LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER FOUR

       A Faithful Friend

      Our pets are sometimes as important to us as the humans in our lives. Be they cats, dogs, birds or hamsters, we love them all to distraction and it is heartbreaking when the day finally arrives when we have to say goodbye. The 17 years I spent with Cara, my faithful German Shepherd dog, will remain some of the most magical times of my life. I remember her with love and affection, though my grief is now somewhat tempered by the passing of time. It was a similar case with Bonnie, our younger German Shepherd, whose time with us was sadly cut short due to illness, although Gwen can still be reduced to tears when reading the wonderful poem ‘Paw on the Stair’ by Patricia Smith. We now have another German Shepherd dog, Penny, and a standard poodle, whom we named Jack in memory of my great friend Jack Flavell, who was legendary in the cricketing world. Although we both adore our two ‘youngsters’, we will never forget Cara and Bonnie.

      We are not, of course, the only people who have suffered the loss of a beloved pet. Unfortunately, because it is part of the spiritual system, there are many, many people who have suffered and who are at this moment suffering deep grief after the passing to the spirit world of their four-legged friends. Some of these people get in touch with me asking whether they will ever meet up with their pets again. Katy was one such person.

      Katy lived in Loughborough. She told me that although she had never intended having a pet, as she lived in rather a small house, the situation was almost thrust upon her.

      One morning as she was going out she noticed that a small gingery nondescript dog was in her front garden. She didn’t take much notice of the animal because she was in quite a rush, but assumed that it was one of the many dogs who were let out on their own to take their morning walk. However, when she returned some hours later, the dog was still there. She put out a bowl of water for it and wondered whether it was lost. It was February, but the weather was particularly mild. Katy decided that she would not bother with the dog but would wait to see whether its owner came along to find it, or indeed whether it would find its way home of its own accord.

      When Katy got up the next morning she looked out of the window to see that the little dog was still in her garden. It was just sitting there watching the world go by. Realizing that the little animal must be hungry and that she had no animal food in her house, she decided that she would give it some cooked meat she had left over from her meal the night before. She placed the meat into a bowl with some brown bread, opened the front door and approached the dog carefully. She was unaware of its temperament and so she was cautious. The little dog shrank away from her. She placed the bowl on the floor and retreated back inside her house. The minute her front door closed, the dog lurched forward and wolfed down the food.

      This scenario was played out several times over the next couple of days. During that time Katy asked around the locality in an attempt to discover whether anybody was missing their pet, but nobody knew anything about the dog. She also placed a notice in the window of her local shop and veterinary surgeon’s in the hope that somebody would see it and come to claim their pet.

      Over the following days the dog came to trust Katy more and allowed her to touch it. The weather took a turn for the worse and she realized that she could not leave it out in the garden. She decided that she would bring it indoors at night but let it out again in the morning. She also decided that it was now time to telephone the RSPCA in an attempt to establish whether anybody was looking for their dog. Nobody responded.

      A week or more went by and a pattern was formed. Katy would bring the dog in at night and then let it out again in the morning as she went to work. Sure enough, when she arrived home each evening the little chap would be sitting on her front doorstep waiting for her.

      It was as she was coming home one evening that she was stopped by a youth. ‘You’re the woman who’s taken in a little ginger dog, aren’t you?’ he stated.

      Katy agreed that she was, hoping that at last somebody had come forward to claim him. However, the youth’s next words froze her with horror: ‘You won’t get anybody coming forward. The man who owned it wanted to get rid of it and tried to strangle it. He used to leave it out in all weathers and kick it too. He won’t want it back because he’s only interested in pedigree Jack Russells now.’

      Katy thanked him for the information. In that instant she decided that the search for the owner of the dog was over: she herself would give him a home.

      From that day on the pattern changed. Instead of being out in the garden during the day, the dog was given a warm bed in the kitchen. He was fed on proper dog food, not just scraps, and bought a shiny new collar and lead. He was also given a name: Hokie. The day that Hokie came to stay changed Katy’s life forever.

      Although Katy’s parents had always owned dogs, she had never herself felt that her busy life and work schedule could accommodate a pet. She realized now that she had been wrong, because Hokie fitted in very well. Whenever she felt down, he was there to make her feel wanted and loved. When she wasn’t at work, he was constantly by her side. Although he was proud to wear his lovely new collar, a lead was unnecessary, because he would follow her around, constantly keeping to her side. He was only small, but he had an enormous heart. It broke Katy’s own heart to know that he had been treated so badly by his previous owner.

      Of course there were times when Hokie was naughty. He had a particular liking of wood and loved to chew. It was unfortunate that the wood he chewed sometimes turned out to be Katy’s skirting boards or chair legs. He was also an adroit thief. If he managed to hop out of the house without Katy knowing, he would invariably return with some booty – perhaps a carton of milk stolen from a neighbour’s doorstep or even a packet of sandwiches filched from the jacket pocket or bag of some unsuspecting workman.

      The years passed by and Hokie became part of Katy’s life. When she got married and moved home, he was first through the door. He had long since given up his cosy bed in the kitchen and was now firmly established at the bottom of Katy’s bed, and this did not change upon her marriage.

      By then Katy and Hokie had been together for about 14 years. Although she had had no idea of his age when he had turned up in her life, she had assumed that he had been around 12 months old at the time. His once vibrant gingery coat was now grizzled and grey, his eyes were becoming opaque and his hearing was not all that it once had been. Nevertheless he enjoyed life and was just as eager to accompany Katy on a walk as ever.

      One day, however, when Katy returned home from work she noticed a change in her old friend. He did not jump up to greet her but lay on his bed in the kitchen with his head on his paws, watching her as she moved around. There was an air about him that Katy felt was different. That evening she took him to the veterinary surgeon, who carried out some tests. A day or two later the results came through and the news was not good: Hokie had a form of cancer from which he would not recover.

      Katy was devastated. She could not even think

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