This is an obituary dog-blog so if you are not a dog-lover or think that someone wittering on about their dog when obviously your own dog is the epitome of dogs, or you think such a things sentimental nonsense then feel free to walk away- indeed I encourage you to.
It is mostly for me and Best Beloved and few friends anyway, so don’t feel too bad.
The Best Beloved fell hook, line and sinker in love with Jessie when we went to collect her and he sat on the back seat cradling her 12 week-old self on his chest. You could see cartoon hearts coming out of him. She was asleep… just saying.
She took it as her right to be loved and acknowledged our return after a holiday of say two weeks, with a waft of the tail – no embarrassing hysterical greetings, just an ‘OK everyone let’s get back to normal now.’
When she went through her badly-behaved-youth period she would come back from a walk with the BB and find her own naughty step until he caved in and forgave her the panic of finding her disappeared…..
She loved carrots, potato peelings, chicken casserole leftovers especially, having a bouncing game on the bed in the morning, any builders anywhere since we had building work when she was small and she then associated builders with ham sandwiches- likewise any resting walkers who might be concealing a ham sandwich in their rucksack as we did.
Having me and one of the builders chase her around the garden after she evaded us to paddle in not-yet-set concrete…
Rolling in soft sand or snow
Mud
Being picked over after collecting an unnecessary number of bits and pieces of the countryside – and allowing/demanding the BB picked them all out and letting her eat the tasty seeds.
She liked the garden especially at night or sunbathing – getting her to come out of either was hard work.
Just about tolerating being bathed especially by my Fave Niece who would do it on a daily basis on visits in her younger days in between creating a spreadsheet of what was in my freezer – that is the niece, Jess was smart but not a great one for spreadsheet writing.
She did have a sense of her own matriarch role – this is not Jessie being welcoming or even affectionate, this is Jess reminding her visiting neighbour who was top dog in our house…
Couches, preferably but not essentially, with added humans, and blankets
Talking of couches, we found out quite by accident at a Tescos checkout that she had been moonlighting as an ad-dog with Roman Abranovitch of all people……
She was wily-clever, she had her favourite people and we tried to rank somewhere within that small group (though often failed), she made us laugh most days, she would stand at a path crossroads until you gave in and went the way she fancied that day, she never went down into the cellar on the basis there be dragons, she had thousands of treats from Pete the Postie who said she was his favourite dog on his round (but he might have been saying that all over the village), she helped herself to neighbours when she was bored at home, she chased deer even though at her size, they only had to change from first to second gear to leave her in a panting heap, she quietly stole a dainty canapé from a Vice-Admiral’s hand without him immediately noticing (though just the once), she did polite but not that gracious with visiting dogs but assumed their houses/beds/people were entirely open to her, she never saw the point of retrieving a ball, and could do a lot with facial expressions especially reproach.
There was one day when we went to visit Tewkesbury Abbey which didn’t allow dogs in so we tied her up outside on a cloudy but dry day.
Inside we had no idea there had been a short but sharp shower.
When we got outside we found her asking in quite a meaningful way to be adopted by the couple who had found her and were about to call the RSPCA.
Like everyone’s dog, she was one in a million.
thereluctanthousewife 