Liberating Louie

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Liberating Louie - book excerpt

Prologue

I dreamt about him again last night…

Just the two of us, happy in each other’s company, strolling along, enjoying the scenic beauty of the Rutland countryside. It was the most perfect, summer day; the sun shone down from a cloudless, azure blue sky, and there was no-one around, just him and me.

We were heading down to a little stream; it was one of our favourite places to go during the summer months. A little rickety bridge offered an alternative path across the stream, but we wouldn’t be using it today – we would paddle across the ford and cool down.

As soon as he spotted it, he dashed off, only stopping when he landed in the stream with a big splash spraying the water everywhere! I joined him in the cool, refreshing water. It was a welcome relief from the heat.

Once on the other side, we stretched out on a little towel. I put my arm around him and pulled him close. I felt my heart swell with love for him. And there we stayed – nothing to do, nowhere to be, I wanted this day to last forever; I felt totally at peace. He lay his head on my lap and closed his eyes. Hearing a noise in the distance, but not wanting to be disturbed, I snuggled against him and tried to ignore it, but it kept on and on. What on earth was that dammed, irritating noise disturbing our bliss? Much as I didn’t want to, I knew I would have to put an end to it.

Reluctantly, I started to open my eyes, and in those few, precious moments before waking, when your dreams and reality feel like one and the same, my world was at peace and happy. That is, until I rolled over, to see Jake’s little casket on my bedside table, and realised, I’d been dreaming again….

THE COLD LIGHT OF DAY

My heart deflated as I realised I wasn’t in the sunshine cuddling Jake, and that dammed, irritating noise was the alarm clock demanding my attention. I guess I should have been grateful that I’d been to sleep, as I’d found it quite difficult in the past few weeks. I reached out to turn off the alarm, and felt the tears welling up once again. I took his casket to bed with me every night - I just needed to feel he was still near. I’m sure I’m not the first person to have done this, it was comforting to know he was right there beside me during those sad, restless nights, when memories deny you a restful sleep. Knowing he was home again helped me through that awful time.

Unable to jump on the bed anymore, Spike was laid on the floor at my side of the bed, his tail beating in rhythm, waiting for his breakfast. His tail no longer wagged at the speed of light, but there was still plenty of wagginess left in it. I leaned over and stroked his huge head. Thinking aloud I whispered, “Oh my lovely old Spikey boy, I know you’re missing him too, how are we going to manage without him?” …

Judging by his response, the only thing Spike seemed to be missing right at that moment was his breakfast. Wearily, I got out of bed, picked up the little casket and went to the stairs. I always walked down in front of Spike these days, as he wasn’t as steady on his paws as he used to be. I popped Jake down next to his photo in the living room and went to get Spike’s breakfast. Never one to let anything come between him and his food, he got stuck in and scoffed the lot before I’d had time to boil the kettle!

I took my cup of tea and two slices of toast (one for me- one for him) into the conservatory and watched him potter about the garden. Much slower these days due to his arthritis, he mooched around checking to see what, if anything, had been in his garden overnight. When he found the right spot, he squatted down for a pee. He’d given up cocking his leg after falling over a few weeks ago! We didn’t laugh (well, only a little bit!)

Old age comes to us all, and it was sad to see that it had caught up with Spike - he was an old man now. At thirteen years of age, his tap staring, water snorting, balloon chasing, stick killing, bath biffing days were behind him, and he was growing old extremely disgracefully and exceptionally stinky! I think he managed to surprise himself with some of the after effects following a good farting session.

Can you imagine if they had Canine Olympics? He wouldn’t do too well at running (he only runs if water or taps are involved) he wouldn’t do too well at obedience either (my delinquent dog doesn’t do obedient)

He’d do pretty well at swimming, but come the Stink-A-thalon, there’d be no competition; a dead cert, he’d win paws down – bronze, silver AND gold! He could produce some absolutely putrid specimens – powerful enough to dissolve the fillings in your teeth! Can you imagine if they did wind surfing!... Get out of here!!

A prize little stinker maybe, but we loved him. With Spike around, we felt a connection to Jake, just as, in earlier years I had felt a connection to my lovely old dad when Mr. Wigs was here.

I called him in for his toast, but he wasn’t quite ready to come in just yet. Watching him wandering around the garden made me realise that one way or another, I was going to have to try and come to terms with losing Jake and go forward; although I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, I knew this little soul would help us.

The comical canine

MOVING ON 2010

Summer was nearing its end, with August having been the coolest on record since 1993! Soon, Mother Nature’s kaleidoscope of dazzling colours would proclaim the arrival of Autumn – time to dig those hot-water bottles out for the chilly nights that lay ahead.

We visited The Burghley Horse Trails once again at the beginning of September. Only couple of weeks after losing Jake, it was inevitable the outing would stir up lots of memories, from the happy times we’d spent there in previous years with him and Spike, but I was prepared to risk it. This visit was kind of official, as it was in Iain’s capacity of a financial advisor, representing the bank he worked for. It involved entertaining clients in the hospitality tent, however, this invitation did not extend to his wife and dog.

Nevertheless, feeling in need of a little pick-me-up, I’d decided to would go along and amuse myself until the hobnobbing and corporate stuff was finished, then we could mooch around and have some lunch. There’s always so many various, delicious cuisines on offer, you’re spoiled for choice!

Spike wasn’t joining us this time. I knew he would have loved the outing, but he just couldn’t walk too well any more. Iain’s parents kindly agreed to have him for the afternoon, so I could go along. We didn’t leave him on his own unless it was absolutely necessary, he even came shopping with us (as long as it wasn’t too hot) and was happy to lie on the back seat and have a snooze – but only after he’d turned on the hazard flashers! Somehow, he could still manage to pour himself into the front of the car to do this but was almost always in the back when we returned. He liked going to visit his grandparents so there wouldn’t be a problem – or so we thought.

With Spike deposited with the Grandparents, we set off for the short drive to Burghley House in Stamford. Once there, Iain went off in search of the huge marquee the bank had erected, and I went for a quick peek at the stalls. As always, there were so many, offering all kinds of unique and unusual wares. I made a mental list of stalls to visit later with Iain, then, after the allotted time, headed off back to meet him by the huge marquee. He was already waiting for me, and I could tell the minute I saw him he had something on his mind.

I was right…

He wouldn’t be able to get away as planned but was hoping not to be too long - clients to smile at, mingling to be done, blah blah blah, so we arranged to meet again thirty minutes later. I knew I would have no trouble at all amusing myself and went back into the crowds.

There are always lots of dogs at the event, but I wasn’t quite prepared to come face to face with a Jake lookalike! Like a magnet, I was over in a flash, squatting down to him with the familiar ‘Hello Staffy!” greeting! This little guy could have been Jake’s twin – even down to the little flash on his chest. He was eleven years old, and his name was Jack!

Can you believe it!?

The poor couple that owned him must have wondered what the hell hit them! I let them have it with both barrels, as they were forced to listen chapter and verse about my Jake (that’ll teach them to talk to strange women!) I was very proud of myself for not crying, but as Jack and his owners walked off into the distance, I could feel the tears welling up. Time to go and find Iain.

I must have been bashing their ears for the whole half hour (never) because Iain was waiting for me (again) when I arrived back at the tent. I told him about meeting Jack, and how much he was like our Jakey boy. Trying to cheer me up, he said I couldn’t go around accosting everybody with a Red Staffy, then, when he realised, I hadn’t actually looked at any of the stalls because I’d been chatting so long, he said the couple were probably over in the first aid tent, being treated for bleeding ears!

What a cheek! He won’t be laughing when the ‘bed with no beer’ card comes out tonight!

He then went on to tell me he’d have to stay longer to entertain his clients, (what a shame!) so perhaps I should go and get myself some lunch, as he would have something from the fancy buffet in the hospitality area. You can imagine how absolutely delighted I was to hear that! Poor lad, having to force himself to dine on up-market canapes, and drink free beer - such a martyr! I hope the bank realised how lucky they were to have an employee who went above and beyond the call of duty! He’d have much rather spent his afternoon being dragged from stall to stall by me!

He’d been offered a lift home too – if I wanted to leave? You bet I did! I certainly had no intention of eating lunch alone So, being the dutiful wife (and through gritted teeth) and a smile that would please any psychopath, I wished him a pleasant afternoon (I so didn’t!) and went to collect Spike.

I called Iain’s dad and told him I was on my way. When I pulled up on the driveway, I could see the outline of a dog through the glass door. Spike was already waiting for me. They must have told him I was coming! When I went inside, his tail, as always started wagging.

“Hello Spikey, are you waiting for me - did you miss me?” I said as I stroked the top of his head.

Iain’s dad told me that unfortunately, Spike had been sat in the same spot since the minute we left. No amount of cajoling or promises of chewies could persuade him to move.