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.

The Dog Days of My Life: #6 - Leo

Poor Biddy was bereft after Whisky's demise. She had never been an 'only dog' and human company was not sufficient to alleviate her misery. We contacted her breeders to see if they had another bitch for sale but all they had available was a two-year-old rough-coated dog. Naturally we fell for him! At the time he was called Johnny but as we had a human friend by that name we renamed him Leo, which suited his looks.
Biddy was delighted to have a new friend – and what's more he was the same size as her. Leo was a very well-behaved dog and had never been allowed inside the house at his previous home so for many months he stopped short at the threshold and had to be encouraged to step over. He had been out with the hunt many times and he and Biddy were an extremely effective rat deterrent. At the time our children also had mice, which they bred, and guinea pigs which regularly reproduced. Leo could not - or would not - discriminate between them and 'fur' he had previously been trained and encouraged to harry. He watched attentively as Gillian cleaned out her mouse habitat and when one day one little beast wriggled free of her hands he snaffled it and swallowed almost before 'NO' was formed on her lips. He was in disgrace with her for some time. The guinea pigs, delightful creatures, must have been the fittest and most athletic ever born for they were chased relentlessly when Leo was in the garden. They were perfectly safe in their mesh enclosed run but ran from his questing nose anyway.
We had been told that he had been used at stud though he never displayed any of the more undesirable traits of stud dogs – humping cushions or legs – so I suppose subconsciously we felt that he was not unduly concerned about the whole enterprise. Confidently we assured each other, Barry and I, that when the time arrived we would be able to keep him apart from Biddy. This was proved to be an entirely spurious assumption for when Biddy came into season Leo was on her like - well, like a dog!
Although Leo was a biddable and affectionate dog we didn't entirely trust him around children and never left him in their company unaccompanied by an adult. He gave no indication of potential aggression other than a change of expression in his eyes. The soft, gentle look would change fleetingly to a hard look and then just as quickly back again. After Biddy's five puppies were born she kept Leo at bay until they had grown larger and stronger.

The bitch puppy stayed with us but the four dog puppies found homes. One returned to us after a short while, his new owners finding a very small puppy and an equally young baby and two other little children too much of a challenge. I suspect also that they were disappointed we had not had his tail docked. Tails are a means of communication and such an important and delightful part of a dog.

So now we had four dogs, mother, father, son and daughter!

The Dog Days of My Life: #5 - Biddy

Whisky's unlooked-for canine companion was six or seven months old when she came to live with us. She was a long-legged tan and white Jack Russell (the type now known as Parson Jack Russell) and had already been out cubbing. Throughout her life she remained magnetically drawn to fox and rabbit holes and spent a lot of time underground emerging many hours later with her coat uniformly brown. On many occasions just as Barry had decided she was gone forever – she always disappeared when he was running - she would appear, a tiny white dot in the distance, balancing on her stubby tail.

Her breeders described her as 'a frothy bitch' and she was certainly a very lively little dog. There was not an ounce of malice in her and she was a delight for our children, always ready to join in their games even if they didn't want her to. Gillian and Susannah loved her but Gareth in particular relished her energy and willingness to rush about with him. She loved balls and was an expert dribbler though beach balls were quite a challenge. She enjoyed fetching sticks and would leap and climb up into rhododendron bushes in the forest to retrieve them.

When we first moved into our house there were a number of cats that treated our garden as their own. One day Busy Biddy took exception to this and chased one of them, yipping excitedly all the while. The cat was able to keep out of reach but suddenly decided it had had enough of the game and calmly sat down and faced Biddy as she was closing with it. Non-plussed, Biddy skidded to a halt and trotted back to us. If her tail had been long enough she would have carried it between her legs. Later in her life she would share her living space with many cats.

When she was not playing or eating or tunnelling Biddy spent much time 'submitting'. Without a word from any of us she would move in front of the selected human and roll over on her back, legs in the air. It was an interesting manoeuvre; one shoulder would go down slowly, her eyes on the human face, and the rest of her body would follow the shoulder to contact the floor, turn over and expose her furry tummy. Her tail, meanwhile, wagged constantly.

She worshipped Whisky but had good puppy manners and was very respectful and finally Whisky came, rather grudgingly, to accept her friendly overtures and to appreciate her company. When Whisky died Biddy mourned her and became very depressed. We decided the only solution was to acquire a companion for her as quickly as possible and that's how the next dog joined our tribe.

The Dog Days of My Life: #4 - Whisky

I was twenty-one when the next dog came into my life. She was a three-year-old yellow Labrador called Whisky and was a birthday present from my husband before we were married. She had been destined for a show career and we were told that she had 'done well' at Cruft's. Unfortunately her owner developed serious back trouble and couldn't keep her. Barry took her to live with him in the Officers' Mess at Shrivenham as I was still at college.

Whisky was beautiful and she was house-trained – and that was all! Barry had to give her a crash course in acceptable behaviour as she was to accompany him everywhere - to University lectures, to the Mess for meals, to the pub some evenings. She was a quick learner but remained an inveterate thief, gently and quickly swiping items from people's hands, shopping baskets, shop fronts. When blackberries were in season she would suck them from the brambles as she passed. She was also gun shy which didn't matter to us but would have been a problem if we had liked shooting. Barry was a cross-country runner and went out daily but Whisky didn't enjoy running and would turn round after a short distance and make her way home.

Sometimes I took her to school with me and she helped nervous children overcome their fear of dogs. She would climb on my lap while they were working so that when they looked up again they saw her lovely face rather than mine. When we pushed back the desks for 'Music and Movement' she gleefully joined in as they pranced round the classroom.

In the very cold winter (by UK standards) a couple of months before our first daughter was born Whisky became very sick. The vet thought she had eaten rat poison and his prognosis was grim. Barry got up every three hours to feed her a spoonful of baby food and she gradually recovered and regained her strength. She lived on for another twelve years, a gentle and loving companion.

She didn't like ladders or buses and always barked at them. The only time she ever showed any mild aggression was one night when Barry came home very late. We had two very young children then and Whisky felt it was her duty to protect the three of us while the Master was away. As Barry came through the door she barged him over then realised who he was and was overcome with remorse.

Whisky was a delightful and affectionate character and a perfect introduction to dogs for three of our children. (Bethan was born after Whisky had travelled on.) One day when Gareth was a very small boy he was sitting on my lap and put one finger in each of her nostrils – they were a perfect fit. I only realised what had happened when I heard her panting and looked down; she had made no attempt to move away from what must have been a very uncomfortable situation.

When Susannah was about a year old we decided to have another dog, a companion for Whisky and a means of easing her inevitable passing for our children. Whisky was not impressed by the newcomer but was noted surreptitiously sniffing her when she thought she wasn't being watched.

Never again would we have only one dog.

Whisky, like all Labradors, loved water.