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Ashley Robinson: farewell the old dog who got under my skin

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My Facebook friends would have a fair idea what I would be writing about this week – my little dog Barklay passing away.

Yes, very sad and yes, leaving a massive whole in my heart. But I have a lot to be thankful for.

Growing up on a farm I always had a dog that I loved, but when we left the farm we had to leave my dog George behind.

Well, he wasn’t actually my dog, he was the neighbour’s dog who adopted me and because they bought our farm, Dad decided the dog should stay, which I totally disagreed with and the day we drove off it broke my heart.

I never had a dog for years after that until I met old mate and we always have had at least one dog.

We started with a bullterrier or two, then staffies, then a bull terrier dingo cross, then a Cairn terrier and finally a toy poodle.

Wow, talk about transition.

The day old mate came home with the little rescue dog, I thought – what have you done to me?

Like the day I was carrying him across the carpark like a handbag and a big tattooed V8 ute driver pulled up in front of me and said, “You look like a pansy with that dog”.

I thought, here we go. The guy lent over in his car to pick up something while I tried to figure out a response and he held up a fluffy little white dog, started laughing and said, “I got one too,” as he drove off.

Ashely Robinson’s toy poodle Barklay loved his daily routines.

I loved every dog I have had but I must say this little bloke got right under my skin. He was all for routine, morning walk then breakfast, and nightly walk and dinner religiously by the clock.

If he saw me making a cup of tea, he knew I was heading for the lounge in the garage where he could have nap while I read my book.

Even when he got crook, he still had that internal clock ticking to exactly the routine he was used to over the last decade.

He is resting peacefully now and I hope he meets George and the rest of the crew in doggy heaven.

Thank you to Henry and crew at the Natural Vets and Monique at Pet Affair for their loving care of my little mate.

As Mark Twain wrote: “The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven not man’s.”

Amen to that.

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