rumpole

rumpole, a photo by Auswomble on Flickr.

Sal has grown up with dogs in the household and for as long as I can remember it was a given that we'd be getting a dog as soon as we had a house with a garden. While in the UK I got chatting to a couple that had an Irish Water Spaniel ("what's up with your poodle's tail?) One thing led to another and we went to see Martyn Ford and his magnificent spaniels and Martyn introduced us to Kathy in Geelong and we put our order in when we got back to Australia. Then we waited for a litter with our fingers crossed. Well, I waited, Sal was not for wafting so we would be getting the IWS if and when we could...but we had a house so we were getting a dog.

We first looked at a rescue dog and were close to buying Bear the Briard. But I think he had a bit of a history and when left alone with just me he got a bit funny. Most of the staff at the shelter were female; when Sal was in with me he was fine. I suspect he was not a fan of men. We let the Briard club know he was there and things probably worked out alright for Bear. But we had no dog.

Then Sal found a cocker spaniel breeder on the Central Coast. I cannot remember the suburb, but the house and breeder were out of the 1950s. The woman had two puppies, a timid little black one and a golden who came straight over to Sal and sealed the deal. We paid, got our dog and a strange brew of foodstuffs that the old woman fed her hounds. In retrospect, even by dog breeder standards, she was a bit odd.

It was Sal's mum who named him Rumpole. He was named after Rumpole of the Bailey, on account of the floppy ears looking somewhat like a judge's wig. I don't remember too much separation anxiety from the little fella but I know he cried a bit when we first had him. I don't remember too much poo and wee in the house. He was a great little thing. He started living with us in the sunroom and soon graduated to the void under the sunroom where he could get straight out onto the garden. And that was his housetraining done.

He was a super cute puppy. I remember a group of girls absolutely swooning over him outside the supermarket and though I should have had a cocker puppy in my early 20s. Once he was bigger and stronger we'd go running together. Often as not I had to push pretty hard to keep up with him. He was never a great one for fetching; he just liked being around people.

He was great with kids. Nieces and nephews, random kids at cafes. And he loved me and Sal. Before we got him we'd agreed that he'd only be allowed in the house when invited and would not be coming up on the sofa. As he was Sal's dog she would be walking him regularly. As it turned out this was interpreted by my good lady wife as Rumpole can come in and sit on your lap on the sofa. And if you feel like dressing him up a bit then that's fine. And don't worry because I'll walk him. I guess that happens a lot.

When we eventually got Rowlf the boys met away from the house. They seemed to get on well enough, though they didn't play much. Rumpole was always more interested in people than other dogs. Luckily Rowlf is an Irish Water Spaniel and is more interested in being mental than anything else. They made a handsome looking duo and although they had their own beds it was not unusual to see the two of them share a bed. It was very cute. It was only as they got older that he seemed to get a bit resentful of the big fella, but I'm not here to dwell upon that. They were like many brothers growing up, not really paying a whole lot of attention to each other but just getting on with it.

I'd walk them pretty much everyday with Alex in a backpack. At the park, when she started running around, she'd get out and terrorise Rumpy. He never seemed to mind being chased around by a screaming kid. Right up until this weekend that was happening, AJ chasing the little fella around the garden or through the house.

He was a great dog. He just made a few bad decisions.

Best stop reading now.

The events of Sunday evening meant the little fella had to leave the household. Sal did her very best for him, but the writing was on the wall. The ultimate decision was not taken lightly. There was consultation with 2 different vets, friends who are in the know, the RSPCA and dog rescue people. She also spoke to the specialist cocker spaniel rescue people. The advice was pretty much unanimous with the cocker people saying we should be glad that we had 5 great years with him and him with us.

That'll have to do.