Thomas the Tiny Terrorist

While we were moored up at Oozells Street in Birmingham. I heard a shrill and angry voice wafting across the waterway. 'Thomas, will you come away from the edge, you will fall in the water' implored the voice. Looking out of the window, I can see Thomas is aged about 6 years with his mother trailing some yards behind. The pair were walking along the off side towpath heading into the centre. Thomas is slowly veering towards the edge and then veering away. Each time Thomas goes towards the edge, the voice is calling out to him.  

Suddenly Thomas turns around and starts walking backwards. With a defiant look upon his face, he starts veering to and from the edge. The voice continues to implore him to behave and to look where he is going. Thomas is one of those challenging little bastards, the one that a good old fashioned smack would go some way towards helping him to 'adjust' his somewhat wayward nature.

Suddenly, while still walking backwards, Thomas veered and missed his footing and he went into the canal arse first. His long suffering mother was there in an instant and had him by the scruff of the neck. She hoisted him out in one swoop. His legs did not touch the towpath before a couple of good smacks were suitably planted on them. Thomas was now making all the noise.

However, this time they were retracing their steps back along the towpath. Mother was not best pleased and just as Thomas was about to throw a tantrum as he folded his arms and screwed up his face. There came a well placed kick to the tiny terrorists arse, It was without a doubt one of the best I have ever seen. It was a thing of beauty. it was administered with all the finesse of  a master in arse kicking.  It also helped Thomas to resume his walk along the towpath.

I wanted to cheer and jeer at the little shit, but I did not want to spoil the mothers moment, f reward which I understand is known as karma.

Its been a year.

It's almost a year since we lost our old dog. If you are not a dog person you will not understand. If you are a dog person you will know of the joys of having a loyal friend who is just happy to be with you.  Not a day goes by without some comment or reference to Abbey being made, she had that sort of impression upon us.

Abbey who was deaf and at best only partially sighted had an undiminished sense of smell, she could detect a chocolate being unwrapped at fifty paces. The skills in her nose was allied with an indomitable spirit. She had been ill a month previously and we moored our boat as close to the vet as we possibly could. 

However, with the same dogged and indomitable spirit, she recovered well, but being an old dog, illness had taken its toll. She continued to enjoy more good walks where we would leave her to follow her nose and like dutiful staff we would just follow on behind her. If she got tired I would gently carry her back home across my shoulders.  Which she quite enjoyed, she also enjoyed the odd trip out sitting inside the two wheeled shopping trolley!

However, a short while later she suddenly appeared to be unwell again and gave the impression of being quite frail. So another trip to the Vets who once again provided sterling service. In a consultation and various test that took about half an hour to conduct. It was thought that she had suffered a stroke. Medication and advice was given to us and for a couple of days she seemed to gradually improve again and appeared as stalwart as ever. She would only pee and poo outside, even when we had to help her to her to get to her feet.

I want to put on record the wonderful service and treatment provided by Glenthorne vets located in Burton upon Trent and Uttoxeter.

As was her habit she waited a month until another Sunday morning arrived. This time she had gone down hill once again. We were soon on our way to Glenthorne but this time in Uttoxeter. It was a heartbreaking moment for us, but it was the last kindness that we could do for our old companion. Abbey was put to sleep and we held her for our final moments together. We asked for her remains to be cremated and her ashes to be put in a casket so that she can continue her travels with us on the boat. Which she does from a position next to the boat stove, which was her favourite spot whether the fire was lit or not.

On our way back to the boat with our hearts full of sadness we saw the most amazing deep crimson sunset. There is an old story about the rainbow bridge and our pets waiting at the other side for us to arrive. I don't know that I believe in such stories. But I do know that Abbey left in a blaze of glory and left an Abbey sized hole in our hearts.

You can read a bit more about her Here.