Remembering The Good Walks

This week’s inspiration is from I got to thinking about my previous dog Scamp. He was a cross breed, well mongrel really, with a very German Shepard look. Many people said he looked a little like a wolf. He passed on four years ago, and life was very strange without a dog. So, Titan, our beautiful Shottie, was found. A puppy, as I would be nervous with a grown dog, and he is full of such character. A pain, but I do love him. I wouldn’t get another big dog, but I would go to Battersea, to give a dog a home, as I get older.

Scamp, at his favourite place
Titan as a puppy, with his best friend Luna (Still best buds)

Every day, I sit on the wooden bench, facing the oak trees, my German Shephard, Scamp loved so much. He is still there, rushing around the trees, searching for that elusive black cat.

I remember the day he caught up with it, and the cat just sat there – stood her ground. Scamp twisted his ears like radar, not sure of what to do no he had caught up with his nemesis. He knew his place. At home, two cats bossed him around, and one of them even stole his bed.

It’s difficult to think about him without feeling that sense of . . . I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Happiness, because in the last few months of his life, he was in pain, melancholy because my friend is no longer with me. I miss those walks, our long chats by the river.

He was a good listener; my problems didn’t seem as harsh when he was there. Today, I hope he understands my need for company. Getting a new puppy was the hardest decision I needed to make, so instead I went to Battersea.

Another dog, who is missing an owner, and an owner who is missing their friend. Perhaps there will be solitude for us both. No dog would be a replacement for Scamp. His ashes, in a pine box sit by the television, we won’t ever be parted in that way. But with an abundance of love, we could find solace with each other.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

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