Kath emailed me to say that she had come to
Fiddlesnips! via a mutual blogger
and was taken by how much our darling Rosie Mae looked like her dear dogs, Roobarb and Ellie.
I had to go and have a look, of course,
and WOW, they are very alike.
Kath's dogs are Bedlington Whippet Lurchers,
whereas darling Rosie
is not quite so posh and is just a Lurcher crossed with,
the vet suspected, something like a Collie.
I thought this was a good time to tell my sweet girl's story.
If you're not a dog lover then I suggest you move on now,
because this has LOTS of dog photos!
We were heartbroken when we lost our last dog, Pepper Daisy, to leukemia at what we considered to be a premature age (about 10 years old). To this day I am convinced that Pepper Daisy got this dreadful cancer as a direct result of being attacked by another dog when she was out with Grant for a run. Pepper had not provoked the attack and we subsequently heard that the owner of the attacking dog was bragging about it in the local pub. Nice.
We really didn't think that we could cope with another dog. Luke was 2 years old and I was pregnant with Hope so we lavished our love on the children and our rescue cat, Susie (not the Susie we have now. We are destined to always have cats called Susie!).
By the time Hope was 18 months old we felt the time
was right to bring a dog into our family.
We talked about it with the children.
"I want a dog,"
said 3 year old Luke.
"and she must be called Rosie."
Very specific requirements, and I fluffed and waffled
about seeing what was there.
Down we all went to the local animal rescue centre.
We were confronted with so many dogs,
all desperately wanting a home.
Most of them were too BIG,
many of them were snarling,
and lots could not be homed with children or other animals.
And then there was Rosie, not too big, not too small.
(Tick the box)
She was actually called Rosie.
(Tick the box)
She could be homed with cats and children.
(Tick the box)
She was sitting quietly and patiently waiting for us.
(Unlike her mad kennel companion who was throwing itself round the enclosure like a soul demented).
We asked for more information on her.
She had been on 'Death Row'
in a dog pound in Wales
before being brought back to Kent
by the lady who runs the rescue centre.
Rosie was initially rehomed to a lady
who lived in a high rise flat.
Rosie (now renamed Scarper)
had eaten all this lady's furniture and
was promptly returned to the animal centre
(she reverted to being called Rosie).
She was now about 18 months old.
She went for a 'test walk' with Grant.
It was love at first walk!
Once our house had been checked
and we had been vetted,
Rosie came home with us.
She soon settled in.
She loved this bench in the kitchen (although the cushions were later shredded by her).
She also ate her way through a 3 piece suite when we went out for a couple of hours.
It took her a while to understand that we would always come back to her.
Susie the cat wasn't too sure, and in fact had to let Rosie know quite clearly who was Boss
(cats have claws for a reason!).
But they developed a relationship, of sorts
(at least they shared a bench!).
Rosie and Hope have grown up together,
looking after each other.
Both the children can't remember a time
when we haven't had Rosie in our lives.
She's never far away from food!
Rosie Mae (we added 'Mae' when she came to us)
is now about 14 1/2 years old.
She is a loyal friend.
Quiet, so quiet (she only barks when she's getting excited to go out or playing in the garden)
and a constant shadow at our feet.
She has some totally disgusting habits (most of which involve poo) which we have been unable to shake off. The vet said she picked up these ways when she was traumatized in her early life.
As a result, however, she has the constitution of an ox and has never had to go to the vets for anything other than her yearly booster and once she had a sore ear.
She hunts for hedgehogs in the garden
(but they are too clever for her).
and she and 'new' Susie the cat have a kind of friendship too.
Can you see Susie keeping a watchful eye in this photograph?!
Now she is deaf, partially sighted, and quite elderly, Rosie spends a lot of the time sleeping,
dreaming of chasing bunnies
(she's caught a few in her time).
But she always has one eye on us.
Rosie Mae really is the best dog in the world.
What's the story of your dog or cat?
Go on, write a post we'd love to read all about it.