The Power of the Dog
Rudyard Kipling

I once read that it takes very special people to own a dog. You love your children, you love your spouse, but thats easy because, when you make that decision, you don't expect them to be taken away much before your own life is over. Yes, we know abstractly that it can happen, but that only happens to other people, not us.

But, as the poem puts it, when you decide to give your heart to a dog, you know, even as you do it, that it will, not might, all too soon be taken and torn.

If you're lucky, as a child, your family, or members of it, own a dog which you love. The loss of it does not compare however to the loss of the dog that is yours. You know its yours when you sign the vets unspoken prescripton and as it says, at that point it is very much your own affair.

My heart has been torn seven times now and still I've given it again to an eigth and ninth.

Do I feel special?

Not really. Those who know will understand that if anything we are selfish and the price we pay is small for that unflinching love which cannot lie, that perfect passion and worship.

The wonder of it is not that I loved my dogs but that they loved me.

The first dog in my family was my oldest sister Diane's dog, Cindy. The second was my elder sister Carol's dog, Nikki.At this time I owned a rabbit called Bambi!

Long after Cindy passed my sister Diane went on to own and breed German Shepherd puppies from her first German Shepherd Tally.

My first dog, Kristy, was one of these.

My parents also had one of Kristy's sister's pups, Jenna. In turn, one of her pups was our second dog, Corinna.

After Kristy passed we moved with Corinna to CA, USA. I lost her here.

When we finally bought a house here in the USA the people moving out were emigrating and couldn't take their dog with them. So she became our third dog, Lady.

After Lady passed our fourth dog, adopted from the rescue people, was Rio, who we got as a pup.

Rio welcomed into his house our fifth dog, Xena, who we rescued from the local animal shelter. She was old and sick but we gave her peace and a home for her final months and days.

Rio also welecomed our sixth Rex. Again a rescue from the local animal shelter.

Seventh was Rosie. A backyard litter from a family of one of Andrew's school friends.

Rio, Rex and Rosie were our pack for a few years. Rio passed and for awhile it was just Rex and Rosie until eventually Rex too passed.

Rosie welcomed our Eighth Scooby. Scooby is a German Shepherd/Podenco mix from Andalusia Spain. A long story of neglect by his owners, then rescue by my sister and then a long journey to California via my other sister in England. Mislaid a leg somewhere in that story so my first tripod.

And somewhere in there the Cat Distribution System stepped in and I have a first cat, honorable ninth (she was brought up by dogs and is very dog like), Pepsi.

Rosie has since passed and Scooby is getting old so sooner than we want I guess we'll be a cathouse.