My Dad and I

While other girls were busy with boys and makeup, my passion for dogs did not seem to be wavering. Since I can remember, I have loved dogs. One of my earliest childhood memories was of watching Border collies do their job at a local fair in a park near my home in Birmingham, England. It seemed enormous, and the sight of the collies herding the sheep seemed to be a miracle. It wasn’t until years later, on a trip back, that I saw that park for what it was…a large plot of grass in an otherwise cement-laden neighborhood. The fact that it seemed so small years later did not take away the magic of that day.

Dogs consumed me, and in fact I do believe it is like a calling. To work with and for dogs has been the only objective in my life. Reading every breed book I could get my hands on would later prove to be the foundation for the rest of my life. The endless tales on the television were watched over and over again. I knew every episode of Lassie and who could forget Big Red, that handsome Irish Setter that captured all our hearts on the Wonderful World of Disney.

The unique thing about my obvious dog addiction was that I did not have a dog as a child. I envy those who tell the stories of the family dog, and how they had dogs all their lives, but that simply was not the case with my family. As new immigrants to a country quite foreign in most things, except language, there was no room in our home for a dog. Living most of my childhood in a small house near a very busy intersection, with parents who worked all day, was not the environment for a dog…so said my parents.

At age thirteen, we moved to the country. Pickering actually. There were no housing developments or malls in the east end at all during that time. It was a town filled with fields, woods and country stores. It was time for a dog.
That is what I thought. My parents still did not relish taking on the responsibility of dog. On the evening of their anniversary, they got dressed up and went out on the town. I was left home to look after my baby sister and we knew what our adventure was to be that night. A local dog, a mix of Husky, German Shepherd and probably Collie, had a litter of pups underneath their porch. In those days, less was known about the benefits of spay and neutering. I had come to love these pudgy little brown pups. They would make the ideal Anniversary present for my parents. After all, they could hardly say no to a gift!

Julie and I went down the road and picked out our pup. The excitement built as we hurried back home with our precious bundle. After settling our pup into a toasty cardboard box lined with towels, we waited for the return of our parents.

As the excitement wore off, I was left with a very uneasy feeling. Upon becoming a bundle of nerves I explained to my eight-year-old sister, that it was up to her to present the Anniversary gift. Time ticked on.

The door opened, and our parents, still in a celebratory mood, came home. Upon being presented with their gift, the expected happened. My mom simply stated that she did not want a pup. With a broken heart, we headed back up the stairs and spent the night with our little charge. As soon as the day broke, I headed back to the wooden porch and placed the little brown pup back with his siblings.

Breakfast was being served when I got back home, and we all took our places. My dad inquired to the wear abouts of the pup and I informed them that he was now back in his original home. As they explained why they did not want a pup, I could only hear the sound of the bacon frying in the pan. My mind was elsewhere. Suddenly I heard my dad saying that although they did not want a pup, perhaps I would like to take care of one.

Time seemed to stand still as the words came out in slow motion. My mind was urging him to finish. In an explosion, I was up and out of my chair, and down that street. My life with dogs had begun. And my life with my dad and dogs had begun.
My life has taken many turns but a few things have always remained constant. My love of dogs, my love of my dad, and his love for being involved in my dog world. His involvement has been from a distance. He was never a dog owner, but loved my world and all it had to offer. He accepted that my dogs were an important and intregal part of my life.

When I decided to go out on my own and open a dog boutique on the Danforth, called Paws For Thought, he spent many days there. First building and painting, and then just being there for coffee and enjoying the fact that his daughter was managing to make a living by following her dream. He was the epitome of the word “proud”.
When I announced that I was selected to be on the Superdog Team, my dad stood on top of the hill while I proudly marched out that first time. He was the one who stood in the back while I presented my first seminar. It was dad who went to Toronto to pick up the first issue of my weekly column in the Metro newspaper, and sent copies back to England. My dad has been my number one fan since I can remember and has been involved every step of the way in my career. Mostly coming to my aid with a set of tools and a can of paint. He had a knack for showing up, Tim Hortons coffee in hand, just as I was running into a problem.

When Who’s Walking Who was born, it was my dad and I who undertook the project, it was my dad who would come and watch the classes, always from a distance. The summer that we spent together designing, building and painting my first set of agility equipment was one of the best summers I can remember. There were no plans or instructions on how to build equipment back then, so there was many pieces that were built, dismantled and built again. The tire was the first piece that seemed to actually look like one we had seen in a book…and to this day it is still my favorite piece.

April of 2002 was the birth of his granddaughter, Janet, and the birth of my first book, Citizen Canine. Both were celebrated, and I have never seen my father look so happy.

So, while dogs were not a major part of my childhood, they have been a major part of my adult life and have enabled me to stay connected with my father for all these years. It gave us a goal, a mission, and gave us time. Precious time to spend together.

When my dad passed away in 2003, my dog friends came to my aid. They knew him as the person who clapped the loudest from the back of the room, and for that, I thank them.

It has been a blessing to live my passion and it has been a blessing to have the opportunity to share so much of it with my dad.

This is for you dad, thanks.