It was more in a spirit of desperation that I decided to contact an animal psychic after my friends’ terrier Lark disappeared. Lark vanished one evening from their house. She was chipped, and her collar had their number on it, but as the days went by no one called.
Lark’s photo was put on Facebook and on posters near her home. Had she been stolen, or hit by a car? We searched for her body but found nothing. Was she stuck down a rabbit hole? Five days after her disappearance, my friends went on a prearranged holiday and left me in charge of the mystery.
Becky mentioned birds of prey, and people living off the land. It seemed a litany of clichés
I put dog food outside Lark’s home. What if she returned and, like Peter Pan, couldn’t get in? A high-spirited, long-legged Parson Jack Russell, Lark reminded me of my own dog Perry, who’d lived till he was 17.
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