Old man and his pup

The day my dad came to see the pups I knew and hoped

We took Rip, one of Tink’s pups, to my dads on Sunday to start his new life. One man and his dog stood there in that back garden and I must say it was like my dad had become whole again. In that moment I had given my dad back his past and at the same time his future. As a boy he would go hunting with his dog to feed his brothers and sisters, man and dog working together to bring back something for the pot. Dogs have been a big part of his life. We had a gentle golden retriever named Prince that was as regal as his name suggests who got my dad through my brother’s illness and suicide. But it was Rip, a tan and white Jack Russell that my dad named this little fella after.

            Rip was tenacious when needed but mostly laid back and a joy to be with. As a small girl he was my best friend, living in a small village of twenty seven houses he was my only friend. I was the original Billy No Mates by destination, if not personality. He saved me from at least two situations that I will be eternally grateful for.

            The first was a certain attack by a feral Alsatian. I wanted to help the dog, he looked worst for wear and needed a good feed but he didn’t trust me, I could see that. As he slinked his way over, with his ears pricked up and eyes fixed on me, Rip was having none of it and started to growl, as I turned to tell Rip to quieten down the dog lunged forward. Rip caught him and latched on to his gonads and would not let go despite the surprised and big dogs best efforts. With every tactic he used to get Rip off, came a fresh yelp. This continued until they were out of sight. I will never forget the cry of that poor dog as he ran with Rip still latched on, both of them jumping down the road, one in pain and the other trying to hold on for all he was worth. I still am astounded at the sight of it and the way Rip just would not let go even though it must have been painful for him. He could hardly reach the big dog’s soft undercarriage and had to bounce on his back legs to keep up.

            The second time was when I was on my own in the house and there was a knock on the back door. I lived in a line of six council houses in the middle of nowhere. No one I knew came to the back door and at first I thought it was one of my brothers larking about. But there was something in Rips stance that made me wary. I tucked Rip under my arm opened the door ready to give my brothers what for, when I looked to see who it was I stood paralysed to the spot. A strange man stood there. I can’t say why I was afraid of him but I was. The man rambled on about something, while he looked at me and I recoiled from him. Rip never took his eyes off the man’s throat; I could feel every muscle in that little dog tense up. The stare went from me to Rip, who was in prim position to jump on the man. Rip never showed his teeth and I couldn’t say he was snarling but there was a low rumble, deep and menacing. The man asked me quite pleasantly to put the dog down. When I refused he said he would tell my dad about that, with which I replied ‘That’s OK mister I’ll be telling him you called at the back door’. All of a fluster the man left.

            Now I have no idea if the man meant me any harm, we weren’t taking any chances in finding that out but the man never came back. From then on I used Rip as my people barometer and learnt to trust my instincts. I shudder when I look back on that day the possibilities are endless, none of which are pleasant.

            When ever one of our dogs died, our dad would find it hard to get over the loss. We would have to wait years before we had another enter our home. This time it took my dad a decade or more to contemplate it again, with reasons of time constraints a dog can place on you, then of course was his age, he is now seventy seven, was it faire to take on a dog when you are getting on in years. I always told him that that’s exactly when you needed a dog the most. They get you out and about keeping you active. A dog walker could come in, if it ever became a problem or we could get one of those mobility scooters Angus would love that. I would be there if he needed help.

            The pull of this puppy took him back into his past and gave him a positive look to the future, with his granddaughters encouraging him to take it on (poor man didn’t stand a chance once the girls had made up their minds).

        Dad has been thinking about the walks he will be able to take Rip on; there is nothing like daily walks for your emotional and physical constitution and the nature he would see, would mean that my dad would never stops learning, he has an inquisitive mind.  What with training the little dog, showing him off and having the comfort of his company, will keep his spirits youthful and his brain active but most of all the mischief. What the old boy and dog will get up to brings a broad smile on my face and warmth in my heart. My mum (not renowned for being a dog lover) is looking forward to it all too, mostly cuddles on the sofa, just hope he leaves their shirts intact the other Rip had a thing about buttons on shirts.

Wonder what they are up to?

            Will keep you posted.