My husband and I, sat and watched the movie Marley and Me yesterday.
I had seen it at the movie theatre, on my own, early in the year, when he was in hospital, and I knew he would feel the same things I felt as we watched it.
We had a dog, some years back, who was so much like Marley. His name was Billy. He was a jet black Kelpie cross. From the day we got him, he was trouble.We didn't find him, he found us, he wandered into our yard when he was about 6 months old, obviously a stray. He was with us, for the next 15 years.
We had six foot high paling fences around our back yard and a 6ft high side gate, but oh no, that didn't keep him in. Eventually, that six foot fence, had another two feet of barbed wired installed on top of it, and the side gate had a slab of concrete under it, so he could not dig under it any more. NO....that didn't keep him in either, he had scars all over his belly from where he used to climb over the barbed wire to get out.We eventually took it down.
We both worked at the time, and the kids were going to school. Billy often turned up at my son Adam's school, but he also must have had many other friends in the neighbourhood. We were at the supermarket one day, and a complete stranger stopped us, and said, "you must be Billy's mother and father".....apparently they lived a few streets from us, and Billy was a regular visitor.
We eventually moved to a new area only 5 miles from our previous place, but my son stayed at the same school. Now he had to get a bus to the school. He would leave Billy at home, and get the bus, but by the time he got to school, Billy was there waiting for him. He had a short cut to get there.
We bought a fruit shop, in the town centre another 5 miles from home (different direction to the school), and made the mistake of taking Billy down there one time, from then on, he would turn up there at any time of the day, lie accross the front door of the shop, so people had to step over him to get in the shop. Everyone knew him, everyone loved him.
There was a cab rank near our shop, and the cab drivers got to know him. Several times, over the years, when Billy went walkabout, and we couldn't find him, we would ring the cabbies, to keep an eye out for him, and many times Billy was brought home in a cab. We found him one time at a gas station miles from where we lived, and found out from the owner, that Billy used to visit there often, and would get fed a meat pie, before he was on his way again.
Over the years, we sold the fruit shop, but we learned that he still made regular visits there. There was a train station up the road from where we lived, and the next stop from us, was over the road from the fruit shop. We were infomed by the station master near the shop, that he had often seen Billy alight from the train, and then head over to the shop.
Billy was just one of those dogs that needed to be out all day. The thing was, that most of the time, he was there at home when we left for work, and sitting there on the doorstep when we got home, but we will never know exactly all the places he went to, nor all the friends he made.
Oh, he got hit by a car one time, and he got through that,after 14 days in the vet hospital, and he was attacked by another dog one time, and got through that. He chewed the pool liner, he chewed clothes on the line, he dug holes under the fence, he chewed through an electric chord one time, he left scratch marks on the doors, he even ate the inside of the laundry door one time, when he was locked in there accidently, he loved to raid garbage bins...oh I can still picture many times, driving down the street on garbage morning, and seeing all the bins knocked over and rubbish everywhere. (that was when we still had those small rubbish bins). I knew Billy was probably responsible.
Oh the dog catcher tried to get him quite a few times, but only once do I recall, having to bail him out of the pound. The dog catcher called to our home one time, and Billy was sitting there with us, as innocent as the driven snow, and the dog catcher said, "he's too clever for me".....
We had never heard of him biting or hurting anyone ever. He had a gentle nature, without a mean bone in his body..........oh, I forgot.....the postman.....well, Billy did used to run out at him and try to bite the tyres on his motor scooter, until eventually, we stopped getting our mail delivered, and had to pick it up at the post office. But he was the only one I knew, that Billy didn't like.
Now, it may seem irresponsible that he was allowed to roam the streets, but it was impossible to contain him, the only way we could have, was to chain him up, which i would never do. Also, the area we lived, was not your usual suburban area, we were in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, and most of the houses backed onto bushland, and so did not have back fences. Billy obviously knew all the tracks in the bush, to get from one street to another, and we spent a lot of time with him and the kids going on bush walks.
He slept on Adam's bed every night, so we knew he was not out wandering in the dark. On weekends he was happy to stay home with us, and used to love coming to the kids soccer games, where he would again, be greeted by everyone there.
Anyway, when the time came, we kept putting it off. He was over 15 and had a stroke, and altough he surivived, his back legs were useless. For a week, my hubby, carried him down to the back yard so he could do his business, until finally we knew, we had to let him go. The kids were now adults, both married by then, we called them, and told them we had called the vet, and he was coming to the house. We all gathered, we all cried, we all gave him our hugs and we talked to him and thanked him for being our friend.And like John Grogan, we told him to forget what we used to say about him being a "bad dog"....he was the BEST dog, the best dog ever. It was one of the worst days I can remember.
We buried him in the back yard. About 18 months later, we moved to a property. It was decided that Billy would come with us. Adam removed him from his grave, and the first thing we did when we arrived at the property was to make another grave for him, where he still lies. He would have loved it there, hills, and creeks, and plenty of space. But as any animal lover knows, it doesn't really matter where he is buried, he is in our heart, will be forever, in our memories, oh so so many of them, and we know how fortunate we were that he chose us, to share his life with.
And, when we have looked back at when he first strayed into our yard, we have often thought, that maybe he was just visiting us, like he obviously was in the habit of doing. Maybe we were just another stop on his travels that day, maybe thats why he tried so hard to get out of the yard. We will never know. We claimed him. He was our Billy.
Topic: Animals In Our Lives (Read 1103852 times)