he told me he had performed 85 similar operations. It broke my heart leaving Eddie behind but at least I had hope now the vets were going to fix him. So me and Elaine drove home she encouraged me that I should be positive and I was, he was going to be fine. I was gonna get my boy back.

A few days later after I received a call from the vets saying the operation had been a success i headed back up the A14 to collect my best mate, my boy, my pride and joy. The poor lad looked very pleased to see me but it was clear he had endured a major operation and he had a huge scar on his neck. They had to perform the surgery going through the front of his neck, I had though they would be going in through the back so it was a bit of a shock he looked like he had, had his throat cut. Still other than looking the worse for wear Ed was really happy to see me. On this occasion it was my Mum who had come on the journey so she could sit in the back with Ed, all the way home she kept worrying, it is where i get it from I think. She kept saying he was holding his head funny, this pissed me off as i just wanted her to be positive I wanted Eddie to be ok. After a couple of days it was clear Ed wasn't ok he wasn't eating and he looked in real pain when he moved I had to carry him outside when he wanted to go to the toilet as he struggled with the step.

Mid December my Dad drove Eddie and me back to the vets. They did some x-rays and said they could not understand what had gone wrong. I was told that they needed to operate again but this time they would only charge me £2000. So once again I had to leave Ed behind, I felt awful I had been with him all his life he had never been on his own and now he was gonna have to go through all this again, once more though I was assured they could fix him.

On the 23rd of December I got the best Christmas present ever. Eddie was doing great, the vets were happy and he was coming home. Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day Eddie was on the mend he was back to his usual loving, joyous self. I was so happy so relieved I vowed I was gonna make it up to him for being a miserable self-pitying bastard for the previous six months. The 27th of December Eddie went downhill rapidly, my heart broke, I knew what was coming.

The 30th of December I was going to take Ed to the local vets to have him put to sleep, during his illness I had transferred Ed to Peterborough as the travelling was easier. I was in bits but knew it had to be done, it was clear he was in so much pain. However I got a call from Six Mile Bottom they asked if I would take Eddie back there as they had no idea why the operation had not worked and they wanted to see if there was anything else they could do. So that is what we did, again I got my Dad to take me, i had to have him involved. My Dad is one of those people who though he has many qualities, he is always wise after the event. I had a good idea Eddie was not going to make it. I also knew that once that came to pass if my old man started going on at me about how I should have done this differently and that differently our relationship would be over I would more than likely find myself homeless and most probably on an assault charge.

Once we got to the vets we were met by the highest ranking vet, he had a look at Eddie and told me he had no idea what had gone wrong. Eddie just looked defeated. Now I know vets are good people I also realise to be really good at what you do you probably need a degree of arrogance. As I say I was under the impression that after they had seen Eddie I was going to have to say goodbye but that isn't what happened. The vet, unintentionally crucified me, he shook his head looked at Eddie and said. "Let us do the operation again... free of charge I am sure we can sort this" For me that was professional arrogance speaking the 100% success rate was under threat, I don't think for one minute it was done nastily but he wasn't really thinking about Ed or me. I knew my best friend, the most important living thing in my world had, had enough but what could I say..."No put him to sleep" an expert in his field was once again telling me he could save my dog, so I agreed to another op. As they led Eddie away he turned back to look at me I had never seen him look so sad, I will never forgive myself for putting him through that. He was on his own in hospital over the new year, no doubt with all fireworks going off awaiting yet another op which was carried out on New Year's day. They genuinely tried to save him but they shouldn't have. They should have accepted that for whatever reason on this occasion, with this dog, they'd failed.

So on the 3rd of January after a call from the vets saying there was nothing more they could do me and my Dad went back to Newmarket. I was taken through to an examination room and Dad waited in reception. Apparently while I was waiting they led Eddie through reception and he ran and jumped up and made a fuss of my Dad, causing my Dad to rush back to the car.

My last moments with Ed were spent in a grey dingy examination room in a place called Six Mile Bottom! It was a lovely sunny morning and I always regret not asking for the procedure to take place outside so Eddie could have died with the sun shining down on him, it would have been fitting, due to the fact he brought so much love and sunshine into my life but I didn't I was concentrating so hard on being strong. They gave me five minutes with him where I played with him, lay on the floor with him and told him just how much he had meant to me and I apologised for neglecting him when Kerry had come along. I loved my boy so much he was my best mate my counsellor, he had got me through so many tough times and as I look back a decade on, my life was fucking brilliant while he was in it. He was the catalyst my guardian angel.

I have never divulged this to anyone but when they left me alone with him, I had a Stanley knife in my pocket I was seriously considering slashing my wrists and dying with him. I did not want to leave him on his own and I guess selfishly I did not want to be left alone. Obviously though as I am writing this I did not go through with it, occasionally i wish I had. After 5 minutes the vet and a nurse came back in with a big needle. I held Ed told him I loved him said goodbye and he died in my arms. I took my parka off and said I wanted him to be wrapped in it when they cremated him I said goodbye accepted their sympathies and went back to the car, still managing to hold myself together.

When I got back to the car, I got quite a shock. My Dad was not holding it together he was sobbing, I had never seen him like that. The tears were streaming down his face his nose was running he was in pieces. I asked him if he wanted me to drive home. He declined and began to compose himself. Eddie running up to him in the waiting room had broken him, in his head he had imagined Eddie saying "please get me out of here." We chatted for a few minutes and I once again surprised myself by being strong and saying all the cliched stuff people say when someone you love dies. On the way home I rang my sister and asked her if she would go and collect up all Eddie's stuff I really couldn't face seeing it when I got home. On the drive back Dad started saying 'we' should have done things differently, that the vets were bastards for putting Eddie through what they did. I stayed resolute.

I didn't go straight home I got Dad to drop me in town where I met up with Elaine I spent an hour with her and then caught up with a lad called Ian who i was mates with at the time. I was putting off going home but amazingly I was staying strong and calm. I rang the vet and asked him to ring my Dad, to tell him there was nothing else that could have been done to save Ed. I knew that once I did go home I would not be able to cope with any ranting. I also wanted to give my sister and my mum chance to hide all Eddie's stuff.

When I did eventually go home I walked in the back door and was hit by a tidal wave of emotion it was instantaneous, I have no idea where it came from but with no self control at all I let out this guttural howl (the noise was unlike anything I had ever heard it didn't feel that it could come from a human) and I collapsed. I felt like my body was self destructing, tearing itself apart. I do not expect to ever feel like that again in my life. My Mum panicked and shouted my Dad, who helped me up and got me to my bedroom, where I took four co-codamol knowing they would knock me out. I didn't want to feel anything. While I slept I had a very simple dream. i was looking at a heart, I knew it was my heart. Eddie appeared and went walking over to it and tapped on it with his paw a door opened he walked inside and the door closed behind him.

GOD ?

 Let me start by saying I follow no religion all religious texts are passed down by man so it stands to reason, to me anyway, they are corrupted. The greatest failings of the human race, and there are many, are arrogance, achieving power by any means necessary and playing God. I am however intrigued by the miracle of life, the power and the glory is in the unexplainable, the mystery the wonder of creation.

I have long held a belief that we are all linked, all life, all living things, we are all part of one amazing creation, our lives lived like individual raindrops but what happens when those raindrops fall into the sea? Take an egg, what is the force inside that egg that creates a chick how does that happen, how is it even possible? that inside an egg a chick can form, with blood bones and a beating heart with eyes wings and feathers it is just miraculous.

What force is inside an acorn that can energise that incredible growth which allows it to become a mighty oak tree, where does that amazing power come from this mysterious creative force must be in every living thing including us.

We were all formed from a tiny egg in our mother's womb it is unfathomable really, when you think of how complex we are. What does a mother have to do to create a baby? what skills are involved? how much effort does it take to get the baby just right? very little we just trust in nature. Look around at what nature created and then look at our impact how have we improved the planet, our home! The home of all life. All life which within it contains this creative life force which could perhaps be described as God.

Like I say I am not religious, i would argue all organised religions are a corruption of God, God as in the force of creation. Every living thing comes from a tiny seed or egg and with no conscious thinking, no education, no training each of those seeds and eggs change and grow into beautiful, miraculous, dazzling creations.

When you actually think about yourself as a creation, it is genuinely awe inspiring, bewildering, whatever your body looks like the things it can do are simply breathtaking. Breathing for one, our heart pumping blood around our body, sight, hearing the sense of touch, movement, digestion the list just goes on an on. The vast majority of us as individuals have very little concept of how these functions work they certainly require very little concentration from us. When we do learn new tasks, learning a language, learning to walk, ride a bkie, drive a car, those kinds of task initially require great concentration but once we have got it, it becomes ingrained, we have to think about it less and less... imagine trying to forget how to drive a car, it would be virtually impossible. Back to the miracles we did not have to learn...Imagine trying to forget how to see!? Each of us is a miracle yet instead of feeling gratitude many of us and I am terribly guilty of this myself, go through life comparing ourselves to others which is again a major failing of human beings. We have little control over the bodies we inhabit. The colour of our hair, eyes, skin, blood, our height, our features our looks all of us are the result of a creative force that is within us all, that links us all and without that force we would not be here we are all miracles... is that force God?

Like i previously said, it isn't just us each animal is able to breath, to see to hear, has the gift of movement the sense of touch, has a heart pumping blood around their bodies, a digestive system the lists goes on and on like us they have the ability to learn new tasks and once those tasks have been learned they do not forget. You can toilet train a puppy, in many cases, much quicker than you can potty train a baby. The creative force in us must also be in every animal and I am confident that when it comes to emotions animals share those with us too... but that is a topic for another day