Whisky was the first dog Barry and I had together. He bought her as a three-year-old for my birthday but as I was still at college she went to live with him in an officers' mess. She went everywhere with him, to lectures, to pubs, in cars. The only thing she never enjoyed was running. They would start together but after a short while she'd turn and trot back home. She was house-trained when we got her and nothing else but she learned quickly if there were treats involved.
She would sit . . .
. . . sometimes balancing a biscuit on her nose, which was brown as she was part of an ongoing breeding programme to produce chocolate Labradors. She never had puppies.
She would lie down and stay for long periods. I could take her shopping and she would stay quietly outside shops while I was inside.
One day I forgot – briefly – that she was with me but when I returned to her she was still waiting, looking rather anxious but trusting. She joyfully jumped up at me on that occasion and nearly knocked my front teeth out! (It would have served me right!!)
In those days, more than 40 years ago, we did not know of the danger that chocolate posed to dogs so in this photograph she is gently taking a finger of 'Kit Kat' from my mouth. Even so, she would not eat it until told she could and would sit with it melting in her mouth.
However, she was as greedy as any other Labrador and sucked berries from brambles, bread rolls from strangers' shopping baskets and sandwiches from their hands. It was essential to keep an eye on her while we were out with her.
She submitted to being dressed up but we didn't often put her through that pantomime and of course, we never laughed at her, only with her.
She looked and felt her best in the great outdoors and, like all self-respecting gun dogs loved water. This photo was taken in 1967, the year before our eldest child was born.
She was a wonderful dog, a worthy pioneer for all the dogs we have had in succeeding years. We often discussed changing her name but somehow never found the right one for her.
She was a wonderful dog, a worthy pioneer for all the dogs we have had in succeeding years. We often discussed changing her name but somehow never found the right one for her.
She was 16 when she died and is still remembered fondly by all who knew her.
To see more Camera Critters or Shadow Shots please click on the appropriate label.
Thanks go to the organisers and hosts of these entertaining memes.
To see more Camera Critters or Shadow Shots please click on the appropriate label.
Thanks go to the organisers and hosts of these entertaining memes.
