My grandparents owned a dog and I missed it when we moved away. My favourite song as a toddler was ‘How Much Is That Doggy In The Window’ and I would sing it constantly, at the top of my voice in the hope that somebody would realise that I did really want a dog. It was many years later that my wish was to be granted and although I didn’t actually become a dog owner, it was the next best thing. For four years from the age of 10, Bess was my very best friend. She was loyal, constant and gave a lonely child a sense of purpose, even courage because to her I was someone special. As far as creatures go, Bess was the most beautiful Alsatian dog that I have ever seen both then and now and my only sadness is that I do not have a picture of her. She had big black intelligent eyes, black and tan markings on her face and back, tan coloured legs and a sable chest. She was perfect.
She first came into my life when John, her owner, went away to teacher training college and left Bess with his parents to look after. They lived over the road to us and I can remember taking a message to the house, only to be stopped at the back gate by a huge barking dog I’d never seen before. Mrs D came out and reassured me that she wouldn’t bite so I entered the yard and delivered my message.
As I was leaving Bess dropped a ball at my feet, so I threw it a couple of yards only to have it deposited back at my feet before I had reached the gate. This went on for a while and Mrs D said that she wanted to play and from nowhere I asked if I could take Bess for a walk. I didn’t expect Mrs D to say yes, just as she didn’t believe that Bess would actually go with me. But I took the lead and suddenly we were both racing up the hill to the park. It was Saturday morning; the sun was shining, and I was in heaven. I would throw a stick; Bess would return it until we found a bigger and better one and we ran like this for what seemed like miles; child and dog in harmony all the way to the top of Falsgrave park and out across the reservoir. She didn’t run off and I marvelled that she came as soon as I called; and by the time we were ready for home she walked faithfully by my side. Mrs D was delighted at her good fortune as Bess was a healthy dog used to good long walks, and she had just found the perfect volunteer walker.
After that I couldn’t wait to get home from school to take Bess for her walk, and the summer holidays flew by. We walked for miles, in all weathers and I feared nothing with her by my side. In the autumn I went up to Secondary School and soon teamed up with Chris who had recently moved to Scarborough. I soon discovered that Chris lived just over the hill from me and I would call on her after tea. She had a black Labrador called Heather and much to our delight the dogs were happy to be out walking together.
It could be said that homework suffered a bit because of these walks but we both felt that the dogs had priority. And we really did walk for miles. Down to the sea front, up onto the Esplanade along to Holbeck Hall, down to the Spa and then a race across the beach depending on the tide. Our final stop would be a café near the bus station for a drink. We both had a crush on the boy who served us, so it wasn’t altogether innocent. Then home with two exhausted dogs. We often met other dog walkers who would stop and chat, or people who just wanted to stroke Bess and Heather. They both loved the attention. But one day we came across two older ladies whilst we were walking up West street. They crossed over the road as we approached them, and I was amazed at how abusive they were. They told us off for having two vicious creatures out on the streets without their leads on. We were amazed by their reactions. Not only were both dogs well behaved, but they were walking close to heel and had made no attempt to go near the ladies. It upset us but we knew that some people had a fear of dogs and we hurried on with our walk. I had not been able to take Bess out for a few nights, so I was impatient to go and collect her for a walk after school. It was my fourteenth birthday and we had been out on a school trip. It had been a perfect summers day. But Bess did not come to the back gate when I arrived, and I was puzzled not to hear her bark. But I knew when I saw Mrs D that something was wrong. By that time Bess was 12 and an old dog. Her muzzle had gone grey and she was slowing down. One hot, sticky day with thunder in the air she had snapped at a refuse collector and badly bitten his leg. The man had to go to hospital and Mrs D was advised that the dog was regarded as a vicious animal. She had the choice of facing a fine or having Bess put down. I can’t tell you how I cried. Nothing would replace Bess and for many years I missed those wonderful walks with my very best friend.
But that can’t be the end of Bess’s story, it’s too sad and I have so many happy memories. Her friendship and unquestioning devotion taught me that love and kindness is all around us, in the most unexpected places. And most of all, to value what we have, no matter how fleeting.
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