This was Rosie, a Patterdale or crossbreed terrier. She was my sister’s dog. My sister took her on from a lady who had rescued her. She had apparently done film work and had a remarkable talent for balancing in a begging position or doing tricks. She had many homes and some bad habits. She would pee if you went out, or if she felt like it, on people’s beds, including those of my sister’s house mates, and was prone to the odd nip when my sister first took her on. She once went missing and my sister was distraught. She had, it seemed, followed my sister to Waitrose, but luckily a kind person found her on the road, thinking at first she was a fox, red as her coat was.
She befriended a big Mastiff called Tiddles, who one day saved her life when she fell in a swimming pool, and barked relentlessly till help came. She hated boyfriends and ensured they were carefully observed. She loved comfort and would find a human bed to sleep in, or a comfortable silk cushion to lie on.
Rosie then moved in with Mum and Dad. My Dad was never that enamoured of her, being “a Labrador and Collie man.” She barked a lot and peed on his expensive new duvet. She sometimes got hold of our poor collie’s ear fur out of jealousy. Mum waited on Rosie. When she became fussy about her food, Mum cooked her scrambled egg. “Your dinner looks nice,” I would say to her as I saw a stew boiling on the hob.” “It’s not for us, it’s for Rosie,” she would say, unaware of the irony of Rosie having freshly cooked meals worthy of a lady. Despite her humble beginnings, a lady she thought she was. Rosie took to sleeping on the silk cushions, knowing they were more luxurious than the others. She could sense if you were ill and rested up in bed in the day time. She had an uncanny instinct for a warm place to sleep and would come from the other side of the house and curl up beside you. I am sure she had a human soul. She looked into your eyes, which is unusual for a dog. She would not accept it if people did not like her and insisted on sleeping beside my Dad’s cousin when she stayed with us, who at first was wary and more of a cat person, but eventually conceded to like her.
One day my Dad returned home with a secret stash of chocolate brazil nuts. He returned to the open car to find Rosie on the seat, scoffing the last one. Mum and I heard a load of shouting and wondered what had happed. To add insult to injury, as Rosie slept beside my mum that night, she was sick on the bed and, up in their entirety, came the brazil nuts.
She would welcome customers into Mum and Dad’s shop, only to chase them away and nip at their ankles when they left. She lived to a ripe old age in great comfort. A rescue dog can have many problems, but it is very rewarding when they come to love you as much as you love them.
Rosie was a wonderful muse. It was many years ago that she was in our lives but we still miss her. I have painted her portrait on canvas and tried to capture her grandiosity. I loved to paint her in her famous pose and she adorned my Hudson and Middleton mugs and greetings cards.
Dogs are wonderful friends. Please share this story with your friends if you enjoyed it!
If you are interested in a memorial portrait, or a portrait as a lasting memory of a beloved dog, I can work from your old photos and descriptions of them.