The dog has left a legacy at least. I still can’t leave my bedroom of a night time without being cautious of where I tread.
Once his sight went he had a terrible habit of falling asleep in walkways, and on more than one occasion I stepped on him laying in front of my bedroom door. He also started leaving puddles toward the end, which is ultimately why we had to get rid of him. I’ll never forget the awful realisation in the middle of the night that your socks are soaked with dog piss.
It wasn’t always bad though. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way he would dance around when I came home from work; he was a giddy fool and would often trip over himself in his excitement.
He loved cuddles too, and would sneak up to an outstretched leg and sit under your foot hoping for a scratch. If you stopped, he’d beg with this stupid waving gesture using his front legs. I’ve no idea where he got that from, but it was the cutest thing you ever saw, and was pretty pretty good at getting attention.
I was in grade 4 when we got him. One day Mum picked me up from school in the horrible green Mazda, and there was an excitable little dog in the car with her. When we got him home we found out he also had an excitable penchant for running away. Many-an afternoon I spent chasing him when he got out of the house, or was accidentally let off his chain. It wasn’t until much later and we’d trained him that he became less of a pest.
He was a really well travelled dog, and we shared numerous car trips down to New South Wales to visit family when I was younger. He loved having the windows down, and if I understand correctly, he actually once fell out of the car window while Dad was taking him to the shops. Saved by the lead, I guess.
He even went to live in Singapore with my parents for a while, and only came back a couple of years ago when they did. I don’t think the heat treated his host of undiagnosed allergies any good, so I guess he was pleased to come back to Australia.
He was a good friend and I pretty much grew up with him, so it was really painful to have to have him put down. He had a good life though, and we loved him to bits, so I try to justify it that it was his time — long overdue by dog years even, so there. He’s buried out in the front garden in his cane doggy basket, which I think is really sweet and also a good way to get rid of an old basket.
Simon Pascal Klein
Tate Johnson