Growing up we had inside dogs. Beautiful little Silky Terriers.
One was an original, Mum and Dad’s pre kids pooch, he died when I was in primary school, earning him a place in the backyard Pet Cemetery smack outside my bedroom window (this room switched occupants between the 3 of us often). His grave was complete with wooden cross and often adorned with whatever flowers we could pinch from the neighbour’s garden.
The next pups to join our lives were a brother and sister pair of silkies. The boy, Joey was our cliché Christmas gift. In a scene clipped out of a golden book we slipped downstairs at our Grandparents house, dressed in our PJ’s still warm from sleep*, to find him all shiny and beautiful in a basket under the Christmas tree surrounded by tinsel and wrapping paper.
His sister Peppy melted the hearts of our parents, being (according to the breeder) unsellable and faulty in many ways. To us though, she was perfect, a lot smaller than her brother, but still a welcome addition to the family.
They were house trained and obedient (most of the time) and had the leisure of coming and going as they pleased through the open back door. Security was never an issue in our home town.
The years passed, Peppy went missing and Joey died after a long life.
Being from a dog family, there’s no way I could not give my girls that experience. We had a bitsa (bit of everything) early in the piece, who traded us in for another family across the street. He was an outside dog who would constantly bark and escape to join his “other” family, and with G1 and brand new G2 he was impossible to tend to. The “aha” moment came when I discovered that his “other” family would lavish him with attention, feed him steak at the table and let him ride shotgun to the stables with them every day.
I would have left me too.
Anyway, we are now the proud owners of 3 dogs that I simply adore and that make my life so much brighter. Our main boy is Duke. He is the same age as G3 and is a mini dachshund with the heart of a lion. He is loved and adored by everyone he meets. (Except the meter man, he hates the meter man. And strangers he really hates strangers. And people he forgets and thinks are strangers. And slow-moving cars. And remote control cars. And rodents of any kind).
His 2 little/big sisters are Bull Arabs, hunting dogs. And they are just beautiful! Their lives revolve around, food, pigs and pats. And when there’s no one around to give them a pat, they have certain trees in the backyard, dubbed “The Tickle Trees”, that they head to and walk around like a super slow motion carousel. It’s hilarious!
Always happy to see you, always up for a chat and hug and a guaranteed remedy to a crappy day. They are most defiantly considered part of the family and much deserved of a place in The Lightning Tree Blog!
*That’s a lie, we would have been awake for hours tearing into our stockings full of fluro blank tapes and undies!