“If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.”
~ Will Rogers
I’m in Brisbane for a few days. I’ve got some work to do, and some medical things. Ben needed to go back to the farm so he took Harry the pup, and left Bert here with me.
Suits me fine. Bert is fabulous company.
When I am sick at night, or in pain, Bert comes and lies right beside me with his head or his paw on me to let me know I’m not alone. He looks at me with his face full of love and concern, and I am always comforted.
While I’m writing he sits at my feet, and the moment I stand up he’s with me, going wherever I go.
Bert greets my clients at the door and sees them out again. He is particularly ecstatic when people greet him by name, and he laps up all their attention.
When I’ve been working too long, Bert reminds me that it’s time to play.
I feel very safe with Bert here. When he was just a puppy, maybe six months old, I was alone in the house with just Bert, and our old dog Charlie for company.
Just before six in the morning I let the dogs out the back door for a wee, and then made myself a cup of tea. Thinking I might pick some mint for my drink I stepped out into the back yard, still wearing my little nightie. It didn’t matter. The back yard is very private and well screened from the street and the neighbours.
To my horror a large man stood only feet away from me, wearing a dark beanie pulled low over his forehead. He was no neighbour, and my heart thudded in my chest.
At that moment my two dogs came tearing around the side of the house, ready for breakfast. Charlie, my old Bluey, came and pressed up against my legs, positioning himself between me and the intruder. Snarling, he began to back me into the house.
Little Bert began barking at this mountain of a man, who took off through the yard and vaulted over the neighbour’s fence.
I hurried back inside and grabbed the phone, rushing to the front window to see what was happening. The big man was walking up the street with Bert hanging off his elbow.
Bert let go of the man at the top of the street, barked once and then pranced all the way back home.
Bert has been looking after me ever since.
What better friend can there be than a dog?