A true friend
by planetparker
My dear friend Stan
You’ve no doubt heard the joke. At last year’s north of England Sheepdog trials how many sheepdogs were found guilty?
Maybe you’ve heard about the hotelier in the West of Ireland who received a letter from a British visitor who had stayed in his hotel, appraising him of his intention of coming the following summer and asking whether he could bring his dog.
The hotelier responded:
“Many thanks for your letter. Now with respect to your enquiry about your dog let me state that I no dog has ever set the bed-clothes alight while smoking. Furthermore, no dog has ever tried to pass off a dud cheque on me. In addition no dog has ever tried to “get fresh” with any of my waitresses, and I have never had to call the gardai to eject a drunk and disorderly dog at four in the morning. In conclusion therefore your dog is most certainly welcome at my hotel – if he can vouch for you.”
I’d like to talk about my dog. My dog is called Stan. He is a very good dog. I like my dog very much … apologies for adopting the style of a seven-year old.
I’ve long had a preference for animals over humans. With animals like dogs you always know where you stand. They don’t have sides. They either like you or they don’t. There’s no bullshit.
Stan actually belonged to my partner Rosie before she came over to live with me in 2006. I had “spoken” with Stan on the telephone; he communicates in low growls. However, I had no idea how he would take to me. I was afraid that he might see me as a competitor for Rosie’s affections. I will never forget the evening of his arrival. It was heralded by a strong push of the open front door followed by a loud bark. He befriended me immediately and totally.
When I lived in a two-storey house in Belturbet, Stan would run on ahead of me when he saw me approaching the stairs to go down, so as to appraise Rosie of my plans and then he would stand at the bottom of the stairs until I got down. On numerous occasions he has been saddled to my wheel-chair and has delighted in pulling it, accompanied by husky-like whelps.
He knows when I am feeling depressed, and places his snout upon my knee. I trust him completely, for I know that were I to be in any danger he would defend me instinctively.
These musings about Stan have been inspired by President Obama’s acquisition of a dog for the White House. I also feel defensive of our dogs. The Gardai siochana have warned residents of rural areas to be on their guard against burglars. I know no better defence against the opportunistic thief than the barking of a dog who may very well be the most docile mutt in the world but who often will cause a thief to think twice about entering a property uninvited so as to avoid being mauled.
