I'VE been looking for photos...old grainy fading photos of long ago loves...
My boy Pedro - He was only a year or so old when I became a single parent and proved to be the best friend ever. He was as friendly and easy as the day was long. He loved everyone, children and animals..would allow tiny ducklings to snuggle under his soft floppy ears and was always up for a journey - absolute saint (this is how memory tricks us isn't it?)...
Our first puppy as a couple was Nellie...she was a sleepy soul and wanted to be carried way beyond her vaccination date..Always at our heels, she was loving, smelly and a complete Bimbo.
She moved house with us lots of times and didn't much like it but she always established the most comfortable and quiet place for her bed. She was an absolute gannet and especially favoured dead stuff that she could smell in the hedgerows at a thousand paces. We watched in horror as she consumed a rabbit that she had persuaded her terrier friend Toby to kill and donate to her. She was only five or six months old but down went the rabbit, skin and all like a python with an alligator. She needed carrying home that time too and was none the worse for her gluttony. When she died many years later quite suddenly of an undiagnosed cancer we were heart broken. We brought her home quietly and buried her under a willow tree where she used to sit at our feet by the shed when we had a tea break. It was a long time before we could bear to fill that sad space..
THE last time we brought a puppy home the century was young and we were a fair bit younger too. He was a scrap - a frantic wriggling scrap full of insecurities - we had no idea what we had let ourselves in for. Taken from his mother at a month old by his breeder and weaned on the dietary liquid stuff dentists give their patients while they can't eat, he was ready for the world. We were just going for a second visit never expecting the breeder to practically insist that we should take him there and then. On the way home we did some emergency puppy shopping, and so it began..little Jester was five weeks old..
Of course, we should have refused to bring him home but his mum had been shut away from the pups and he seemed healthy and lively so we felt he had little to lose. The little we actually lost was our sanity...he was a ball of adrenaline..he was afraid to sleep because Mum had disappeared when he slept and he cried all night for weeks. We were ragged out, the vets were sympathetic but had no answers until one young vet rang a homeopath friend of hers who recommended a Bach remedy mix. I can't remember now what it was - Walnut and White Chestnut I think and Chamomile tincture. For the first night in weeks we all got some kip and thanks to those lovely souls the remedy worked wonders. He never slept much though and hardly ever during the day, even after hours of exercise. We simply couldn't wear him out. An amazing swimmer, he was surfing little waves whilst still quite small and his happiness at the beach was a joy..until it was time to leave when he would run away and it would take another exasperating half hour to catch him. The railway line runs alongside our local beach for a half mile or so and Jester would run parallel to every train that passed like a frantic commuter..we were exhausted, he was ready for more. He continued in much the same vein, resisting all attempts to train him, barking like an imbecile whenever the phone rang or I used the hoover and so on. A bit later we took him to dog school where he confounded the trainer but eventually relented a little. Rewards were useless - he steadfastly refused to be rewarded and only took treats as an act of pity for our efforts. I think he sort of loved us though he didn't like cuddles and always ran ahead when off the lead..he was a nightmare really but his intelligence was remarkable as was his ability to think up schemes for giving us hell. Grooming him was a physical workout only achieved by virtually sitting on him and several times Spouse had to rugby tackle him to catch him on the beach.
It's over two years since we lost Jester. His poor old heart finally succumbed to the work it had had keeping him going at such a mad pace. It was so sad to see him bravely ignoring the pain in his arthritic old back legs and the scary symptoms of his failing heart..even so, he refused to give in until he could hardly stand. We had a week off and took him to all his favourite places..
..and a few weeks later he crawled into the bracken on Madron Carn and had to be carried home.
His ashes are buried on our allotment with a beautiful blue hebe planted on top of him...
So, now we've all rested in peace for a couple of years, it's time to lose our hearts again. Tomorrow little Meg will come to live with us. She has been raised properly, is two moons old and has been with her Mum all the time. We are ridiculously excited and can't wait to welcome her home.
I have my mac and wellies ready for the 3am weewees and have stocked up on Rescue Remedy - for myself !
<3 !!
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