A Life
Full of Animals - part one
I have never known a time in my life without animals, apart
from the three years I was at college.
My earliest memory is of Bob the Collie, for whom my father
laid a place at the table. There followed Sombre the Smooth-coated Collie,
Ginger the cat, Punch the Springer and Judy the kitten.
The first dog Barry and I had was a yellow Labrador called
Whisky. She was three years old and she was my birthday present from Barry when
I was in my final year. I couldn’t keep her at college so Barry kept her in the
officers’ mess at RMCS Shrivenham, where she led a very convivial life. She was a
patient and very friendly dog, and eventually a great companion to and
protector of our young children.
We thought her not to be a natural guard dog,
barking only at buses and ladders, until one night in Northern Ireland when Barry
came home very late, she barked menacingly at him before she realised who he
was and was then abjectly apologetic. She was not averse to helping herself to
choice morsels from other people’s shopping baskets, when the opportunity
presented itself, and enjoyed ‘picking’ blackberries, too.
As she aged and our children grew, we decided to get another
dog, to ease the pain of Whisky’s passing, when the time came. Thus we acquired
Biddy, a 7-month-old smooth-coated Jack Russell terrier, (JR) the long-legged
variety now known as Parson Jack Russell. She had already been cubbing and
never lost her penchant for searching underground, once disappearing for
several hours and emerging mostly brown, rather than her usual tan and white.
She was enormous fun, always seeking to ingratiate herself by sliding round on
one shoulder in front of one of us and submitting. She was very much Barry’s
dog, loving to huddle inside his jacket. When he wasn’t around, Biddy’s preferred
companion was Gareth, particularly in the forest. She was expert at climbing
trees.
Biddy and Gareth
After Whisky died, Biddy was lonely, missing her old companion
and so we got Leo, a rough-coated, short-legged Jack Russell. He had been a
stud dog and in our innocence we thought we would have no problem keeping him
and Biddy apart when she came into season. How wrong we were! Biddy had five
adorable puppies, and we kept Daisy and Sam. Daisy was a very pretty broken-coated
girl and liked sleeping in the cat beds we suspended from the radiators, for by
now, we had a cat, a beautiful brown Burmese.
Leo
Susannah, Gillian and Gareth with Biddy and her five puppies
Daisy
Daisy, Sam and Biddy at the seaside
This came about because Susannah had wanted a rabbit. We had experienced
heart-ache with Gillian’s previous rabbits and so persuaded Susannah that a cat
would be preferable. We called her Alicat and we were encouraged to breed from
her. JRs are reputed to be cat killers but when we brought Alicat home, Daisy
jumped on my lap, watched by the other three, and we never had a problem. Of
course, each of our then three children had a different favourite kitten and soon our
menagerie grew, until by the time Bethan, our fourth child, arrived, we had
four JRs and nine Burmese. We also had guinea pigs and pet mice and gerbils,
all of which reproduced at will.
Sam with Susannah and Bethan
Bethan with Barry, Sam and Daisy
Sam was also broken-coated and immensely strong for his size.
He loved collecting logs, the bigger the better. He really was a big dog in a
little dog’s body. He and Leo did not get on once he grew up, so Leo went to live
with my parents. Sam’s life was short and sweet. Out running with Barry one
day, he ran off and was knocked down by a car. He died unexpectedly after surviving
a few days with the vet. He was six years old. Biddy had spent much time
licking his ears and little Daisy was somewhat overlooked. Clearly, Sam was his
mother’s favourite and she pined for him. We commenced our search for our next dog.
I had long wanted a Dalmatian and soon Cariadd joined our
family from Wales. She was smaller than the JRs when she first arrived, but
soon outstripped them and proved to be a good problem-solver.
Biddy and Cariadd
Cariadd. Bethan, Biddy and Daisy
Barry holding one of Cariadd's longer 'sticks', watched by Bethan
She specialised
in carrying long branches, more like young trees, through small gaps and was
the perfect running mate for Barry. She also had a terrific smile, which
worried people who were not familiar with dog smiles. We were sometimes told,
‘Your dog’s snarling at me.’
Many breeds of dog smile, or snark, some with closed lips,
others with varying degrees of tooth display and nose wrinkling. I must admit
it can look quite alarming!
I believe that once you have two or more dogs you can never go
back to just one. Dogs need dogs and the one that’s left alone becomes
depressed. A ‘new’ dog, whether baby puppy or older dog, rejuvenates the
survivor and rekindles his or her energy and enthusiasm.
When our last JR, Daisy, died, we had to find a companion for
Cariadd, and this came in the form of Dalmatian Dominie, from Devon, four
months old and a really big puppy. She was as soft as butter, a little dog in a
big dog’s disguise. Cariadd, not noted for her maternal instinct, allowed the
youngster to chew her neck and never grumbled at her. Dominie was not well
coordinated as a puppy and fell in our pond every day for a week as she
thundered over the bridge, but she grew into an athletic dog who could turn on a
sixpence, giving any chasing dog a great work out.
Dominie with our eldest grandson, Callum (now 25 and an expectant father)
We were very taken with our Dalmatians, delighting in their
elegance and intelligence, and it was good to have not one, but two big dogs to
which we could reach down a hand to be nuzzled. As Cariadd aged, and, sadly,
dogs age too quickly, we decided to look for a third Dalmatian. Bethan had
enjoyed building obstacle courses for Cariadd and was keen to try showing a dog.
Dominie, beautiful though she was, was simply too big and Cariadd had never
been keen on the show ring.
We thought it would be fun to have a liver Dalmatian, so
green-eyed Buddy left his home in Cornwall to live with us. His eyes didn’t
remain green. He was a handsome boy, devoted to Bethan. When we brought him
home, Dominie’s expression was one of pure joy. We could almost hear her
saying, ‘My puppy, oh, my puppy.’
Dominie with baby Buddy
Labradors are renowned for being greedy, but Dalmatians can
match, if not outpace them. Ours all learnt very quickly that food was freely
available on work tops and we had to find places they could not reach. Naturally,
they didn’t attempt to thieve while we watched. We were careful about not
allowing them ‘dangerous’ foods, like grapes or macadamia nuts, but even so Buddy
demolished a chocolate cake and lived to tell the tale. Our grandchildren still
laugh about that.
Buddy does the leg work while Dominie waits
In the meantime, the cats were ruling the roost, and
attempting to find a way into the fish tank for a tasty fresh snack. When they
had a spat, as cats do, they would find a dog to curl up with. The cats never
attacked the dogs, just each other. Sometimes, a dog would stand between two
arguing cats, to calm them down.
Cariadd and 6 Burmese
After Buddy came seven-month–old Frodo, from Lincolnshire, a
dog bred primarily for looks rather than temperament. He was always gentle and
loving with everyone in our household, particularly Buddy, but reactive with unfamiliar
dogs, not a good trait in a show dog. He became my Velcro dog and remained so
until his death seven years ago.
Frodo the Faller