There’s No Place Like Home

My Mum, my human sisfur Louise and her dog Miss Shiva went to the SPCA Rehoming Centre in Glasgow because it is time Miss Shiva had a friend as she gets very lonely when Louise goes to work.

Miss Shiva (who was born in a similar place) was very nervous as soon as we arrived and heard all the dogs barking in their little individual cells. To be truthful anipals, I didn’t quite know what to make of it since I have been with Mum and Dad since I was a puppy but I know many other dogs are not so lucky. I did my best to help Miss Shiva be calm and radiated all the pawsitive energies I could, the poor thing kept on spinning and spinning (she does this when she is agitated).

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Mum, Miss Shiva and me at the SPCA centre.

Then the lady brought a dog out. Full Staffy he is and strong as a small-sized horse. He is smaller than Miss Shiva as she is a Staffy/Lab mix. Mum and I stood off to one side so Louise and the SPCA lady could introduce the dogs. They had a bit of a sniffity-sniff and I could tell Miss Shiva was interested although she was still on edge. Then in a flash her sonic tail wag commenced and she was totally happy again. That is one of the very best things about being a dog: we can go from scared to happy in the time it takes to wag a tail.

Louise was stroking Mr Staffy and the lady said his  name was Chaos. I looked at Mum, she looked at Louise who looked at the lady who looked at the dog and although no one said anything we all knew what the others were thinking. This dog had to be the least chaotic dog ever. Playful, bouncy, funny, friendly and glad to get out of his kennel yes – chaotic never. Louise said she would change his name and I was glad about that.

As you all know anipals I am a very small guy so I was a bit nervous meeting Mr Staffy but I walked over wagging my tail and he came over for a sniffity-sniff with me. He was very gentle which made me think he understood about small dogs. Mum gave us all some sausages which are puppy sausages because I am only wee but the Staffies didn’t seem to mind and both Miss Shiva and Mr Staffy chomped them down looking for more.

We haven’t got a picture of Mr Staffy yet as the SPCA lady told Louise there is a home check to be done to make sure everything is in order. I was pleased to know they are careful about who rehomes a dog so even though we wanted to take him with us that day we knew it was for the best.

We think it will be 2 or 3 weeks until Mr Staffy – whose new name is Rocco – will move into his furever home with Louise and Miss Shiva (with frequent visits from me of course!)

The Deev

Miss Shiva looking particularly gorgeous

I cannot finish this bloggy without telling you that I press my paws together every night to pray to DOG for all those anipals in kennels across Scotland, across the UK and across the world. It was so sad to see that many of the dogs we saw were Staffies too; a more loyal breed you won’t find (except for dachshunds but I am a bit biased there!). Mum says people have a whole lot to answer for and I am sure she is right.

If you are wondering why Louise chose the name Rocco it was the name of a noble spirited and gentle Staffy man who went Over The Rainbow Bridge. Although Rocco the First had a hard time on earth and we couldn’t save him, Louise and Miss Shiva have made sure the same won’t happen to Rocco 2.

Till next time.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

 

Rocco

 Rocco the First RIP x

 

 

The Killer

 Dear anipals – the following story was written by my human Papa (in Scotland papa is grandfather) who passed OTRB long before I was born but has had such an influence on the lives of his family and my Mum (his daughter) especially that I understand he is an important part of my doggy life too.

Papa dabbled in short story writing when he was a young man and this is one of the two stories which have survived him. We hope you enjoy it.

Love & leggies, Nutty x

The Killer

They were coming for him.  I could hear their heavy hob-nailed boots crunching on the gravel drive that leads up to the farm.  Yes they were coming and although they hadn’t said so, I knew they were going to kill him.  Going to kill Joe, my friend, and I couldn’t stop them…

Oh yes I had tried, tried to reason, to plead, to threaten the men who were coming for him but they just shook their heads at me and pushed me firmly aside.  ‘We don’t want to hurt you Johnny,’ they said ‘but we’ll have to if you don’t turn him in.’  But even in the face of their threats, I still wouldn’t give Joe away because I felt sure  he would never have given me away if the position had been reversed.

‘Don’t you understand Johnny,’ they said ‘he’s a killer and we know his kind will go on killing and killing.  We know this because we have experienced it before and we will find him, no matter where he is hiding.  We must find him, and find him soon before he kills again.’  They stalked angrily away but confidently sure they would find him without my help.  With them it was just a matter of time.

I first met Joe 3 years ago on a cold winter night.  He was hungry and alone, staggering with exhaustion up the path to the barn where he could at least sleep warm in the straw.  We took him in and fed him.  We looked after him and in a few weeks his strength returned to him, his chest filled out and his face grew more rounded instead of the gaunt, hungry look it once had.  He was powerful was Joe, and he certainly repaid us by the way he worked on the farm.  He didn’t want wages, just his food and his keep and he was happy.  We thought he would just stay for a little while to show his gratitude to us but he stayed for 3 years and in that time had become one of the family and now they were coming for him…

I could hear them turn away from the house and come towards the barn where we were hiding.  It hadn’t taken them long to find him or maybe they had seen me come into the barn – oh what a fool I’d been to come here.  Me who had been too loyal to my friend to give him away and done just that by coming here.  But I had to bring him food so what else can I do?  But it was too late to do anything now.  I had failed him as I am sure he would never have failed me.  As I looked towards him and signed for him to be quiet I whispered ‘Sorry Joe’ but he never uttered a sound.  I saw the big barn doors open and the two big men came in, bigger than me or Joe and they had rifles in their hands.  It took all my willpower not to cry out.

‘Johnny,’ the taller of the two shouted.  I signaled to Joe and we both lay quiet in the straw.  ‘Come on Johnny.  We know you’re in there.’  There was a pause then he said ‘We want to tell you we are sorry.’  I looked down from the top of the bales I was lying on.  ‘Do you really mean that Abe?’ I called ‘you’re not going to shoot Joe now?’

‘No.  We’re not going to shoot him now or ever,’ bit Abe said jerking his thumb at the other man with him ‘Bill caught the killer in the act.  Got him right between the eyes with old Betsy here and that was that.  We just stopped in to say we’re sorry before we head into the village to tell the folks to call off the search.  We saw you come in here with a sack of grub so while we are away get Joe out of that straw up there and both of you bring the sheep from the west meadow into the pens for shearing.  A man can’t do it alone, not without a sheepdog like Joe, especially a little man like you who is only 10 years old eh?’

They laughed as they walked away, the crunching of their boots on gravel faded away.  I felt very happy, not only was Joe safe but I could boast to my friends in the village that one of my big brothers shot the sheep killer.

DCIM100MEDIA

In Loving Memory and of Love Never Forgotten

Alexander McCallum (1934 – 2011)