Dogs: A man's or a woman's best friend ........
There is a favourite story of mine which concerns a man who is dyslexic, an insomniac and an agnostic. The story claims that he lay awake all night wondering if there was a dog?
This is a diversion but an important one insofar that dogs have played an important part in my life and that of my family.
As a child my family had dogs.
My first dog was a mongrel called Mickey.
He was a shocker, forever running away and often rolling in other dog’s droppings and returning his coat a sticky mess and smelling to the high heavens.
Eventually my Mother could stand it no longer and I returned home to find that Mickey was no longer there.
There had been dogs before Mickey and dogs after Mickey.
There had been my grandparent’s greyhound that we looked after when they were on holiday and my best of memory from my childhood was the Dalmatian in my Grandfathers office in the Council Refuse Yard in Droylsden.
The bin men had been out on their round when they found the dog tied to the handle of a dust bin, calling the lady in question they asked for the dog to be untied in order that they could empty the bin. ‘No’, she responded, ‘take the bloody thing! I don’t want it’.
Knowing that my grandfather was a great animal lover they loaded the dog into the wagon and he, fearing to take it home knowing what my grandmothers response would be, adopted it as the ‘office dog’ as opposed to his house dog.
It was one particular reason why I enjoyed visiting him at work.
This is a diversion but an important one insofar that dogs have played an important part in my life and that of my family.
As a child my family had dogs.
My first dog was a mongrel called Mickey.
He was a shocker, forever running away and often rolling in other dog’s droppings and returning his coat a sticky mess and smelling to the high heavens.
Eventually my Mother could stand it no longer and I returned home to find that Mickey was no longer there.
There had been dogs before Mickey and dogs after Mickey.
There had been my grandparent’s greyhound that we looked after when they were on holiday and my best of memory from my childhood was the Dalmatian in my Grandfathers office in the Council Refuse Yard in Droylsden.
The bin men had been out on their round when they found the dog tied to the handle of a dust bin, calling the lady in question they asked for the dog to be untied in order that they could empty the bin. ‘No’, she responded, ‘take the bloody thing! I don’t want it’.
Knowing that my grandfather was a great animal lover they loaded the dog into the wagon and he, fearing to take it home knowing what my grandmothers response would be, adopted it as the ‘office dog’ as opposed to his house dog.
It was one particular reason why I enjoyed visiting him at work.
The greyhound that we used to look after when my grandparents were on holiday, shared a motorcycle sidecar with my sister and myself on the journey from their house to ours.
Later my parents acquired a German Shepherd, Elsa, she was a beautiful animal and despite being away at college, visiting home only occasionally, a mutual affection developed between Elsa and me.
On one occasion Janet and I were visiting my parents and, as we often did, in the evening we took Elsa for a walk.
After a time we decided to pop in to the pub for a drink.
Elsa was under the table out of sight when a man, rather the worse for wear, approached our table and began to bother Janet, her blouse was possibly a little revealing in the fashion of the times and her skirt was certainly very short, the chap reached out to touch Janet and with one hand on Elsa I stood to ward (warn?) him off.
He then lurched and reached out as if to strike me, defending myself I released Elsa’s collar and in one powerful move she rose up from under the table, and growled a deep throated and meaningful warning.
The man staggered back instantly sober and walked back to bar.
We had no more trouble from him that evening.
Our first family dog was acquired when we lived in Manchester in 1974/78.
It was a Labrador we called Thomas and it was bought as a Christmas present for our eldest daughter who had been pressing for a pet for some time.
I remember driving to a kennels which advertised puppies and after looking at various litters saw the yellow Labradors one of whom was particularly feisty.
Later my parents acquired a German Shepherd, Elsa, she was a beautiful animal and despite being away at college, visiting home only occasionally, a mutual affection developed between Elsa and me.
On one occasion Janet and I were visiting my parents and, as we often did, in the evening we took Elsa for a walk.
After a time we decided to pop in to the pub for a drink.
Elsa was under the table out of sight when a man, rather the worse for wear, approached our table and began to bother Janet, her blouse was possibly a little revealing in the fashion of the times and her skirt was certainly very short, the chap reached out to touch Janet and with one hand on Elsa I stood to ward (warn?) him off.
He then lurched and reached out as if to strike me, defending myself I released Elsa’s collar and in one powerful move she rose up from under the table, and growled a deep throated and meaningful warning.
The man staggered back instantly sober and walked back to bar.
We had no more trouble from him that evening.
Our first family dog was acquired when we lived in Manchester in 1974/78.
It was a Labrador we called Thomas and it was bought as a Christmas present for our eldest daughter who had been pressing for a pet for some time.
I remember driving to a kennels which advertised puppies and after looking at various litters saw the yellow Labradors one of whom was particularly feisty.
As I walked away from his litter he leaped the low fence fell on his side and
chased after me.
So he was the one and on Christmas Eve after the children were asleep and before the Midnight Service I drove across to collect him.
He was a characterful dog.
Despite all my best efforts I never really managed to house train him, so for the whole of the time we had him I had to be sure to be first up in the morning to clean up any ‘accidents’, not that they were accidents, he just wanted to sleep upstairs with us and when he did, he was fine.
He could clear a six foot fence and at the slightest scent of a bitch in season he would be away.
He was brought back to the house from near and far.
I collected him from the dog pound on any a number of occasions.
He was frequently spotted sitting by the pelican crossing on the A1 outside our house in Newcastle.
When the lights changed to green he would cross and then head to the Town Moor where he could and did disappear for days.
I was approached by a colleague who was an activist over the Ordination of Women, as to whether we could line her bitch with Thomas, it was an amusing image if anyone could imagine it, the two of us trying to encourage this mating, but for some reason on that occasion Thomas could not rise to the occasion and the bitch would not co-operate.
Some years later I saw my colleague in a photograph in The Church Times with a banner and her dog, the banner said, two females but only one gets to wear the collar.
On one occasion the Archdeacon saw Thomas crossing over onto the Moor and thinking he was The Bishop’s dog, the Bishop lived close by, ran round to the Bishop’s House to report.
‘No, said the Bishop, my dog is here, that would be Social Responsibility.
To my mind this raised the amusing possibility of a cartoon of the Bishop’s staff, represented by their dogs in the chairs around the circle, with the clergy seated on the floor at their feet.
Eventually, with the arrival of our youngest child, Thomas’s habits being inconsistent with having a baby in the house we decided that he would have to go.
There were no dogs for quite some while after that.
On one occasion I was visiting the Bishop for our regular monthly briefing and his new dog, a golden retriever, came to greet me. Leave him said the Bishop, he’s a murderer.
I do occasionally wonder whether my actions with regard to Thomas affected my future career?
There were no more dogs until we came to Birmingham.
I had an early morning meeting at the TV studio for a live broadcast of the Kilroy show. He was talking about drug addiction and as the Team Leader of the Drugs Prevention Initiative I was invited as an 'expert'.
Also involved in the Show was a Nurse Practitioner who taught drug treatment and prevention to other practitioners.
She had travelled down to Birmingham that morning from her home in Sheffield and appeared to be somewhat out of sorts with herself.
I asked how she was and she replied do you want a dog?
I said that we weren’t looking for a dog, but if we found one tied to a lamp- post with a sign round its neck we might take it home.
Nothing more was said but the following Friday, I had a meeting with my supervisor who had travelled up from London. After the meeting we went for a drink.
Returning to the office the staff were having a great time making a fuss of a beautiful Golden Retriever. I looked surprised and was even more surprised to hear that Doreen had called by, that I had agreed to take him on a trial basis for the weekend and that the staff had named him Harley.
That evening I had to collect my son from the Cathedral after choir practice and take him home. He was extremely surprised when we had to shoehorn him into the front seat of my TR7 with a rather large dog.
On arriving home I had to make it clear to the dog that he was on trial, that Janet was the one who had to be convinced and that his future was entirely in his own hands, or rather paws.
Needless to say he rose to the occasion magnificently and became a favourite. He passed the Vet’s examination, his manners were perfect and his loyalty was second to none.
Sometime later, Doreen did not contact us after the weekend, we heard that he had been rescued from a shelter in Sheffield, that he was a poor traveller that had been sick in the car on the day I met Doreen, and that he was a runaway. But for us he was as close to the perfect dog as we could imagine.
When Janet was in hospital William and I were visiting on a daily basis and we returned one evening to find that someone had smashed the kitchen window with a spade, and tried to enter, Harley must have been asleep in his favourite spot under the dining table in the front room, he must have charged through, and he could present himself pretty fiercely when he chose to, and attacked the burglar who must have exited the way he entered as there were muddy footprints up the garden path and over the fence at the top of the garden.
On one occasion I was told by the Consultant that Janet’s DVT was life threatening and he could not guarantee that she would respond to treatment and survive the week.
Returning to the office the staff were having a great time making a fuss of a beautiful Golden Retriever. I looked surprised and was even more surprised to hear that Doreen had called by, that I had agreed to take him on a trial basis for the weekend and that the staff had named him Harley.
That evening I had to collect my son from the Cathedral after choir practice and take him home. He was extremely surprised when we had to shoehorn him into the front seat of my TR7 with a rather large dog.
On arriving home I had to make it clear to the dog that he was on trial, that Janet was the one who had to be convinced and that his future was entirely in his own hands, or rather paws.
Needless to say he rose to the occasion magnificently and became a favourite. He passed the Vet’s examination, his manners were perfect and his loyalty was second to none.
Sometime later, Doreen did not contact us after the weekend, we heard that he had been rescued from a shelter in Sheffield, that he was a poor traveller that had been sick in the car on the day I met Doreen, and that he was a runaway. But for us he was as close to the perfect dog as we could imagine.
When Janet was in hospital William and I were visiting on a daily basis and we returned one evening to find that someone had smashed the kitchen window with a spade, and tried to enter, Harley must have been asleep in his favourite spot under the dining table in the front room, he must have charged through, and he could present himself pretty fiercely when he chose to, and attacked the burglar who must have exited the way he entered as there were muddy footprints up the garden path and over the fence at the top of the garden.
On one occasion I was told by the Consultant that Janet’s DVT was life threatening and he could not guarantee that she would respond to treatment and survive the week.
I nursed myself to sleep with a couple of bottles of wine that night and passed out on my bed, fully dressed and with one hand hanging over the edge touching the floor.
I awoke to find Harley sleeping next to me, keeping watch and making sure that I was OK.
When we moved to Castle Carrock Harley had to be sedated for the journey, but once in Cumbria he became a different animal and his wanderlust returned.
Again like Thomas before him he was returned from various parts of the local area, he chased deer in Milton Rigg woods and was brought back to The Rectory by a man who found him wandering on the A69.
Sadly his end came when wandering, we think in the Reservoir where he had been trapped when the gates were locked for the weekend, we could hear his distant barking but he was unable to find a way out.
He possibly ate some poisoned bait but when he came back he was in poor shape suffering we later found from an insusseption of the stomach lining. He died in the Vet’s surgery.
I memorialised him in a Radio Broadcast on CFM Radio, commenting on the then Archbishop’s question, which had recently caused a few headlines, as to whether animals have souls and can enter heaven?
I made it clear that Harley exhibited all the signs of a sentient and loyal friend but that St Peter would have to make sure that he was tied to the pearly gates if he wanted to hang on to him.
Before we left Birmingham I heard again from Doreen, she had by now become a one woman Retriever Rescue operation and she had a bitch that she was re-homing for a friend of hers who was going through a painful and difficult divorce.
I awoke to find Harley sleeping next to me, keeping watch and making sure that I was OK.
When we moved to Castle Carrock Harley had to be sedated for the journey, but once in Cumbria he became a different animal and his wanderlust returned.
Again like Thomas before him he was returned from various parts of the local area, he chased deer in Milton Rigg woods and was brought back to The Rectory by a man who found him wandering on the A69.
Sadly his end came when wandering, we think in the Reservoir where he had been trapped when the gates were locked for the weekend, we could hear his distant barking but he was unable to find a way out.
He possibly ate some poisoned bait but when he came back he was in poor shape suffering we later found from an insusseption of the stomach lining. He died in the Vet’s surgery.
I memorialised him in a Radio Broadcast on CFM Radio, commenting on the then Archbishop’s question, which had recently caused a few headlines, as to whether animals have souls and can enter heaven?
I made it clear that Harley exhibited all the signs of a sentient and loyal friend but that St Peter would have to make sure that he was tied to the pearly gates if he wanted to hang on to him.
Before we left Birmingham I heard again from Doreen, she had by now become a one woman Retriever Rescue operation and she had a bitch that she was re-homing for a friend of hers who was going through a painful and difficult divorce.
Imagining life in the Rectory in Castle Carrock it was relatively easy to see how two Golden Retrievers would be better than one and so Sophie came to live with us.
Obviously when she was in season it was necessary to separate the two dogs and Harley would be kennelled for a few days every six months or so.
Sophie became a very special member of our family, she was a rather beautiful, sensitive animal with a long face and sad eyes.
She was in a poor state when she arrived and a raised voice would cause her to lose control, she also committed a major crime within hours of arriving by chewing my brand new Red or Dead Doc Martin’s.
But eventually she settled, guided no doubt by Harley who became her tutor in matters human.
After Harley had died, I contacted the insurance company to remove his name from the policy only to be advised by the young lady at the EIO that our policy allowed us to purchase another dog, same breed, and same sex.
Tucker arrived as a young puppy, carried in the back of the car, wrapped in a blanket and snuggled into William’s arms.
He was a nervous puppy and in complete contradiction of Retrieverness he wouldn’t eat so I had to feed him with a spoon.
Eventually however he grew and developed a relationship with Sophie and became as much a part of the family as Harley had been.
Then Sophie came into season and Tucker became hollow eyed and haunted by desire, we consulted the Vet who explained that it was best to leave him to suffer as he was not old enough to line a bitch.
We noticed that Sophie was putting on weight and we adjusted her food, she carried on putting on weight, so we went back to the Vets who confirmed that despite being neither masterful or experienced, Tucker had accomplished what Harley hadn’t.
She had twelve puppies.
Obviously when she was in season it was necessary to separate the two dogs and Harley would be kennelled for a few days every six months or so.
Sophie became a very special member of our family, she was a rather beautiful, sensitive animal with a long face and sad eyes.
She was in a poor state when she arrived and a raised voice would cause her to lose control, she also committed a major crime within hours of arriving by chewing my brand new Red or Dead Doc Martin’s.
But eventually she settled, guided no doubt by Harley who became her tutor in matters human.
After Harley had died, I contacted the insurance company to remove his name from the policy only to be advised by the young lady at the EIO that our policy allowed us to purchase another dog, same breed, and same sex.
Tucker arrived as a young puppy, carried in the back of the car, wrapped in a blanket and snuggled into William’s arms.
He was a nervous puppy and in complete contradiction of Retrieverness he wouldn’t eat so I had to feed him with a spoon.
Eventually however he grew and developed a relationship with Sophie and became as much a part of the family as Harley had been.
Then Sophie came into season and Tucker became hollow eyed and haunted by desire, we consulted the Vet who explained that it was best to leave him to suffer as he was not old enough to line a bitch.
We noticed that Sophie was putting on weight and we adjusted her food, she carried on putting on weight, so we went back to the Vets who confirmed that despite being neither masterful or experienced, Tucker had accomplished what Harley hadn’t.
She had twelve puppies.
She whelped just at the exact point when we were packing up to move to Bradford.
Eventually the puppies were sold at a healthy profit, one died, seven were sold locally and I took three to Bradford and sold them in West Yorkshire.
One of the puppies went on to become Bishop of Worcester when my friend Peter Selby homed him on the insistence of his wife Jan who rather fell in love with him. He was a handsome dog, very much pick of the litter.
Eventually both dogs, having had a fine life in The Close in Bradford and having moved with us to our house in Liversedge, died, Sophie before our move to Biddenham and Tucker, who retired with us to Cumbria and there developed Canine Dementia and had to be put to sleep.
This discussion of our Canine companions would not be complete without mentioning Ruby.
Ruby is a mongrel, re-homed with her sister from an advert on a local social media site.
It soon became clear that we could not keep both dogs and so eventually we re-homed Tuesday as she was called.
Ruby we decided is too fine to be a mongrel and so we researched her provenance, her mother was a Border Terrier, a popular breed sometimes called, Reed Water Terriers, she also has characteristics associated with the Whippet, including an arrhythmic heartbeat.
Whippets were often trained by the colliers who raced them to chase a lure or scented sack and were sometimes known as sack hounds.
Eventually the puppies were sold at a healthy profit, one died, seven were sold locally and I took three to Bradford and sold them in West Yorkshire.
One of the puppies went on to become Bishop of Worcester when my friend Peter Selby homed him on the insistence of his wife Jan who rather fell in love with him. He was a handsome dog, very much pick of the litter.
Eventually both dogs, having had a fine life in The Close in Bradford and having moved with us to our house in Liversedge, died, Sophie before our move to Biddenham and Tucker, who retired with us to Cumbria and there developed Canine Dementia and had to be put to sleep.
This discussion of our Canine companions would not be complete without mentioning Ruby.
Ruby is a mongrel, re-homed with her sister from an advert on a local social media site.
It soon became clear that we could not keep both dogs and so eventually we re-homed Tuesday as she was called.
Ruby we decided is too fine to be a mongrel and so we researched her provenance, her mother was a Border Terrier, a popular breed sometimes called, Reed Water Terriers, she also has characteristics associated with the Whippet, including an arrhythmic heartbeat.
Whippets were often trained by the colliers who raced them to chase a lure or scented sack and were sometimes known as sack hounds.
So we designated Ruby as the first and sadly, because she is spayed last, Reed Water Hound.
Ruby now shares her life with two Labrador crosses, Stanley and another Ruby who is a Labrador Greyhound cross.
In my new life with Elizabeth the thought of another Golden Retriever has arisen in conversation but usually dismissed as impractical, until ..... a friend came to tell us about her new puppy, our conversation with the Breeder resulted in a yes and so whilst awaiting the arrival of news a name to go with Stanley the Labrador/German Short Haired Pointer cross after much discussion we await the arrival of Baxter .....
Ruby now shares her life with two Labrador crosses, Stanley and another Ruby who is a Labrador Greyhound cross.
In my new life with Elizabeth the thought of another Golden Retriever has arisen in conversation but usually dismissed as impractical, until ..... a friend came to tell us about her new puppy, our conversation with the Breeder resulted in a yes and so whilst awaiting the arrival of news a name to go with Stanley the Labrador/German Short Haired Pointer cross after much discussion we await the arrival of Baxter .....
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