More About the Author
Karen Davison grew up in a large town in Bedfordshire, but as a child, her love of animals always drew her to the countryside, horse riding on weekends, come rain or shine. When she was eight, the family got their first dog, Scamp, who's great character started Karen's lifelong love of dogs.
Fascinated by their intelligence and complex social behaviour, Karen studied canine psychology, and the more she learnt, the deeper her appreciation of dogs grew. Karen has been working as a professional dog trainer and canine behaviourist since 2001.
Now she is living the dream. Karen resides in a country cottage on the west coast of Ireland, where she lives with her husband, two daughters and nine special needs pets. Her seven dogs and two cats have a mixture of emotional, behavioural and physical disabilities. With her expertise in dog behaviour and many years veterinary nursing experience, she is in a unique position to take on those animals that might not otherwise have had a chance for life.
One of Karen's favourite sayings: 'Saving one dog will not change the world, but surely for that one dog, the world will change forever.'
Her first book, The Perfect Companion, Understanding, Training and Bonding with your Dog published in June 2012, condenses Karen's knowledge and experience into one concise and comprehensive guide to canine psychology, training and problem solving, is an invaluable edition to any dog owner's library.
Since then she has published Complete Guide to House Training Puppies and Dogs and two Fun Reads for Dog Lovers - It Shouldn't Happen to a Dog Trainer and A Dog's Guide to Humans.
She is currently working on her first work of fiction, which combines her love of writing, wolves and fantasy - Wolf Clan Rising which is due to be published 2015.
Excerpt: Wolf Clan Rising:
The setting sun filters through the forest, casting red gold rays that dance with the spirits of the living canopy. Through the dappled sunlight, a lone wolf moves on silent paws along the narrow trail, his powerful legs cover the ground at an easy trot.
Far to the north, the distant howls of stranger wolves carry to him faintly on the wind; he pauses, pricking his ears towards the sound. Licking his nose he inhales deeply to explore his surroundings.
The north east wind brings with it the scent of snow from the high peaks and the freshness of the White Water river. Close by, rain and earth, the souls of trees and undergrowth, and spirits of a myriad living things that inhabit the forest.
He smells what is, and also, what has gone before. The older scents are fainter, like the tracks of ghosts.
He registers this in a few heartbeats then lifts his muzzle and flaring his nostrils, he casts his mind out further still, seeking the one scent that has caused such restlessness; the scent that surrounds him like an invisible force, pulling him further and further away from his pack. The scent of the she-wolf.
On the wind, a minute trace of what he seeks causes his heart to race; he throws back his head and lifts his voice in a long and wavering howl.
Away to the south, back at the clan camp, his own pack add their voices, weaving through and around his, wrapping him with warmth and comfort and bringing with it an overwhelming sense of loss.
In the midst of the voices, he hears his soul brother calling to him. His chest tightens and for a moment he looks back over his shoulder, but as twilight descends the faint cry of the she-wolf beckons him north.
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