It took the best part of four years to get the Sage to agree to have another dog. Mind you, there's an 8 year gap between Al and Ro, so it can be seen that patience (mine) pays off. And then I relaxed, feeling that the right puppy would find us.
I put the word out among friends. I wanted a mongrel puppy, wasn't too fussy about the parentage, though it had to be good with children. And one day I was invited to a coffee morning by my friend Denise. It was a charity thing - one person invited 8 people, each of them invited 4, they invited 2 and they invited 1, each host paying something, can't remember what, to the designated charity. Bridget and I were the 2 - I simply paid my amount to the charity, I wasn't going to invite a single friend round and ask her to pay for it. Anyway, I told them about my puppy-hunt and Bridget said that the delivery driver who brought their horse feed had said that their bitch had three week old puppies. She was a Bearded Collie, the father was an Irish (Red) Setter. It sounded ideal. Bridget and her husband were interested too, and I asked her to give the driver my number. And the next day, his wife Zoë phoned.
She invited us to see the puppies and we were off within minutes. On the way, I said to the Sage that, if there was a blond boy, that's what I'd like best, but I thought we'd know the one. And he agreed. And Zoë took us in to her back room and there was the mother - crumbs, I can't think of her name ... Finty? No, but I'm not miles out, I'll come back to you on that. Rusty was the father, that I do remember.
There were 8 puppies, 3 blond (all boys) and 5 black (some male, some female). They wanted to keep the biggest blond boy but we had the pick of the rest. I picked him instantly but didn't say and the Sage said the same one. He and his brother were exactly the same except that ours had a faint almost heart-shaped white mark on his head.
Zoë was very welcoming and didn't mind us bringing the children to visit the pups at the weekend. She and her husband had two sons, the elder Ro's age and the other (who was, tragically, killed in a car accident three or four years ago) a couple of years younger. Have you ever handled young puppies? That puppy smell? Oh, it's marvellous. Milk-fed puppies, warm and cuddly, with puppy-breath and soft paws, wriggling in your arms and squirming round to lick your hands.
I had to stop and go away for a few minutes then, too much longing. Pulled together again.
Anyway, they had been born on 17th October, so they'd be old enough to leave their mother in mid-December ... a puppy is for life not just for Christmas? We wanted this puppy too much, we agreed with the children that we'd have a quiet Christmas and give plenty of time to the dog.
It was so tempting to go round every day, but we resisted and visited once a week. They were so adorable. Bridget had a black boy, by the way, who grew up looking like his mother, shaggy. They called him Harvey. Chester had long hair but it was straight and sleek, like a golden retriever or a red setter - in colour, as he grew up, it was mid-way between the two. Sort of orange, actually.
I put the word out among friends. I wanted a mongrel puppy, wasn't too fussy about the parentage, though it had to be good with children. And one day I was invited to a coffee morning by my friend Denise. It was a charity thing - one person invited 8 people, each of them invited 4, they invited 2 and they invited 1, each host paying something, can't remember what, to the designated charity. Bridget and I were the 2 - I simply paid my amount to the charity, I wasn't going to invite a single friend round and ask her to pay for it. Anyway, I told them about my puppy-hunt and Bridget said that the delivery driver who brought their horse feed had said that their bitch had three week old puppies. She was a Bearded Collie, the father was an Irish (Red) Setter. It sounded ideal. Bridget and her husband were interested too, and I asked her to give the driver my number. And the next day, his wife Zoë phoned.
She invited us to see the puppies and we were off within minutes. On the way, I said to the Sage that, if there was a blond boy, that's what I'd like best, but I thought we'd know the one. And he agreed. And Zoë took us in to her back room and there was the mother - crumbs, I can't think of her name ... Finty? No, but I'm not miles out, I'll come back to you on that. Rusty was the father, that I do remember.
There were 8 puppies, 3 blond (all boys) and 5 black (some male, some female). They wanted to keep the biggest blond boy but we had the pick of the rest. I picked him instantly but didn't say and the Sage said the same one. He and his brother were exactly the same except that ours had a faint almost heart-shaped white mark on his head.
Zoë was very welcoming and didn't mind us bringing the children to visit the pups at the weekend. She and her husband had two sons, the elder Ro's age and the other (who was, tragically, killed in a car accident three or four years ago) a couple of years younger. Have you ever handled young puppies? That puppy smell? Oh, it's marvellous. Milk-fed puppies, warm and cuddly, with puppy-breath and soft paws, wriggling in your arms and squirming round to lick your hands.
I had to stop and go away for a few minutes then, too much longing. Pulled together again.
Anyway, they had been born on 17th October, so they'd be old enough to leave their mother in mid-December ... a puppy is for life not just for Christmas? We wanted this puppy too much, we agreed with the children that we'd have a quiet Christmas and give plenty of time to the dog.
It was so tempting to go round every day, but we resisted and visited once a week. They were so adorable. Bridget had a black boy, by the way, who grew up looking like his mother, shaggy. They called him Harvey. Chester had long hair but it was straight and sleek, like a golden retriever or a red setter - in colour, as he grew up, it was mid-way between the two. Sort of orange, actually.
15 comments:
First, again! Chester, I like that nane!
First, again! Chester, I like that name.
He sounds lovely. Our last two dogs were English Setters. As a breed they are brilliant with children, but totally boneheaded.
Red setter and bearded collie sounds an excellent mix. Pics please!
He wasn't boneheaded, but was quite wilful, though sweet-natured. We completely understood each other.
I didn't have a camera, there aren't many pictures. I'll see if I can find something.
I know how much you loved Chester, and how much you still miss him.
But I’m intrigued by the maths of that coffee morning. So one person invites eight, who each invite four, who each invite two, who each invite one …? That makes 160 according to my calculator. Awful lot of coffee!
Oh, love every single one of your dog recollections. Kipper says hello. She just tried to pull off the curtain sheers by their hem. Four months old and she is still very cuddly, with soft paws and very busy teeth. Ahh puppies!!!
Oh Chester sounds gorgeous. And I do agree, puppies are just the most heavenly little bundles.
Just lovely x
Thank you for this memory. I adore puppies. I have never been broody for children but there came a point and I became puppy broody. 2 fat chunky black labs. I love them to pieces.
They were all separate coffee mornings, Tim, we didn't roll up on the same day.
I've been putting off this series of posts because the loss is still as bad as the memories are good. But thank you for the encouragement, all of you.
And welcome, Moonboots and thank you. I've bookmarked your blog ... but if you'd consider turning on an RSS feed then I'll know when you update and be sure of reading every post when it's written!
I knew! Teasing again. And it should be 161, shouldn't it?
So was I, babycakes x
Babies and puppies, so new from God!
Post a Comment