Please

 

Please

Spare us a crumb, mister . . . please?

Sticks!

 

Sticks!

It is a fact universally acknowledged that dogs enjoy sticks or things that resemble sticks. They like to chase and retrieve them, or chew them, or guard them, or play tug of war with them, or simply lie on them and go to sleep.

Many dogs will seek out a stick as soon as their paws touch the forest floor, and the bigger it is, the better. Roxy Labrador picks up a stick the minute she gets out of the car.

Dogs will navigate gateways and narrow paths with sticks that are much longer than it would be thought possible to manoeuvre. Cariadd Dalmatian used to carry sticks that looked more like telegraph poles.

Some dogs are possessive about their sticks and will not relinquish them. Arthur Cocker Spaniel loves to play the ‘Is that my . . . ?’ game. He will not give up his stick or toy until he is ready. He makes lots of noise, but he is the sweetest little dog.

 Sam Jack Russell insisted on taking his sticks into the back of the car and would not release them until he reached home. He and his sister, Daisy, played sticks with their mother, Biddy. The three of them ran along, two going forwards, one backwards. Biddy was also an accomplished tree climber.

Sticks and water go together. Labradors are persistent retrievers and bob their heads under water, looking and smelling for sticks that have sunk. Atavistic behaviour deep in the retriever memory from their origins, perhaps, from hauling in fishing nets in the chilly Newfoundland waters.

We always make sure that sticks are thick and long enough not to stick in the dogs’ mouths and throats. Mostly, we encourage our dogs to play with Kongs and balls, but sometimes, only a stick will do! 

Destruction!

 

Destruction!

                                Pansy and Clown (blue and chocolate)

Warning! If you are averse to animals, do not read on.

Polly spoke about her Labrador breeding friends and the destruction the puppies wrought, and it reminded me of our brief foray into breeding Burmese cats.

It had never been our intention to breed cats. We had had an accidental breeding of Jack Russells, which was fun for the children, and also why we ended up with four of them – JRs, I mean, though we did have four children, too.

My sister and brother-in-law had a beautiful brown Burmese, called Tip, because he had a white tip to his tail. A few years after I left home – the baby of the family - they gave my parents a little queen who had come to the end of her breeding programme (!) Liza gave them a great deal of pleasure and much appreciated the freedom and love they gave her.

When we decided to acquire a cat, we remembered how affectionate and curious Burmese cats were, and found a local breeder, who had a pretty little brown queen, a few months old. They encouraged us to breed from her, and we thought it would be interesting for the children. That encouragement is not generally given these days, but this was many years ago.

The kittens were enchanting. From Alicat we had brown, chocolate, blue and lilac offspring. Each child and its friends had different favourites, so, naturally, we ended up with quite a few cats.

Pansy Blue as a kitten

People often claim to ‘know’ that cats and dogs are instinctive enemies and cannot live together, and take pleasure in promulgating the myth. We have found them to be allies and friends. The cats groom the dogs’ heads and faces and the dogs step between arguing cats to defuse the situation, as they would with warring dogs.

              Cariadd, (Dalmatian) with six Burmese, one brown, one blue, three chocolates and a lilac. They would climb on her for comfort if they started arguing.

We were extraordinarily lucky with the Jack Russells, known chasers – and killers – of fur. When we brought Alicat home, I sat down, and Daisy JR jumped up on my lap! We never had a problem with them, but I would not risk it again. It just didn’t occur to us to worry.

Puppies are fun, adventurous, and messy, but they don’t climb. Kittens clamber up everything in sight, including people. The view from the top of someone’s head, or the curtains, is exciting and different. If there are no people or furniture available to ascend, the wallpaper will do.

Inevitably, the time came, at three months of age, to bid the kittens farewell to their new homes. Interviewing prospective owners was never a job we relished, but we wanted to ensure our little creatures went to loving homes. Equally, I felt we had to be honest about what they were taking on. Burmese kittens do not lie around looking beautiful, although they can. They are adventurous and curious and can get themselves into unusual hiding places.

We once lost a litter temporarily. We had put them in our en suite shower room, where we were sure they would be safe and could not escape. When I went in to check on them and feed them, I couldn’t see them anywhere. Our shower room is not vast and the window was securely closed. Panic set in momentarily but something caused me to look more closely at the bidet and sure enough, the kittens were tucked safely under the pedestal. They soon emerged for their food, and we found a different room for them to grow up in.

As well as giving prospective owners directions to our house, a task at which I am still very poor, I would test their resolve by telling them what to expect. If they were experienced cat people, they would quickly understand. One man put it succinctly – ‘So, we look for the house with the wallpaper hanging off in shreds.’ I agreed that was the case and he came to collect his kitten anyway.

While kittens may not eat the carpet or the plaster on the walls, or chew the door frame, your shoes, or anything else that takes their fancy, as puppies will, they have sharp claws, like needles. They will tear at your soft furnishings, turn the stair carpet into a series of scratching posts, scale the heights of the kitchen cupboards, and pierce your heart with their unbelievably silky fur and huge, lustrous eyes. A warm purring cat on your lap or next to you as you lie on your bed is worth more than a king’s ransom.

If dog/s join the cat/s, you are more blessed than you could imagine.

We haven’t bred puppies, or kittens for many years. It is exhausting, being responsible for so many tiny beings. Guinea pigs, mice and gerbils are much easier, but once our children grew out of the farming phase, we ceased breeding altogether. Oh, that is, until our youngest child was born. She came during the cat breeding phase. We must have got muddled, somewhere! 

Herbert with Bethan

A Life Full of Animals - part one

 

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. 

Whisky with Gareth

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.

Biddy with Gillian

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

The Eleventh Family Birthday of the Year

Bethan opening presents on her second birthday, helped by Sam

It is Bethan’s 30^th birthday today and she is celebrating it in Bruges with her fiancé.

With Barry, Sam and Daisy

Bethan was a shy little girl and softly spoken. Today she still has a quiet voice but she is confident and strong-minded. She needed to develop a sense of self quite early as she had not only two parents, but three teenage siblings who all wanted to guide and protect her.

Sailing

As she has grown older the age differences have disappeared and now she is the confidante of her two elder sisters and a good friend to her brother. Her nieces and nephews love her and she knows just how to interact with them.

With Barry in Mumbles

As a girl she showed considerable musical ability and quickly learnt to play the violin and to enjoy singing with her school choirs. She has a natural charm and ease with people of all ages and a keen sense of humour – like her father and her siblings she is an excellent mimic.

With Susannah and Marnie, Buckinghamshire

Bethan is open-minded and fair, listening attentively to the arguments of others before stating her own opinion. From Barry she has inherited an analytical brain and like him she is left-handed – somehow the two are linked, at least in my mind.

She was the grandchild with whom my parents spent most time – a gift for my father who was away so much when his own children were growing up. They looked after her while I worked part-time - who better to care for her? - and from them she learnt patience and trust.

Happy Birthday, dear Bethan, and Many Happy Returns of the Day! J

Pet Pride Cariadd

Thank you to Bozo and his human who organise this meme. Click here to see more lovely pets.
Cariadd was our first Dalmatian. She came from Wales so had a Welsh name - Cariadd means 'darling'. Our youngest daughter also has a Welsh name. She was three when we bought Cariadd and the two of them grew up together. In the following photographs Bethan is about 4. She has biscuits for Cariadd, Biddy (forefront) and Daisy the Jack Russells.

Cariadd was a very strong dog and loved to fetch and carry very large sticks!

She would carry them for an hour or an hour and a half, manoeuvring them through narrow forest gates. 

Face of the Week #16 Daisy

Sistertex from 'Spacial Peepol' organises and hosts this lovely meme.

Daisy was born in our bedroom on August 13th, 1978, the only bitch in a litter of five Jack Russell puppies. If you're interested in knowing a little more about her you can find out here.

Pet Pride Daisy

Daisy Dog was a pretty little Jack Russell, very unassuming, much overshadowed by her busy mother, Biddy, and her strong brother, Sam. She was quiet, sweet-tempered and always willing to please. We didn't realise how much we would miss her and she still has her place in our hearts and those of our children and at least two of our grandchildren almost twenty years on.

'The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of her master.' Anon

Thank you to Bozo and his human who organise and host this lovely weekly meme. Click here to see more entries.

Shadow Shot Sunday #103 Jack Russells and a squirrel

If our Jack Russells had ever got as close to a squirrel as this the squirrel would not have lived to tell the tale - or, more likely, the Jack Russells would have had puncture wounds in their noses! Our senior JR, Biddy, used to climb trees, usually in pursuit of sticks. Her daughter, Daisy,  used to discover hedgehogs in the garden, yelp and then come in covered in fleas. They were noisy terriers unless there was a fox in the near vicinity when they would be very quiet and watchful. Local foxes learnt to avoid our garden!
Tracy from 'Hey Harriet' organises and hosts this meme - thank you, Tracy :-) Click here to see more shadow shots - and maybe join in?

The Dog Days of My Life: #9 - Cariadd

When Sam died we thought that Daisy would be a comfort to her mother but Biddy was inconsolable. Indeed, Biddy seemed to need something to mother and Daisy had not fulfilled that role since she was weaned. We decided that a puppy would help heal Biddy's heart and we set about finding one. Barry wanted a running breed and we considered an English Setter but breeders advised us that Setters would run off into the next county at the slightest invitation. Whisky had shown us that Labradors were walkers rather than runners (in later years we would discover this not always to be the case.)

After considering and rejecting various breeds we gradually came to the realisation that a Dalmatian would fit the bill. I had always hankered after these elegant dogs but Barry had demurred, thinking them beautiful but stupid. Conversations with many breeders corrected this misconception. We duly tracked down a breeder with puppies almost old enough to go to their new homes. Avril and Bill Bale-Stock were experienced breeders and handlers. Their very successful champion dog at the time was Appaloosa Spring Classic and he had sired a litter of fourteen. The dam was having difficulty looking after so many pups so when they were three weeks old Avril took six of them back to her house to hand-rear them. Before she agreed to allow us to go and see them she ascertained that I was not house-proud. Dalmatians shed short white hairs all year round. The hairs attach themselves to any and everything and are therefore transported across continents. There are people who have never been near a Dalmatian who have nonetheless found a scattering of them. The dogs also shed their black or liver hairs but these are not so noticeable.

With great excitement we drove to South Wales to meet breeders and puppies and dogs - spots before the eyes, indeed. Bethan, then three, went outside to play with the puppies which milled around her, nipping and tugging at her clothes and she loved them. I believe it was her demeanour with them that convinced Avril and Bill that a Dalmatian would fit into our family. Bethan told them that Biddy was sad because she couldn't lick Sam's ears any more. We chose a pretty little bitch and dreamt all night of spotted dogs. Two weeks later we brought her home. We wanted a name that would reflect her Welsh origins and decided on Cariadd, a Welsh endearment equating to 'Darling' or 'Dearest'. Avril had told us that dogs never forget their first owners and indeed many years later when Bethan was at Swansea University Cariadd would always perk up and look around as we crossed the Severn Bridge.

Biddy and Daisy greeted the newcomer enthusiastically, playing with her exuberantly but carefully in the manner of adult dogs with puppies.

Biddy and Cariadd play ball with an old squeaky toy of Bethan's.

Although Cariadd grew to be much, much bigger than the Jack Russells, in her mind she was always a little dog and preferred the company of small animals.At this stage Biddy was much faster than Cariadd

In fact, she was a safe refuge when the cats fell out with each other for they would sit on her, safe in the knowledge that they would not be attacked. A very patient and long-suffering Cariadd with six or seven previously-squabbling Burmese cats crowded around and on her. Biddy is on the left.
Having been brought up with the stick-loving JRs Cariadd developed the dedication to extremes, picking up and carrying huge logs around the forest as she accompanied Barry on his runs. Parts of the forest have gates or narrow openings into further sections and when she came to these she would manoeuvre her tree trunk through with great dexterity. Unlike Sam she never attempted to take them into the car.

Barry and Bethan after running with Cariadd. Barry holds up a typical Cariadd 'stick'. Cariadd is smiling the Dalmatian smile which looks like a snarl but is actually an expression of pleasure. Many breeds of dog smile in similar fashion.

After Biddy died Cariadd and Daisy became closer. Both quiet dogs they demanded little of each other more than companionship. Old dogs sleep a great deal but look for each other when awake. We always wish for our animals, as for our loved humans, that they will slip away peacefully in their sleep. It rarely happens and dear Daisy had to be eased on her way. For such a little, unassuming creature she left a huge hole in our lives and we needed a new focus, for Cariadd too. That's how our next canine arrived!

Cariadd was a very healthy dog but when she was about fourteen she developed a gastric torsion and would have died without surgical intervention. She recovered well and was fit until she was sixteen when she became unable to maintain her balance. It transpired that she had a growth on her spinal column which was not treatable and so inevitably she had to be helped across the Rainbow Bridge.

We have found that the best way to come to terms with losing a loved companion is to haul out the photographs and videos and laugh and cry as we remember the youth and energy and then the all too rapid progression to the final dignity of advanced age. We often ask ourselves why we have these animals that ultimately break our hearts. There is no logical answer but that life would be poorer, less fun, more self-centred. Pets help us to maintain our physical, mental and emotional health. Certainly they restrict our movements – we cannot take off on a whim or decide to stay overnight after a day out instead of going home. We have a responsibility to them but we are so much richer for their company. They give unconditionally and we are privileged to share our lives with them.

The Dog Days of My Life: #8 - Daisy

Daisy was a pretty little dog, long-legged and dainty. She was a very quiet animal, somewhat overshadowed by Biddy and Sam. Rather unkindly we dubbed her Dozy Daisy and said she was the canine equivalent of a dumb blonde (Sorry to any blondes out there, including some of my daughters and granddaughters!)

Daisy (left) with Biddy

She was happy when Sam returned to the fold and it was good to have two puppies entertaining each other. I didn't feel quite so chipper about it when Gareth phoned me at the end of my first day as Deputy Head to inform me that Daisy and Sam had destroyed the seat of one of our easy chairs. The damage was irreparable but the puppies suffered no ill effects. These days we have an indoor kennel to keep immature canines safe.
Daisy was a wonderful running companion for Barry, alongside Biddy, Leo (until he went to live with my parents) and Sam. They formed a pack and brooked no nonsense. One day Barry met some people who had lost a Bloodhound and he promised to look for it as he continued his run. The people said, 'There's one thing you should know – he (the dog) doesn't like Jack Russells. He killed one recently. Do be careful.'
A short while later Barry found the Bloodhound which reacted as he had been warned, approaching the JRs menacingly. Before he could blink each dog had attached itself to one of his limbs and suddenly the Brave Bloodhound was feeling very sorry for himself with a Jack Russell hanging off every quarter. Barry retraced his steps and returned the subdued dog to his relieved owners, telling them what had happened and concluding, 'I don't think you'll have problems with him and Jack Russells any more.'
When Daisy and Sam were about three years old, Susannah expressed a desire for a rabbit. We'd had rabbits before but they fell prey to strange illnesses and didn't live long and prosperous lives. Barry was uneasy about keeping a rabbit in a hutch, even with an attached run as we had done before. He felt they were too restricted. We had tried having them in the house - my mother had a house rabbit when she was a girl, so we knew it was possible – but ours didn't understand the first thing about house-training and also chewed through wires, cutting us off from the outside world. 'How about a cat?' he said and Susannah agreed that would be a fine compromise.
The brown Burmese cat we brought home was a few months old. We were concerned about introducing her to the dogs – Jack Russells are fur-chasers, after all – so we all sat in the dining room, with Coriander Autumn Lady, henceforth known as AliCat, on my lap. We let the dogs into the room and Daisy was so confused that she jumped up on my lap with the cat. Everyone laughed and that was that – introduction completed.

AliCat's son, Herbie, cuddles up to Daisy

In the Autumn we would sometimes have a hedgehog looking for somewhere to hibernate. Daisy always found it and closely inspected it until its prickles made themselves felt and she would yelp and come indoors, covered in fleas. She never minded the inevitable bath that followed.

Daisy 'singing' - many of our dogs have been musical

A very faithful and sweet-natured dog, she rarely strayed from Barry's side when running but one day she disappeared. Barry remained in the forest for hours, retracing the tracks he had run but she was nowhere to be seen. Dejected he returned home with the other two very well-exercised and tired dogs. We went to bed with heavy hearts, fearing we would never see Daisy again, but left the side gate and patio doors open 'just in case.' Around midnight we heard pattering paws and then the sound of a little animal rushing upstairs. A car is the easiest and safest way to take lively, energetic dogs to the forest so Daisy had never walked the route. Somehow she had found her way back.
She had a bout of hysterical blindness once. It didn't last long and the vet was unconvinced but we knew and she knew that she couldn't see for a short period. After Sam died when she was six she came into her own, mainly because she moved up the pecking order. For a while our new puppy was smaller than her.

The Dog Days of My Life: #7 - Sam

Sam aged around 3 with Susannah (left) and Bethan. He had beautiful velvety ears. Click the photo to enlarge.
Sam didn't stay long at his new home. A new baby, two young children and a harassed mother meant that there was no time for a small puppy so he came back to us. We hadn't planned to have four dogs – we'd kept his sister, Daisy - but it was good to see the little chap again.
All went well until Sam began to grow up and started asserting his independence. Leo kept him in order and at first Sam submitted to his father's sharp reprimands. Increasingly, as Sam grew stronger and more determined he and Leo disagreed. They were both strong-minded alpha dogs and struck sparks off each other. It was increasingly apparent that one of them was going to hurt the other though we couldn't be sure which dog would be victorious. Eventually my parents offered to give Leo a home. They had moved to Berkshire from Kent a few years earlier and lived a short walking distance from us. We were relieved and my parents were pleased but Leo kept coming back to us. Previously he had been just a visitor at their house so thought nothing had changed. Perhaps we should have let Sam go to them but Leo was quiet and well-behaved and older while Sam was an energetic youngster needing lots of exercise. When Leo finally realised his new home and people were a permanent arrangement he settled and was extremely happy with them for the rest of his life. He remained always delighted to see Biddy and us but he was a faithful companion to my parents.

Sam brings the stick back to Biddy watched by Daisy. They loved playing in the water - fresh or salt, they didn't mind!
Sam relaxed once Leo was out of the picture. Of the two puppies Sam was definitely Biddy's favourite. She spent hours grooming him and licking his ears and he basked in the attention. For a small dog he had exceptionally strong shoulders and neck and picked up heavy logs in the forest every day. He would not relinquish them until he had reached home so that after a while we had a substantial log pile at the end of the drive. All three dogs played 'sticks' often with one of them going backwards for none of them would give up possession once obtained and naturally they all wanted the same stick. There was a good deal of noise as they each struggled for ascendancy but there was never any aggression.

Play-time over, Biddy leads Daisy and Sam out of the water.

Sam's end came prematurely and sadly. He had a bad habit of following interesting sniffs, deaf to all commands to return. On this particular day, my birthday, he ran into the road next to the field Barry was running round. Barry set off after him and was just in time to see someone throwing Sam's inert body into a ditch at the side of the road. Sam had been knocked down and the driver got in his car and drove away. For four days Sam stayed at the vet's surgery and seemed to be recovering and then one day he simply died. The shock to his sturdy little body had been just too much. He was just six years old. Daisy (ahead) and Sam struggle to reach Bethan to lick her. Barry restrains them.

Once again Biddy mourned but this time with Daisy by her side.