I vaguely remember that I was about 7-8 years old when my parents decided we should have a dog. Our beloved Basset Hound was 8 weeks old when we collected him from a dog show where his Mum was being shown. His full Pedigree name was something like "Brackenacre James" and we called him Maxwell. I sat in the boot with him all the way home, all long velvety ears and the chunkiest softest paws imaginable. He was good all the way home until we parked in our drive and he toileted on the towel in the boot!
After that I remember being annoyed at his constant nipping at the ankles. When I had socks on, he seemed to think they were moving, playful toys playing hard-to-get.
He squashed down a once bountiful bush by making it his garden resting spot. He killed the grass around the laundry pole with his wee. He rescued baby birds that had fallen out of their nests by scooping them up in his mouth. He fell into the pond one year when it had apparently frozen over and he thought it safe to wander across! He LOVED food and would slip and slide and trip over his ears dashing across the kitchen tiles to get to it. He was petrified of baths so everytime he came back from the groomers he'd be oh-so-beautifully soft but would stink of old lady. He was scared of my rabbit. He used to love sneaking upstairs to be with me whenever anyone forgot to close the stair gate properly. He was stubborn as hell - whether due to breeding or lack of training, who knows! We like to think it was just in his character. ^.^
His ears were so gorgeously soft so I was always upset when, in later years, he kept developing blood clots which would make parts of his ear bubble up. He was on the smelly side...which I now think is because back then we had no clue about the need to express anal glands. I don't think I wandered about smelling of dog but who knows - you kind of get used to it when you live with it! I remember him eating a sharp rock when he was still quite young and he had to have an operation to have it taken out. So many times I remember him with shaved squares on his body from having to have something done but he always bounced back, tail wagging and all. My Mum says the vet bills were extortionate but who cares about money when your beloved companion is in pain?!
Despite all his health problems and greying hairs and old-age incontinence he lived till the age of 13. Remembering that day makes me sad as the last time I saw him was him sitting on his bed in the hallway and giving him a quick kiss and pat on the head as I left the house to go to my then-boyfriend's house. About 6 hours later as I was having dinner I had the call from my mum and I remember dropping to the floor in grief (dramatic oooh) but I was so upset and crying for hours (and the then-boyfriend was absolute pants at consoling me as he'd never liked dogs, let alone Max so that was totally doomed in the first place really). The guilt I feel for not being there still weighs down on me, even 6 years on. It may sound faintly ridiculous to want to say "goodbye" to your dog but you just do, so that he could go with the people who loved him most around him.So with that hovering over me, I've read up and studied and am now rearing to be Pug mumma to Coco to give her the plushy life I couldn't give our Maxwell.
Since we had Max and in the years since his passing, I've strongly felt that a house is not a home without a dog. So with Coco I hope to bring the wagging warmth and unconditional love that Max brought to my home during his time with us!
End indulgent sentimentality =)
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