WELCOME to Haunted Wirral, a feature series written by world famous psychic researcher, Tom Slemen for the Globe.

In this latest tale, Tom explores the tale of the owner who was saved by his dog Foo...

Tony, a 45-year-old research chemist, saw the dog advertised on a card pinned to the green felt notice board in the post office on Argyle Street that Christmas Eve in 1994.

The orange card read: 'Foo – sadly abandoned by his previous owner. He is a 4 year old male, neutered, probably a boxer/pointer cross. He is very affectionate, faithful and intelligent and needs constant company and lots of exercise. Could YOU give Foo a loving home? Phone 051...’

Tony’s 8-year-old daughter Jenny saw her father reading the card on the notice board of the Birkenhead Post Office, and she immediately pestered him to go and get Foo. "I don’t know, love," Tony grimaced as Jenny tugged at his sleeve, "your mum would have to okay it – you know?"

"Oh dad please", Jenny groaned, "I’ve always wanted a dog and Foo sounds like a lovely one, and he’s only four – what’s that in human years?"

Tony asked his wife Maddie if they could at least go and look at the dog and she reluctantly nodded and said to Jenny, "Someone might have taken him already so don’t get all your hopes built up."

Tony telephoned the shelter where Foo was kept and smiled, "Oh, so no one’s claimed him yet?"

"Yes!" Jenny punched the air, and her father gave his details and answered a battery of questions and fifteen minutes later, he and Jenny were in the car on their way to the shelter.

When the car returned, Jenny led Foo into the house on his leash giggling hysterically. The dog pulled Jenny into the living room and sat in Tony’s favourite armchair – and watched TV.

"Talk about make yourself at home!" Tony quipped and his wife and daughter laughed. Weeks later, Tony was promoted, and his increased salary enabled him to move to a dream house up in West Kirby that he and Maddie had eyed for so long.

Life was great, and almost every day Tony and Jenny would take Foo to the beach and throw frisbees for the dog to catch and sometimes Jenny would let Foo eat her ice cream cornet.

Certain people will tell you that they become so close to their pets, there is almost a telepathic system at work. Cats will go and wait at a certain bus stop when they are expecting their owner to come home at a specific time, and dogs will sometimes even look at a telephone and know their owner is about to ring.

Foo loved Tony, and on one occasion when Tony was upset because his favourite auntie had died, the dog had refused to eat all day and kept trying to jump on his knee, which actually made him laugh in the end and lifted his sombre mood.

Maddie could see how much Tony loved Foo, and she would joke and say, "I think you actually love that dog more than me – it’s cringey!"

Tony was building the dog a new kennel in the back garden the day the tragedy struck.

Foo was playing with Jenny in the front garden when she threw the Frisbee – but it went over the fence and Foo cleared that fence and ran after the gliding yellow disc – and a van hit him.

There was a loud yelp – then silence. Jenny ran into the house in shock and told her mother what had happened, before bursting into tears, and then Tony looked through the living room window as he worked on the kennel, and he saw Jenny with her face in her hands – and he ran into the house.

"Tony, Foo’s been hit by a van," she told him in an uneven voice, and Tony’s face became pale, and he wandered outside and saw the crowd of people around the side of a transit van.

He went over and pushed his way through them and there was Foo lying on his side – motionless. His eyes were closed. "Foo! Come on boy! Foo!" Tony knelt besides his canine buddy and gently patted his head, but there was no response.

"He’s a goner," said an old man, and then the van driver – a quiet young man in his twenties – said, "It just ran in front of me, and I braked but –" And his voice trailed off.

"Come on Foo, wake up," said Tony, and the children looked at the tears cascading from his eyes. "Wake up Foo, come on lad!"

Tony eventually accepted that his beloved pet was dead and he picked it up and carried it into the house, and he went into the garden and laid the body near the kennel.

In shock, he said, "Made you a bigger kennel, and painted your name on it, Foo."

In the evening he buried the dog in the back garden and for days he could not eat. The months went by, and in late November, a ticklish, persistent cough was keeping Tony awake at night and his wife persuaded him to see his doctor.

By early December the doctor was sending Tony for a blood test. Weeks later after further tests, Tony, once a heavy smoker, was diagnosed with stage 1 lung cancer.

His father had died of the same disease and Tony told his wife he wanted to ‘end it all rather than go through all of that.’

On Christmas Eve, Tony walked out to sea one evening - into the freezing waters. He heard a dog barking and found himself being dragged backwards by the snarling animal. It was Foo.

The dog pushed him back and Tony changed his mind. He wanted to live. He was treated for hypothermia.

He underwent chemo – and beat the cancer.

They said he imagined the return of Foo – but no, Tony believed his dog had come back to save him.

Haunted Liverpool 32 is out now on Amazon.