It's a Dog's Life

Like any other person heading off on holiday, I pack my holiday essentials: sun cream, toothbrush and books, Books BOOKS. This June was no different. One of the books I decided to take was Marley and Me by John Grogan. I saw the film a little while ago and thoroughly enjoyed the tortuous tale of a young family and their maniacal mutt. And the book was a marvelous read and I highly recommend it, whether you have seen the film or not.

When I was little - I mean really little - I always wanted a dog and was not allowed to have one. My parents were justifiably concerned that being a child, I would not take good care of a dog and the responsibility would therefore be left to them... or rather Mum! Mum finally yielded following a break-in and we went to a local family that had just had a litter of Border Collie pups.

It was my brother, David, that picked out our treasured family pet. She was originally called 'Dotty' but Mum insisted that she was not going to walk around the village calling "Dotty... Dotty... Come here Dotty!" so we quickly renamed her 'Brèagha', Gaelic for beautiful. Although the name was apt (she was a beautiful dog all her life), Dotty was perhaps just as apt because she was a complete nutcase! She hated men and barked non-stop at any man (other than David, Dad or my husband, Steve) who entered the house. She had a penchant for digging, which manifested initially in uprooted rose bushes or holes under the fence (despite the gate being wide open all the time) and later in a six foot hole at the side of the house, which Dad discovered only when my parents eventually moved. She used to sit on your shoulder (was she a dog or a parrot?) and watch TV. She was particularly fond of Star Trek The Next Generation and used to sit a foot away from the TV and tilt her head from side to side. She loved yoghurt pots, even when they was no yoghurt in them; plant pots, without the plants; and plastic lids, which she could destroy within 24 hours. She wouldn't eat unless you tried to take her food away and loved nothing more than a good game of 'My Bone'. She chased sheep, rabbits, birds, cats, people and even cars; one time she did actually catch a rabbit... and then promptly let it go because she didn't know what to do with it. Her answer to grooming was to swim in a river, in the sea or any other body of water, as long as it wasn't clean. She hated the bath and the brush in equal measure. She used to run in fear of Dad's hiccups but couldn't love enough when you came home after being away - even if 'away' was five minutes to nip round the corner to the shop. She was my best friend as I grew up and the day she had to be put to sleep (due to cancer that had spread in her hind quarters) was no less heartbreaking than the day my brother died because she was just as much a part of our family.

The wonderful thing is, reading Marley and Me and chatting to a colleague at work who has just got a new pup, my experience of having a dog, and the love that I and my whole family felt, is not unique. John Grogan suggests that you can learn a lot from a dog and asks how many people in the world can make you feel so loved. What is also incredible is the connection that you can feel to other dog owners. You share a great common ground and together you laugh at your pets' follies, despair at their lunacies and you share joy and pain at their lives and deaths. A dog might bring noise, chores and fur in abundance to your home, but he or she brings so much more. I miss my dog and if it wasn't for the fact I work 5 days a week, I would have another in a heartbeat.