Post by Paul on Dec 24, 2004 8:38:00 GMT 9.5
THE DOGS OF MY LIFE
Shep.
During World War II, close to nine years of age I was evacuated from a severely blitzed London and went to live on a farm in Cornwall. It was there that I met the first dog in my life, Shep.
Shep was a working dog who's life consisted of work, eat, sleep and being confined to the barn when his services were not required. He had probably never had a kind word spoken to him in his life and he most certainly didn't know what love and cuddles were until I came along.
I had to cycle 2 miles to the village school and un-beknown to me, Shep used to follow me behind the hedges at the side of the road and then sit by my parked bicycle all day. He would then disappear just before I came out of school and follow me all the home - again unseen. They took poor Shep into the orchard and shot him. My mother was absolutely livid as she knew nothing until after the event. Mother would have gladly paid for his food and have let me keep him as a pet.
Shep of course would no longer work because he had become totally devoted to me. I was inconsolable for months and even after all the years that have passed I think of him from time to time with dewy eyes.
Paddy
Strictly a Heinz 57 variety, bright as a button who suddenly developed some form of mange. He consistently scratched and became almost bald, his skin suppurating into a colourless slime.
We had no spare money so we took Paddy to The Peoples Dispensary For Sick Animals. Diagnoses? "He will have to be put down now!" No way, I picked up Paddy and ran for his life.
My mother then said to them, "For God's sake give us something to say we've tried, Julie is driving us to drink". I had to bathe Paddy everyday in sulfa water and put cream on top of the slime, no-one else in the family would do it.
The treatment took almost 6 months and dear old Paddy survived, when we could finally afford a vet he wouldn't believe how bad Paddy had been. The sulfa water and cream may have helped but I wonder just how much impact Tender Loving Care had.
Unknown Dog
I was about nine or ten years old and back in Kent for a holiday, the war was still raging on.
It was well known among the residents of the road where we were staying that a man kept a Border collie in his yard, there was no shelter, no bedding and the dog's food was just thrown on the ground. When the dog was taken out, there was no collar, just a rope tied around his neck.
I was sweeping the front steps for my mother when this man went by with the dog on the rope. For some reason the dog sat down and refused to budge and he was then repeatedly beaten with the end of the rope. This was like a red rag to a bull as far as I was concerned.
I was off over the road, broom raised aloft and laid into that bloke like a screaming banshee. "How do you like it" I yelled laying into him with the broom, "Dogs hurt - dogs have feelings too", the tears were streaming down my face. The ruckus collected quite a crowd and it finally took three adults to drag me off the man, but if one of them relaxed their grip I attempted to repeat the attack. All the time the poor dog sat quietly through my tirade.
Then one of the neighbours who had gathered in the crowd gave the cruel man a tongue lashing he so richly deserved, then said I had done what she had always wanted to do but lacked the courage. Then she again turned to the man and said, "If you can't look after the dog, I will". She told him in no uncertain terms that if he ever had another animal again and mistreated it, she would report him to the authorities.
A very subdued man apologised to me and the assembled crowd, I quietly handed the dog to the neighbour who followed her like a lamb.
Fanny, Clarissa and Prunella.
Fanny was a honey coloured Pug with a black face. She was affectionate, gentle and very quiet and we inherited her from my sister.
Not long after, I made the acquaintance of a Pug Breeder just outside Cambridge, he was Gay! and quite outrageous. I remember once when I worked in the lighting department of a Department Store. On the Saturday in question the area was packed with customers. During a lull in the many conversations Cecil breezed through with two pugs in tow. He gaily (no pun intended) waved his hand at me and shouted in a very loud voice, "Can't stop darling, I'm up to my elbows in vaginal swabs" If the store was quiet before you could have then heard a pin drop. The faces of the customers were real pictures and the more I attempted to explain the worst things got. Cecil phoned me later to say he'd done it on purpose to shake up all the 'smug old farts! he is now a very staid judge at Crufts.
Cecil asked me if I would look after one of his bitches on a permanent basis. The deal was, I had her for a pet, he bred from her once a year, he paid all the vets bills and I would keep or sell one of the puppies. Clarissa was a character, all black in colour, she was always up on her hind legs dancing a little jig.
One day I was doing the laundry with the basket lying in the middle of the garden path and Fanny walked slap-bang into it. We acquired a new coffee table and she walked into that several times. I took both of them to the vet only to discover Fanny was totally blind and Clarissa was blind in her left eye. As long as we kept the furniture in the same spot they coped and often had a high old time chasing each other up and down the stairs
While we still had the two pugs, someone at worked asked if anyone could give a home to an eighteen month old Labrador called Prunella. "Of course I could", my Mother used to go spare.
Clarissa used to tease the life out of Pru until one day Pru had enough, She picked Clarissa up by the head and shook the living daylights out of her dislodging Clarissa's good eye. The vet managed to get it back in and when eventually her eye lid was unstitched, Clarissa boasted one black eye and one coloured one. It was not long after that Pru did the same again, this time poor Clarissa lost her eye.
Clarissa developed cancer at the age of sixteen and died on the operating table. Fanny also died at 16, quietly passing away in her sleep on my Mothers lap. Mum refused to believe that Fanny had past-away, the dog had been on her knee for six hours and she insisted that she was only sleeping. After gently prising Fanny away, we still had to put a hot water bottle in her basket and cover her over in case she woke up.
Pru flourished. She was a great thief of food, one day a whole pound of lard, complete with wrapping disappeared down her throat at high speed. She was, excuse the phrase, as sick as a dog and kept looking at me as if to say, "Do something".
She hated being left on her own and once when Mum and Dad were in Cornwall, Rick and I returned home from work, all we could see through the porch door window was a sea of white. We looked at each other, neither of us wanting to open the door. To my horror, Pru had ripped apart 3 feather stuffed pillows and was sitting in the middle of it all awash in down and feathers and looking very smug and self satisfied.
At one point in her life, Pru had a painful ear operation and had to wear a bucket over her head for there were no specially designed collars in those days. The bucket was coloured orange and she used to sit on a chair looking out of the front window. One lady knocked on the door very upset, did we know our beautiful dog had got her head stuck in a plastic bucket. On yet another occasion while mother was out shopping, she was asked by a neighbour what type of beautiful orange plant she had in the window as she would like to get one.
When Mum was out walking with Pru one day she passed out and collapsed to the pavement. When she came to, Pru was holding all would be helpers at bay, Hair raised, teeth bared, all accompanied by a great deal of growling.
continued.....
Shep.
During World War II, close to nine years of age I was evacuated from a severely blitzed London and went to live on a farm in Cornwall. It was there that I met the first dog in my life, Shep.
Shep was a working dog who's life consisted of work, eat, sleep and being confined to the barn when his services were not required. He had probably never had a kind word spoken to him in his life and he most certainly didn't know what love and cuddles were until I came along.
I had to cycle 2 miles to the village school and un-beknown to me, Shep used to follow me behind the hedges at the side of the road and then sit by my parked bicycle all day. He would then disappear just before I came out of school and follow me all the home - again unseen. They took poor Shep into the orchard and shot him. My mother was absolutely livid as she knew nothing until after the event. Mother would have gladly paid for his food and have let me keep him as a pet.
Shep of course would no longer work because he had become totally devoted to me. I was inconsolable for months and even after all the years that have passed I think of him from time to time with dewy eyes.
Paddy
Strictly a Heinz 57 variety, bright as a button who suddenly developed some form of mange. He consistently scratched and became almost bald, his skin suppurating into a colourless slime.
We had no spare money so we took Paddy to The Peoples Dispensary For Sick Animals. Diagnoses? "He will have to be put down now!" No way, I picked up Paddy and ran for his life.
My mother then said to them, "For God's sake give us something to say we've tried, Julie is driving us to drink". I had to bathe Paddy everyday in sulfa water and put cream on top of the slime, no-one else in the family would do it.
The treatment took almost 6 months and dear old Paddy survived, when we could finally afford a vet he wouldn't believe how bad Paddy had been. The sulfa water and cream may have helped but I wonder just how much impact Tender Loving Care had.
Unknown Dog
I was about nine or ten years old and back in Kent for a holiday, the war was still raging on.
It was well known among the residents of the road where we were staying that a man kept a Border collie in his yard, there was no shelter, no bedding and the dog's food was just thrown on the ground. When the dog was taken out, there was no collar, just a rope tied around his neck.
I was sweeping the front steps for my mother when this man went by with the dog on the rope. For some reason the dog sat down and refused to budge and he was then repeatedly beaten with the end of the rope. This was like a red rag to a bull as far as I was concerned.
I was off over the road, broom raised aloft and laid into that bloke like a screaming banshee. "How do you like it" I yelled laying into him with the broom, "Dogs hurt - dogs have feelings too", the tears were streaming down my face. The ruckus collected quite a crowd and it finally took three adults to drag me off the man, but if one of them relaxed their grip I attempted to repeat the attack. All the time the poor dog sat quietly through my tirade.
Then one of the neighbours who had gathered in the crowd gave the cruel man a tongue lashing he so richly deserved, then said I had done what she had always wanted to do but lacked the courage. Then she again turned to the man and said, "If you can't look after the dog, I will". She told him in no uncertain terms that if he ever had another animal again and mistreated it, she would report him to the authorities.
A very subdued man apologised to me and the assembled crowd, I quietly handed the dog to the neighbour who followed her like a lamb.
Fanny, Clarissa and Prunella.
Fanny was a honey coloured Pug with a black face. She was affectionate, gentle and very quiet and we inherited her from my sister.
Not long after, I made the acquaintance of a Pug Breeder just outside Cambridge, he was Gay! and quite outrageous. I remember once when I worked in the lighting department of a Department Store. On the Saturday in question the area was packed with customers. During a lull in the many conversations Cecil breezed through with two pugs in tow. He gaily (no pun intended) waved his hand at me and shouted in a very loud voice, "Can't stop darling, I'm up to my elbows in vaginal swabs" If the store was quiet before you could have then heard a pin drop. The faces of the customers were real pictures and the more I attempted to explain the worst things got. Cecil phoned me later to say he'd done it on purpose to shake up all the 'smug old farts! he is now a very staid judge at Crufts.
Cecil asked me if I would look after one of his bitches on a permanent basis. The deal was, I had her for a pet, he bred from her once a year, he paid all the vets bills and I would keep or sell one of the puppies. Clarissa was a character, all black in colour, she was always up on her hind legs dancing a little jig.
One day I was doing the laundry with the basket lying in the middle of the garden path and Fanny walked slap-bang into it. We acquired a new coffee table and she walked into that several times. I took both of them to the vet only to discover Fanny was totally blind and Clarissa was blind in her left eye. As long as we kept the furniture in the same spot they coped and often had a high old time chasing each other up and down the stairs
While we still had the two pugs, someone at worked asked if anyone could give a home to an eighteen month old Labrador called Prunella. "Of course I could", my Mother used to go spare.
Clarissa used to tease the life out of Pru until one day Pru had enough, She picked Clarissa up by the head and shook the living daylights out of her dislodging Clarissa's good eye. The vet managed to get it back in and when eventually her eye lid was unstitched, Clarissa boasted one black eye and one coloured one. It was not long after that Pru did the same again, this time poor Clarissa lost her eye.
Clarissa developed cancer at the age of sixteen and died on the operating table. Fanny also died at 16, quietly passing away in her sleep on my Mothers lap. Mum refused to believe that Fanny had past-away, the dog had been on her knee for six hours and she insisted that she was only sleeping. After gently prising Fanny away, we still had to put a hot water bottle in her basket and cover her over in case she woke up.
Pru flourished. She was a great thief of food, one day a whole pound of lard, complete with wrapping disappeared down her throat at high speed. She was, excuse the phrase, as sick as a dog and kept looking at me as if to say, "Do something".
She hated being left on her own and once when Mum and Dad were in Cornwall, Rick and I returned home from work, all we could see through the porch door window was a sea of white. We looked at each other, neither of us wanting to open the door. To my horror, Pru had ripped apart 3 feather stuffed pillows and was sitting in the middle of it all awash in down and feathers and looking very smug and self satisfied.
At one point in her life, Pru had a painful ear operation and had to wear a bucket over her head for there were no specially designed collars in those days. The bucket was coloured orange and she used to sit on a chair looking out of the front window. One lady knocked on the door very upset, did we know our beautiful dog had got her head stuck in a plastic bucket. On yet another occasion while mother was out shopping, she was asked by a neighbour what type of beautiful orange plant she had in the window as she would like to get one.
When Mum was out walking with Pru one day she passed out and collapsed to the pavement. When she came to, Pru was holding all would be helpers at bay, Hair raised, teeth bared, all accompanied by a great deal of growling.
continued.....
