Lauren is tugging at our hearts this week on Throwback Thursday Memory BlogHop which she and Maggie at, from the cave walls as we remember those best friends of our lives – our pets. Click on the link to read the rules and join in the fun.
Today’s subject: The Pets in My Life.
When I was a little girl I was frightened of dogs. My mum and Dad decided to get me a dog for Christmas. The dog arrived on Christmas Eve after I had gone to bed. Somehow the whole family managed to keep it a secret from me.
As I said the dog arrived at Christmas and Dad being Dad and an Irish Catholic
Steve was a beautiful dog, red fox in colour with a white chest and a couple of socks. He was a Hienz fifty seven, a mixed breed, a mogrel a mutt. The whole family fell head over heels in love with him.
I was the youngest child of a big family ten years between myself and the next girl, eight years between me and the next boy and fourteen years between me and our eldest sister. Steve crossed all the barriers and age differences between us all. Steve was everyone’s best friend, except maybe my next brother who really did not get on with him. Why? well that was a total mystery to us all. Later when my brother had joined the army , Steve always barked at him whenever he came home on leave. It was so strange because Steve was not like that with anyone else.
Steve soon became my best friend, he was such a sweet natured dog. He let me dress him up as a baby and let me push him around in the old pushchair, or used my mum’s net curtains to regale him as a bride. He really was a cutie.
During the week we’d all take Steve for a walk but on a Sunday either a few of us or just me would be accompanied by Dad and we’d go for a long walk around the park. It was a huge park with a fishing lake , a boating lake, a play area, football pitches, tennis courts and much more. There was even a stately home and museum. The house and park originally belonged to the Rothschilds.
Steve loved his walks, he loved his food he would eat anything and everything. My dad always had to get up at 5am to go to work, Steve’s bed was in the kitchen, so he always shared dad’s porridge, infact Steve shared every meal everyone ever ate in that house.
Being a big family in a house splitting at the seams, full of many waifs and strays we always had lots of people round for Christmas and New Year. I don’t know how but there was always plenty of food and drink. One particular year I was given the job of taking people their drinks, my dad was incharge of making the drinks I was just the waitress. As the evening went on Dad noticed we were getting through a lot of drink. An investigation was started the outcome to which was: people were having a sip of their drinks then putting them down and Steve was finishing them off. …. So not only was Steve getting drunk people were drinking out of doggy glasses. . Poor Steve he was rather unwell for quite a few days. Another funny thing I remember is that my Dad , being a union man always called Steve Brother….this always made us all laugh!
I was very bullied at school and if it had not of been for Steve I would of been a very sad and lonely child. Until I met hubby. Steve had lots of adventures, he was an escapologist. He lived a long and happy life loved by us all. He was still alive when my eldest was born. Infact my two older sons still remember him.
We only had the pet when I was a child. Steve has never left my mind or my heart. Since I been married we’ve had five cats, two gerbils and two dogs…. The latest is our beautiful Ruby.
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