Cammie

My canine saviour

Photo by Baptist Standaert on Unsplash

You will ALWAYS catch me talking to a dog if it comes within a metre of me. I can’t help myself, I have a strong urge to connect, to show it I have noticed it and appreciate its presence. Most of the time you can see they appreciate the attention too. They smile and wag their tail and ask…have we met before, your body language is different from most people?

I have a long history with dogs, they were in my life as soon as I was brought home from the maternity hospital. It is my mother’s fault (it usually is). She loved dogs more that humans, and taught me from a very early age that:

• dogs were to be given the utmost respect

• dogs could only be trusted when you had made some sort of connection with them

• dogs were to be looked after with all your heart.

Up to the age of five, I can’t remember being too bothered about our family dog, a wire-hair fox terrier. I didn’t like the feel of her greasy, wiry coat, she was old and smelly and only had eyes for my mother, whom she followed everywhere. But then, one day, when I was five year old, I met the love of my life. Her name was Cammie, a seven week old border collie.

Technically, she was my older sister’s dog, but she was too busy doing teenager things to really have much time to spend with her new pet. There was something in Cammie’s eyes from the very first meeting that told me that it was us that were going to be lifelong, best friends. We instantly bonded and would soon become each other’s world.

She wasn’t a very pretty puppy, she was all ears, huge ones in proportion to her face. Some border collies have upright ears and Cammie was one of those. I was always told that it was because she was a Scottish border collie as opposed to her Welsh counterpart whose ears tend to be more folded at the tip. Cammie’s ears were like two triangular wings perched on top of their head, you couldn’t miss her. But as it happens, my bunches at the time were rather odd too, not to mention my fringe so we both accepted each other, just the way we were. And we totally got on, like two collies in a room full of tennis balls.

She didn’t have a very good start to her life either. At six months old, whilst out for a walk, a greyhound grabbed hold of her and shook her with all its worrying might, piercing her bowel in the process. She was rushed to the vet and had to have extensive surgery to repair her body. She recovered slowly, but from that day she hated every dog and vet she came across, baring her teeth in order to protect herself. Her feisty demeanour with things untrustworthy may have rubbed off on me.

When she was about one and I was about six, our lives became a bit chaotic. My sister had some mental health problems which meant all eyes and attention were naturally diverted away from us. That is when the strong bond began to form.

We played for hours in the back yard at every moment we had the chance to be together. We would play “catch the ball”, she was excellent and helped me develop my ball skills no-end. I hid the ball whist locking her in the outside loo. No matter where I hid it, she always found it. She walked beside me with her ball in her mouth whilst I bounced up and down the path on my spacehopper. I would stop and throw it for her and bounce off whilst she fetched it. She would find my tortoises for me, one by one by their name, when they were hiding in the undergrowth. She would sit beside me quietly watching as I played with my dolls in a make believe world we both would have loved to be in. And she always slept on my bed, curling up in the bend of my knees.

Nature connection

Photo by Jacqueline O'Gara on Unsplash

The amount of time we spent outdoors helped me to notice the plants and animals that were in the yard when we were. This was my outdoor classroom that was to stay with me as I grew into adulthood. I would watch the hollyhocks unfold in the tiny patch of earth within raised bricks. They came in beautiful hues of pinks, crimsons and creams. I would observe how the pungent smelling ivy, flowered in globular lime green spikes, contrasting beautifully with the thick, waxy, dark green leaves. I would see the moss and ferns grow and thrive in the dark, damp corner of the yard and I would listen to the birdsong before school as I threw one more ball before I had to leave. I loved being outdoors especially with Cammie by my side. It gave me peace and stability that was lacking elsewhere. Without them both, I think my own mental health would have been compromised.

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She was thirteen when she died, I had slept downstairs with her the night before. Her breathing had become laboured and she didn’t look happy at all. My parents said they would ring the vet whilst I was at my Saturday job. I went to a friends house after my shift and got a phone call there, from them, telling me she had been “put down” (I detest that expression). It was a shock, I wasn’t expecting it. They had made a decision without consulting me, despite me being almost eighteen. I was heartbroken for many reasons. I felt that I had failed her, I wasn’t with her at the end. I will always regret that.

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I have had numerous dogs throughout my life that I will document in due course, because they are all very important to me. But Cammie was such a wonderful friend, so dear to my heart like no other. I will never forget her, she was my true saviour.

I am glad I have been able to share the bond we had with you today. Nature and dogs, have equal importance in my life. The two go hand in hand which is why I cannot resist commenting on a post or a note containing a rose or an Irish Setter. I hope you understand. Maybe my publication should by named:

Nourish and Sparkle through Nature (preferably with a dog at your side).

Things to ponder:

(take care if you feel emotions running high for this one).

Did you have a favourite childhood pet? If so, what made them special?

What memories do you have of them?

What life lessons did you learn from them?