Dogs mean everything to me; they always have.
I adore their loyalty, unconditional love and the way they look like they’re smiling when they hang over the back of the ute looking into the wind.
Today my old dog and ‘first child’, Rex, died and I am crying floods of tears. But I have to be thankful that he just went to sleep and didn’t wake up.
He was born underneath the combine, in the shearing shed and when he was about a week old there was a fierce cold front come through. Bindy, his mum, decided she didn’t like the way the tin shed was rattling and shifted all nine pups… Underneath our house and straight under the floor of our bedroom! For about eight weeks we put up with sniffing, squealing and fighting as only newborn pups can – often waking us in the early hours of the morning with all their noise!
But life moves on. And knowing that Rex and our other dog, Law wouldn’t be around forever, last year we invested in a new pup.
‘Weasel’ is gorgeous and I love him to pieces. He’s quick with a lick, and if you pat him he puts his paw on your arm as if to say ‘I love you too!’ He’s intelligent, although he has yet to learn about sheep work, but when he does, I have no doubt he’ll be as good as Rex was.
“Hey, Rexy! I’ll miss you. Thank you for all your hard work and joy and love you brought us.”
Here’s some photos of our dogs.
This is Rocket. He actually rules the show!
This is Weasel.
Wally by name and Wally by nature, but he is our only working dog at the moment and he is awesome.
And another of Rexy when he was publicity shot model.