On the 24th of November 2022 we lost our beloved red Patterdale terrier Reggie to a hit and run accident on the lane at the side of our house.just one year old, with all his beautiful life before him, but it wasn’t to be. Yet however much my husband and I – and our other dogs are grieving – and it is hard – we know that beyond that grief lies all the joy of having that wonderful little soul in our lives for the time we did.
He came to us at eight weeks old from a lovely family in Chesterfield who bred Patterdale Terriers. We already had three dogs – Pip, Jack and Billy. The first two are brothers – Patterdale Jack-Russell crosses and beginning to feel their years. Billy, a mature dog but still in his prime needed a companion for playing and romping, so we sought out a puppy to be his friend.
Reggie was one of three pups available to choose from. His mother, Roxy, was a red Patterdale; his father Gus, a black one. Reggie was the only red in the litter and we fell in love with him – especially me. He came home with us a week later and began settling into his new home and brotherhood. At first the other dogs were a bit stand offish and suspicious. Billy got slightly jealous but never to the point of aggression. A bit of grumping was the most of it and Reggie was very soon sharing beds with the older two and before long had won Billy round in his own inimitable way. They all came to love and protect him.
He was super-quick to learn and was toilet trained within days and recognising his name. He came out on family walks from the outset. Although unvaccinated he rode in my husband’s coat so he could peep out at what would be his domain. He was introduced to the vet who, over the next few months fell in love with him too. Everyone he met, came under his spell. He had a sweet, cuddly nature and not a single aggressive bone in his body. The world was his friend and he instinctively knew his manners around older dogs and would submit if he met them on his walks, but respectfully, rather than fawning. Everybody loved him and he loved them back. When he wanted something at home, he would reach out his paw to gently touch you and ask.
He came to relish his walks around the local farmer’s paddock and commenced obedience training, especially heeling. As in all his other lessons he excelled. His only bad habits were a tendency to scoff pigeon and rabbit poo no matter how many times he was told off, and to roll in fox scats. More than once after a walk he ended up in the sink, and twice at the vet’s for stomach upsets.
A favourite self-taught game (in the video clips) was to scoot empty bird feeder half-coconut shells across our brick drive. He loved the sound they made and he found he could slide the coconuts along using his front paws. He adored playing fetch and tug of war with teddies. As he grew stronger he and Billy would romp and play ‘terrier kill’. Each would pretend to murder the other, but take it in strict turns with lots of play bowing. Tug of war was also a favourite game. If Bill allowed Reggie to win, Reggie would always speed off with the tug rope or the lead as fast as he could. He had a weakness for ‘gravy-bones’ and very quickly learned those two words!
Reggie loved to be cuddled, or to lie on his back and have his tummy rubbed and be sung to. ‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine’ was a favourite, and I have to wipe away tears thinking about it now, remembering his relaxed little body and the half-smile on his face as he gently fell asleep.
His coat as he grew up was the most glorious, wonderful thing. He came to us as the colour of a light ginger biscuit and his middle name became ‘Gingi’ after the Gingerbread Man in the Shrek films. But as he grew, so his coat grew and changed with him. He developed a distinct darker marmalade-orange dorsal stripe that began at the top of his head and ran all the way down his body, widening out in the centre. Behind his shoulders he developed two paler triangle ‘angel-wings’ and his tail became mottled with a treacle -coloured dark arrow. His eyes we’re surrounded with dark, almost Egyptian Khol marks. He had a cluster of white fur on his chest that looked not unlike a kite with a trailing stardust string. He was a most beautiful and striking dog, all in proportion, a lithe and muscular powerhouse, already at 10 months old a champion ratter, but also a complete cuddle monster. Now he’s gone and his untimely death has left us heartbroken. And yet, he packed so much happiness and love and exuberance into that single year of life, and gave so much in return, that even while it makes the pain all the keener, the curse of losing him, is balanced by the privilege and utter joy of having known his little soul in the first place. He was our forever dog, and always will be.
Run free but rest too when you have need, our beautiful, beautiful Reggie. My ‘Only Sunshine.’ Our ‘Little Man.’
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Two poems spoke to me about the emotions we are going through at the loss of our beloved little dog. I am not religious, but I believe there is much that we do not know, and that the soul continues. God for me here, stands in for the spiritual, extra dimensional unknown.
Rudyard Kipling’s The Power of the Dog is first. And then an anonymous poem, often adapted that I am going to adapt again myself and titled. ‘I will Lend to you a Pup.’
KIPLING FIRST
THE POWER OF THE DOG BY RUDYARD KIPLING – selected verses
Buy a pup and your money will buy Love unflinching that cannot lie Perfect passion and worship fed By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart for a dog to tear. When the fourteen years which Nature permits Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits, And the vet's unspoken prescription runs To lethal chambers or loaded guns, Then you will find - it's your own affair, - But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear. When the body that lived at your single will, With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!), When the spirit that answered your every mood Is gone - wherever it goes - for good, You will discover how much you care, And will give your heart to a dog to tear! Our loves are not given, but only lent, At compound interest of cent per cent, Though it is not always the case, I believe, That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve; For, when debts are payable, right or wrong, A short-time loan is as bad as a long - So why in - Heaven (before we are there) Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear? I Will Lend you a Dog.
I will lend to you for a while,
a dog, God said,
For you to love him while he lives
and mourn him when he’s dead.
Maybe for twelve or fourteen years,
or maybe two or three
But will you, ’till I call him back,
take care of him for me.
He’ll bring his charms to gladden you
and should his stay be brief,
you’ll always have his memories
as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
since all from earth return
But there are lessons taught below
I want this pup (and you) to learn.
And we agreed with open heart
And said let your will be done
For all the joys this dog will bring,
the risk of grief we’ll run.
We’ll shelter him with tenderness
we’ll love him while we may
And for the happiness we’ve known,
be grateful every day
But should you call him back
much sooner than we’ve planned,
We’ll brave the bitter grief that comes,
and try to understand.
This is Reggie’s lullaby by The Hound and Fox – he loved to have it sung to him.
You are my Sunshine
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