A New Quiet

It is quieter in our house today. No yelping to be let in, greeted the first person up; there’s no tan and white bundle flopped behind the lounge chair as I write this. Instead there’s a new mound in the courtyard where Nutsy rests. A little Cavalier King Charles spaniel, she came into our lives fourteen years ago, slipping and sliding down an embankment into my three year old daughter’s chubby hands. From where she was shown proudly to friends and relatives throughout the day; Look, my puppy! My puppy!She spent her first night in our care sleeping on my brother’s tummy because he couldn’t bear the sound of her crying in the laundry where Mum insisted she go.

Nutsy, named after Blinky Bill’s sister (not Nazi as we sometimes had to assure visitors). Many happy memories. Sprawled,all four limbs akimbo, on the path in the Edinburgh Gardens on her first walk, carried lovingly home. My daughter’s consolation in sadness and sickness. A furry companion for giggling girls on sleep-overs. A constant presence in the house.

Clever dog, quick on the uptake when things were afoot. Keen on comfort, refusing walks on rainy days, slumping in the heat. Keen to join the fun on street party days. Leave the door open and she would be out exploring the street, darting in and out of houses. Leave her indoors overnight and a bedroom door open, and you’d find her on your bed in the morning. Happy to be poked and pulled by little children – never a snarl to frighten them. Fearless, following (or leading) her older half-brother Gem on big adventures on New Years Eve. Once she spent a night in the Fitzroy Police Station after one of these outings, having travelled by motorbike (very pleased to be picked up).

Nick-named briefly (‘cos it didn’t really suit) Killer Nutsy after she demolished,in astonishly short time, a chicken we had been carefully nurturing for a few weeks for friends and who had foolishly escaped her coop. Also the odd pigeon that found itself on our paved garden. Like her brother, didn’t like the ocean on her one and only visit.

Had her share of medical mishaps, most spectacularly, the loss of an eye to a mysterious affliction never seen before by the specialist dog eye vet. It didn’t affect her much, after a day bumping into things she became accustomed to her one- sided line of vision. But visitors ooed and aaed; What happened to her eye?!. Didn’t much like being washed and brushed; but so gorgeous and fluffy after.

Loved Gem, snuggling down together in the little red-roofed kennel. And when he pre-deceased her two years ago was outraged at the suggestion she take over his old food bowl at its place inside the kitchen. Now she lies next to him. Close by but not with us any more.

Things that were a chore will now be a gap in our daily lives; putting her out each night, feeding every morning, cleaning up the yard. We will go to bed and to work feeling vaguely that something has been left undone. We will be unconsciously looking out for her underfoot. We’ve put away the food and water bowls. The kennel will go on the week-end.

As my daughter said, It’s the end of an era.