Spooky, possums …
The world abounds with stories of the supernatural, but I guess not to the same extent in the context with animals. Typically, there was a story in Bernard O’Reilly’s books – Cullenbenbong and Green Mountains (ghost story aside, both are fascinating, very exciting, true story reads). Even though both books deal with rural life – Cullenbenbong on the western side of the Blue Mountains in NSW, and Green Mountains in the hinterland of QLD’s Gold Coast – they can be described as pioneer experiences. Experiencing life in virgin settlements and living alongside aboriginals in both places the O’Reillys learnt a lot about the spirituality and mysteries of different tribes. On the Gold Coast mountain plateau (1,300 m) the O’Reillys had to kill numerous poisonous snakes (Black Mamba, I seem to remember) in order to build a cabin. The best access in their first months was via a steep and dangerous track. They had heard that there had been a murder on this track and it was haunted, then discovered it was true. Their horse, pulling a cart or sulky would baulk at a certain point and refuse to continue. Only by careful coaxing with the driver walking and holding the bridle would the horse go past the haunted spot.
Closer to home, a neighbour here on the east coast told us of an episode at his place many years back where he heard running foot falls and voices, and could put the incident down to a certain aborigine being chased by the “Traps” (police) in Tassie’s early days.
Around four years ago we had to put our 18 year old cat, Minnie, to sleep at the vets. The Vet had asked did we want to collect the body. Consistent with our disregard for cemeteries and monuments etc. and that old Min was in our hearts where it counted, we declined. Some weeks to months later, I was sitting in our lounge room, just near an archway entrance from the hall, and reading something. I noticed our 17 year old dog Mishka arrive from the hall and stop in mid stride just near me, but staring straight ahead.
Then, still staring fixedly ahead she took a couple of measured steps and went into Point (like a gun dog, muzzle level and stretched forward, tail raised and level) – and commenced a low growl rumbling up from the throat. I said, “What’s the matter old girl”? – realising she was staring at a vision of old Min, because where she was focusing was where my wife used to have a small rug for old Min’s favourite place right at the end of the settee. As I slowly stood up Mishka barked, and I said “It’s all right old girl, it’s only old Min come to visit”. Instantly, the dog relaxed as the vision must have disappeared. Strange, first feeling when I realised what was happening was a numbing moment of the blood freezing as they say, but shortly after, one of pleasant surprise.
Made me think further on the reverence that people all over the world have for their childhood home. The bond with where they spent their childhood and where they grew up. What made the spirit of the old cat visit? Did I do the wrong thing in not collecting the body and taking it home? I’ve heard bible studying religionists say that such visitations are of the Devil and are brought on by people who delve in mysticism, tarot readings etc. (which I suspect in part, is true). But we don’t do any of that and I was preoccupied with some reading matter at the time. The dog, not me, was shown the vision. A few years later, we made sure Princess the other (14 years old) cat and 17 years old Mishka were planted out the back. All our pets, as in heaps of homes, are extended family. Pets get to know their owners as only the owners know them and the bond is strong, is it not?
Don Pike, Four Mile Creek.
