It’s World Pet Memorial Day today and I’m remembering all the amazing animals that were once a part of my life.
Today, I remember my childhood canine companion, Blackie, who taught me to swim and to protect those you love. When I was just a few years old, I apparently decided to take a walk to visit my grandmother at her furniture store a few blocks away. Friends and family combed the streets searching for me and eventually found me safe near the store accompanied by Blackie, who walked me safely through two traffic lights and didn’t let any strangers near me.
I remember Beauty, my grandmother’s beautiful German Shepherd, who showed me how to have fun. My cousins and I used to set up an agility course in the yard and somehow taught her to jump over obstacles made of chairs and sticks by throwing stones over them. I would tease Beauty with the sway of the stone in hand … ooooone … twoooo …. her eyes would twinkle with delight as she prepared to play the game.
My first horse was Impayable, ‘Impy’ for short. He was a large Thoroughbred who had retired from showjumping and would spend his senior years teaching a little wide-eyed girl how to ride. Impy not only opened my heart to the incredible and addictive world of horses, but also taught me to get back up when you fall – literally. I invented many creative ways to fall of that horse and even surprised my riding instructor.
My horse ‘Lutfu Bey’ had the softest nose and picked up his tail when he got excited. I remember the moment I met him standing in his stall. I had just turned 13 and he was my present. (Thank you mum and dad.) My heart was pounding in my chest from excitement. Lutfu became my best friend throughout high school and taught me that patience, resilience and lots and lots of practice are key to success. He loved to jump and would lunge forward a little when he saw an obstacle, even if we were just passing by. He taught me how to ride well and be a good sport even when you lose. He gave me the courage to jump the highest hurdle I didn’t think I was capable of. Lutfu taught me to believe in myself.
I remember Rex, a limousine of a German Shepherd who adored my younger brother and scared away bullies from the basketball court. Rex taught me a lot about canine behaviour and how to blow bubbles in the water. He had the biggest ears I’ve ever seen on a dog. So big that he used to block the view of the TV screen with them when he wanted to go for a walk. Rex had cancer and sending him to dog heaven was the hardest and kindest thing we could have done. The day he died, I sat outside my 14-year-old brother’s room listening to him mournfully play his guitar like I’ve never heard before. It was then that I understood the true meaning of ‘man’s best friend’.
My family also had a Peach-faced Lovebird named Barnie, who used to hide in his home-made hammock and jump out to scare us. He loved to hang off my pencil when I did homework and stuff pieces of paper (usually nibbled off my homework!) into his feathers, then paraded around like in a fashion show. Once, he escaped out an open window and flew into my Year 6 teacher’s flat a block away. What are the odds?
When I went overseas for university, my husband (fiancé at the time) and I found a worm and mange-infested dog sniffing around the bins at a petrol station. We took the stray home, got him the vet treatment he desperately needed and ended up adopting him. ‘Rolphy’ soon became a popular study buddy with uni friends, as well as the life of the party after exams. He became besties with Tyson the Chihuahua next door. His owner would come home squealing ‘Heeeeey little maaaan’ and Rolphy would bark madly. He had an adventurous spirit and managed to escape a couple of times. Tragically, one night he got hit by a car and died on the way to the vet.
When I came to Australia 17 years ago, we got a Peach-faced Lovebird, named Joe, who thought I was his mate and would threaten my husband with an agitated flap of his wings and an ‘evil eye’ stare. Joe would love to hide under my hair and one day I went out to pick up pizza and realised he was still on my shoulder! Embarrassingly, Joe would also hump my pony tail and we somehow ended up on Dr Harry’s ‘house calls’ segment on Better Homes and Gardens TV show. Dr Harry put a nesting box in Joe’s cage and a baseball cap on my head. I was relieved for these solutions but also mortified for being recognised at the shops as the ‘humping bird lady’ and probably the joke of the BHG Christmas party that year. (The camera guys had a good laugh!)
The animals who left a deep imprint in my heart are my Dobermanns, Logan and Chase, who passed away two months apart. Chase had cardiomyopathy and we knew he lived on borrowed time, but preparing ourselves didn’t make it any easier when he died. Logan was a healthy senior but he became so depressed without his best friend, he barely ate and would howl so hauntingly. One night, he just let go.
Losing Logan and Chase was the worst time of my life and it took a long time to heal. I can finally peacefully cherish the wonderful moments that made our friendship special. When I became a mum for the first time, I would spend long nights nursing my baby with Logan always at my feet. I learned quickly to keep the nappy bin lid shut!
When we came home, Chase was always first to greet us at the back door. His ears would lift like an elephant in a stampede and he would grin at me, showing his front chipped tooth. Sometimes he’d snort from excitement. How lucky I am to have had a friend truly happy to see me, no matter what.
This Pet Memorial Day, I remember my animal friends with love and gratitude.
