Procrastingnating

I am tidying my studio which means I get to hang some pictures - well so far thats all I have done really as I had some empty frames that needed filling so been deciding in photos to print - but the picture gallery is looking good so far

These are my doggies - 2 were already framed the 3rd I had to search for a suitable photo (in my old files, on CDs, took ages to open and some files may now be corrupted :( a job for another day).

So Ferdinand you already know (oh in case you are new Ferd is the Red and White Sprocker he is my current dog)..

Now onto gone but never forgotten:

No photo - am sure there is one somewhere I will dig through the old photos:
Samson (Sam for short)
He was a springer x Irish setter, I think he was a blue roan in colour.
My Mum got him when she was pregnant with me. Well at first (the story goes) she thought she was just putting on a little weight, then thought she was pregnant but the doctors would not confirm it (possible complications/age/no idea - doctors didnt want to get her hopes up).

Anyway we kinda grew up together (he was a rescue) and he was very protective of me, so as long as I had Sam with me when I was out roaming the fields by myself (yes I survived being out of parental visual range and getting dirty and all those other things that kids seem to not be allowed to do) she was never worried.

He got badly injured once over the fields (not a walk I was on) he ran into the blades of a field plough that had been left out by the farmer. I dont know what happened if maybe my Dad carried him home or someone went for help (I was little) but I remember that everyone was scared that he would not make it home. The vets managed to patch him up and he recovered. He past away of old age. We were all very sad but especially my Mum who declared that she was never going to have another dog.

A while later...

The Border Collie (erm top in case you aren't familiar with the breeds).
Fred.
Rescued.
As soon as we met him in the rescue centre and heard his story we knew he was coming home with us.

We were told that he had been brought to train as an army dog but didnt make the grade and went to an army family as a pet and then onto another army family and then to the rescue. While in the kennels at the rescue centre he was attacked by the other dogs and the kennel staff had to wade in with mops and buckets to get to him - they feared the worse but he was alive. He was moved into the house (with the owner of the rescue centre). He was thin, his tail looked like a bit of string and food was going right through him.

We didnt even have to go through the normal home visits to check suitability as the lady that did the home visits lived in the same village as us and well I think my Mum was well known as the person who would take in waifs and strays.

So he came home - but he almost went back.
He had only been home for a short while when he bit me. So I was given the choice send him back or we keep working on him. You can still see the scar on my arm. But it was my fault, how could I condemn him. You see we were learning his issues and he was curled up on my Mums lap when I leaned over to kiss her good night. It was a nasty bite but not his fault, I should never have leaned over him, he felt threatened and scared.
I still remember the look on his face as my Mum took me into the kitchen to clean the wound - he looked so sad and knew he had done wrong. My Mum asked if I wanted him sent back and I said no. After that it was like he knew what I had done for him and we had a close bond (this is something that maybe only another rescue dog owner could fully understand) I was the only one allowed to touch him in certain places and do certain things.

Now like I said he had issues - we worked out that he had been beaten, that he had been tied up outside, that he had to lay on concrete, that guns (and loud noise) were a big no no. He didnt like anyone esp Men in uniform or even worse lab coats. We had to change vets (best thing ever). But he was a great dog (he kept jehovah witnesses from knocking on our door for years as we discovered he had locally been nicked named devil dog - well he would let people in and not let them leave).

He suffered from premature ageing and muscle wastage. He got really bad arthritis.

But he was also the most wonderful teacher and surrogate parent to my next dog.

He was not very old when we had to have him put down - when the mistreatment from when he was a puppy made him so poorly. He could hardly walk and was in pain it was time (he went to sleep on the patio by the pond with my Mum to keep him company (the vet was brilliant) while I was inside consoling and being consoled by Solo).

English Springer Spaniel (bottom left)
Solo (as in Han Solo - yes I am a massive Star Wars fan)
Solo was brought, a pedigree, a baby puppy. He was brought for me. I had always wanted a black and white springer and my Mum promised I could have one when I was sick. But that had to be put on hold as my terminally ill grandfather came to live with us.

My grandfather past away and an add came up in the local paper my Mum rang never believing that they would have any of the litter left. They did 2 boys. So we went to see. Solo was the smallest the runt he stole my heart and on the day of my Grandfathers funeral we brought home this tiny puppy with a kink at the tip of his tail curled up on my lap.

He was mine and Mums dog (I had saved up some money so that went towards paying for him). He was my friend and companion. He was trained to voice and silent hand commands. He even once caught a wood pigeon. Mr Mouse and me were on a walk and told him to go off and catch dinner - well he did.

I went off to uni but always came home to my dog. I left home and he stayed but I missed him terribly.

When we were planning our wedding he became sick eventually the vets discovered he had puppy mites and he seemed to rally. Sadly on the morning of my wedding day time was rushed and I never got the shot I wanted of me and My Dog. It was a short while afterwards we had to put him to sleep - he almost made his 11 birthday it turned out he had liver cancer. My Mum was devastated as we had recently discovered that her cancer had come back and she knew that she would never have another dog. I was devastated, Solo had been such a big part of my life through the worst days of my illness, though everything.

Then Ferd.
We knew we wanted a dog but had decided to wait as my Mum had terminal cancer.

I knew I wanted a sprocker. Mr Mouse he wasnt sure. We thought about a beagle and lots of other types. Although Mr Mouse had grown up with dogs he had never had that experience of a puppy that was his, that he got to choose. We knew that we didnt want a rescue (I didnt feel that Mr Mouse was prepared for that sort of challenge not yet). In the end I got lots of info about different breeds so Mr Mouse could get an idea of what he was potentially letting himself in for (after all he was going to be the stay at home Dad). We agreed spaniel. I happened upon a sprocker litter (they dont come up too often). We sort of egged each other on to phone - I dont think either of us believed that any would be left. And so Mr Mouse got to come home with a tiny puppy nestled in his arms and my Mum got to have a surrogate puppy in her last months.