When I was young and starting courting, I had to do a triage of my boyfriends. If they didn't like animals, well that was just too bad. Even if they were good looking, charming or wanted to take me to the cinema, if they didn't like animals they were "chucked". As I grew older, and one would think wiser, not only would boyfriends have to like animals but they would have to be willing to occasionally walk them or dog sit for me if I was at work, busy, or walking the other dogs.

My animals come first. They always have done. My last marriage terminated with the phrase from my husband "either the dogs go or I go". He went and I still have my dogs.

I can't remember how it all started. Dogs always seem to have been with me since I was a child. I have never been frightened of dogs in spite of having been bitten countless times, mostly when I was working in animal shelters. Some of the dogs brought in were so frightened of people following the cruelty they had received from their owners. Some were badly injured and only bit because of pain or fear. I've never begrudged a dog that bit me under these circumstances. Also having been a veterinary nurse for many years taught me the wisdom of keeping myself out of the reach of bared teeth. I've always been able to talk my way out of a delicate encounter with a bad tempered horse because I respect the fact that they bite at one end and kick at the other, but dogs aren't always that easy.

A tiny black Chihuahua belonging to my neighbour,  a farmer, was one of the most aggressive animals I have ever had the misfortune to encounter when I was working as a veterinary nurse. Outside of the surgery she was a sweet tempered, affectionate little dog that loved everyone. Get her on the consultation table to clip her nails and she turned into a canine version of a Piranha fish. She would bite everyone who held her, she didn't miss a single one. She had never been ill in her life and  died in her sleep at 22 years of age. I wont forget her because I still have the scars!

Many rescue dogs have shared my life. Sometimes for just a short period because they were very old and poorly, some for several years, but I have always had a special place in my heart (and home) for old dogs that have been abandoned or badly treated.

My last one was Trudie, a very old, maybe 15 - 16 years of age, chocolate and white Collie that had been ejected from a vehicle and left to fend for herself. Val Philips of Valgrays Border Collie and Sheepdog Rescue was the only organisation to take her on when she had done her 7 days at the dog pound and was due to be put to sleep.

There was a small article in Dog World explaining Trudies situation. Nobody wanted her because she was too old and too ill. In spite of the petrol crisis at that time, people managed to get Trudie to me. She was as deaf as a door post, had tunnel vision, congestive heart problems, arthritis, a mouth full of rotten stinking teeth, fleas, ticks, extremely underweight and she had the mange! She would keel over at least a dozen times a day, then several seconds later she would pick herself up and get on with whatever she had to do. A visit to the vet and regular special baths to get rid of the mange was first on the agenda. Tablets helped her bad circulation and she keeled over much less.

She was wormed, treated for fleas and ticks, 3 good meals a day and lots and lots of TLC. My other dogs loved and respected her. Not one of them would lay in her bed and when she tottered and accidentally bumped into them, they kept clear of her. She lived with us for several months and when I had to have her put to sleep because of tumours on her liver, I cried bitterly asking myself yet again, why do people ill treat animals? She had obviously been a very beautiful dog in her youth and had a friendly cheerful temperament. I miss her.

REMEMBERING

We have a secret you and I,
That no one else shall know,
For who but I can see you lie,
Each night, in fireglow?
And who but I can reach my hand
Before I go to bed,
And feel the living warmth of you
And touch your silken head?
And only I walk woodland paths,
And see, ahead of me,
Your small form racing with the wind,
So young again, and free!
And only I can see you swim
In every brook I pass. . .
And, when I call, no one but I
Can see the bending grass. . .

 . . Author Unknown

Why own a Border Collie? There's a danger you know
You can't own just one, for the craving will grow.
There's no doubt they're addictive, wherein lies the danger
While living with lots, you'll grow poorer and stranger.

One dog is no trouble, and two are so funny
The third one is easy, the fourth one's a honey
The fifth is delightful; the sixth one's a breeze.
You find you can live with a houseful, with ease.

So how about another? Would you really dare?
They're really quite easy, but oh gosh, the hair!
With dogs on the sofa and dogs on the bed
And crates in the kitchen, "its no bother" you said.

They're really no trouble, their manners are great
What's just one more dog and one more little crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty,
The floor is all footprints, the furniture is dusty.

The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care,
Who minds a few nose prints, and a little more hair.
So lets keep a puppy, you can always find room
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom.

There's hardly a limit to the dogs you can add.
The thought of a cutback, sure makes you feel sad.
Each one is special, so useful, so funny,
The food bill grows larger, you owe the vet money.

Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other dog folk who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died and your shrubs are dead, too
Your weekends are busy, you're off with your crew.

There's dog food and dog treats, training and shots...
And entries and travel and motels which cost lots
" Is it worth it?" you wonder? "Are you caught in a trap?
Then your favourite comes up and climbs on your lap.

Her look says you're special and you know that you will
Keep all the critters in spite of the bill.
Some just for showing and some just to breed
And some just for loving, they all fill a need.

Winter is a hassle, but the dogs love it, true,
And they must have their walks though you're numb and blue
Late evening is awful, you scream and you shout
At the dogs on the sofa who refuse to go out.

The dogs and the dog shows, competitions, the thrills
The work and the worry, the pressure, the bills!
The whole thing seems worth it, the dogs are your life.
They're charming and funny and offset the strife.

Your lifestyle has changed, things just won't be the same.
Yes those dogs are addictive and so is the dog game!

Author Unknown