I met Puck, Lucie's Jack Russell, at the same time as I met Lucie and her daughter Sophie. He and I appeared to bond with each other immediately. I was flattered and surprised that, as pack leader, he appeared to welcome the arrival of another male on his patch. I was not to know then, quite how much effect he was to have on us for the next eight years of his life.
Sadly, but inevitably, at the good age of fifteen, he was to die in our arms after a year long battle with cancer. Even then, awash with our shameless tears, Puck had the last word and as the deadly needle went into his front paw he took his last lunge at the kind vet who was trying to relieve his suffering. Puck died mercifully, seconds later. We buried him, wrapped in his favourite shawl, under the old apple tree at our house in Charsfield, Suffolk.
Maybe, somewhere out there, perhaps in cyber-space (who knows?) Puck still lives, as does his memory with those who knew him. Happily, his story goes on because, at the age of thirteen, by lucky chance, we met a possible mate for him, a Yorkshire lass of the same breed and he managed to sire a litter of four some months later. This is just part of his story related below in greater detail.
We had the choice of the litter. We chose his first born and named him "Spud" and sometimes I call him "Buddy". He now lives with us on our barge "Body and Soul" and although quite different in character and looks, is a constant reminder of his father with whom he lived for the first two years of his life. At the time of writing he is seven years old. (ed. April 2007)
So wherever you are Puck and I am sure you will have all the gear - including broadband - you will be able to visit this blog on www.tillersandtastebuds.typepad.com and see photos about our lives both now and in the past. It is the only sure way to keep in touch and to show others how much you meant to us and the joy you brought.
The Arrival of Theodore (Teddy for short)
So Spud was alone for the first time in his life. He watched as we buried Puck's stiff carcass under the gnarled old tree in Charsfield and when that evening I realized he was missing, I found him sitting, quietly still, with his back to the front wall of the house, facing Puck's grave and about ten feet from it. He stayed there like that for what seemed like ten minutes until I picked him up and took him inside. We were not the only ones who were sad.
Already a secret plot was being hatched by Sophie and Steven in London, to replace Puck with another playmate for Spud. The idea was to get one for Lucie's birthday on the 24th June. I was part of this plot and was required to ensure that Lucie was where she should be for the gift to be given.
The day came and Sophie and Steven duly arrived. Sophie got out of her car with the large leather handbag which she had promised her mother. We all went indoors for drinks.
"You'd better open this now, Mum" Sophie said, and to the delight of all watching - a couple of neighbours had joined in - out popped Theodore (Teddy, for short) from the bag, blinking in the sudden light. Then eight weeks old, Teddy is a pedigree Norwich Terrier with golden/brown, long, but quite soft coat and pricked up ears. He is squat and square and not at all athletic. He has very expressive brown eyes with an unusual ability to show the white bits which give him some great facial expressions. He was destined to grow to around 6-8 kgs and therefore a similar size to Spud.
He showed immediate interest in Spud and used his outsized front paw to bat his new step brother's nose. Spud, although taken aback by this apparent impertinence soon became sanguine and more friendly. The two soon became inseparable as Spud experienced leadership for the first time. We read up all the Kennel Club details, advice and pedigree papers. Teddy was sired by Baron Biscuit, a Cruft's breed winner. He was indeed a very expensive and generous present. We immediately named him "Teddy" simply because he looked exactly like the one you imagine in a toy shop window. They were to sleep together on our bed that first night.
A small party followed after his arrival when we toasted Teddy and poor Puck and I remember playing the "birthday" song on the piano very slowly - that was the melody which always started Puck singing, only this time there were many tears shed including my own. (see above photo of him doing this in earlier times) I think that moment was the most poignant moment ever to be imagined and one for which I was not prepared.
Teddy now loves the barge life too and is a great sailor.