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Bobby and Amy joined our madhouse soon after we married,
and lived to a ripe age of thirteen years; passing in February
and May 2000, respectively.
Bobby was registered to the Kennel Club and his Kennel Club name was Graf Spee Brightstar. Brightstar Pela was his mother’s Kennel Name, and we chose the name Graf Spee, because even as a puppy - he was as strong as a pocket battleship.
We chose a German battleship to mark my half German nationality.
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Bobby was an extremely mad and energetic English Springer Spaniel who came to live with us when he was twelve weeks old.
His parents were working gun-dogs and passed on their excellent gun-dog noses to Bobby. In return, and to our embarrassment, Bobby spent his life demonstrating his sniffer-dog-nose skills.
About a year after buying Bobby, Amy arrived, as a young-adult.
We rescued Amy from the local dog shelter where she had previously been left after giving birth to a litter of puppies.
Because Bobby was to remain intact, around six months later,
Amy was neutered.
Both Bobby and Amy lived to a ripe old age of thirteen,
succumbing to old age in February and May 2000.
Sacha joined our family as a twelve week old bundle
of mischief in late spring of 1999, keeping both Bobby and Amy entertained during their final months.
Amy’s first encounter with Sacha was to promptly nip her nose. The nip sent Sacha racing upstairs, squealing very loudly - closely followed by me, screaming very loudly. Close behind Sacha and myself, followed Peter, who was trying desperately to calm everyone down.
I am pleased to say the nip left no mark, physically, or mentally,
it was simply Amy’s way of showing little Sacha who was boss.
Amy and Sacha had a good relationship thereafter, and respected one another’s status.
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Bobby and Amy thoroughly enjoyed their walks and adventures. Weekends and holidays were spent with Peter, myself (and Bobby and Amy), tramping for miles around the coastlines and countryside of Northumberland and Tyne and Wear. Often, Amy would become fed up with walking, and around the ten mile mark,
she would go on strike, sit down, and refuse to budge.
She was then carried back to our car.
Bobby on the other hand, had boundless amounts of energy - and whilst outdoors, he would happily run, swim, bark and dig,
all day long.
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The following picture was taken by a local photographer when Bobby was five months old. When we retuned the following week to collect the photographs - for some unexplainable reason,
Bobby was bright yellow from head to foot.
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For approximately eight months, we had Bobby, Amy, Sacha and eight cats. Suffice to say, our house was Bedlam. We bought Sacha when she was a puppy to help us cope with the inevitability of losing both Bobby and Amy. Sacha was an excellent puppy, and because her toilet training days coincided with Summer, we didn’t need to toilet train her. She simply followed, and learned - from Bobby and Amy’s expeditions into our back garden.
The following picture shows Amy lying in a cat bed. Her body language shows she knows she is in the wrong bed - but just couldn’t help herself. She was definitely a boss-dog.
We were laughing so much, I am glad we had the presence to take the photograph.
I was throwing snowballs at Bobby and Amy in the following picture. I cannot resist snow, and love to be out in it,
especially when it is falling.
This photograph was taken when Bobby was around five months
old, and was taken in the grounds of Jesmond Dene.
Cats were not Amy’s favourite creature, which was awkward, as we have always had cats - and once had eight. However, she
was watched carefully, and was never allowed to be alone with them. The following picture was taken by myself; I had been watching TV, and somehow, Amy and our rescued cat Steve, were curled up together, fast asleep. When they were awake, they kept a respectful distance from one another, I was therefore delighted to see them sleeping together, and glad I could photograph the moment. I rescued Steve from two young boys, who were throwing stones at him - when he was about four weeks old.
Despite having epilepsy, Steve lived a long and healthy life.
Peter and I were quite concerned when Steve suffered his first grand mal seizure, as we didn’t know what was happening.
However, through experience, we learned to keep calm, and to ensure Steve was in no danger.
Fortunately, Steve was a house cat.
Bobby’s lifetime companion was a duck he sucked for comfort. Due to wear and tear, his duck eventually became a snoopy dog, however, for Bobby’s sake, it’s name remained duck. He wore out two snoopy dogs, and various replacement ducks.
We have kept the duck seen in the following photograph.
The following photograph was taken at Newburn, near Wylam - in Northumberland. The large stone faces the river, and is where Peter and myself would often sit, to eat our lunches. When I took this photograph, it was initially with just Amy in mind. However, after development, we noticed Bobby in the background,
desperately trying to climb over the rock. He didn’t quite manage
it though, as he had a large log in his mouth - and kept dropping it.
This photograph was again taken at Wylam, and Bobby is enjoying playing with a large log. Bobby’s party trick was swimming whilst carrying a large log in his mouth, and barking at the same time. Bobby swam nearly every day, and he loved it. Any type of water was fair game for Bobby; it was hilarious watching Bobby emerge from the water, soaking wet, and carrying
a very wide log in his mouth.
Watching passers-by scatter - especially when he shook, was priceless. He was always closely supervised, and almost everyone saw the funny side.
He was well known as the barking-swimming-log-carrying-dog.
The following photograph demonstrates the strength of Bobby’ neck muscles. He learned how to finely balance large logs in his mouth, keeping them straight. However, when carrying large logs, he inevitably encountered narrow styles/gates, and become stuck.
He would try to manoeuvre his log through a narrow opening, and sometimes, depending on the width - he would succeed, and proudly bound off into the distance. If he was unsuccessful, (or we lacked time, or patience), Peter would take the log off him, and pop it over the gate - and all would be well until the next encounter
with a narrow style/gate.
The following photograph demonstrates the large log and
narrow style/gate scenario.
When Bobby was about five years old, Peter, Bobby, Amy and myself were walking along Tynemouth’s pier when we were approached by a woman who admired Bobby,
(I had just bathed and cut him).
She asked if we could make Bobby available to stud Bonnie, her English Springer Spaniel bitch. After a few days of thinking, the sessions were arranged. There were two sessions, both supervised by myself and Peter - and because Bobby was a large, long-legged Springer - and Bonnie very slight, great care had to be taken so Bobby did not inadvertently crush her.
The following photograph shows Bonnie and her litter
soon after the birth.
The birth had gone smoothly, and mum and babies were well.
This was taken a few weeks later, and as you can see, the puppies are eager to explore their surroundings.
This photograph was taken by myself. Bobby was craning his
neck, looking around me, to see Peter.
By the time Sacha arrived, Bobby and Amy were thirteen - and Bobby had lost the use of his sight due to cataracts.
However, as the photograph below shows, Bobby’s blindness didn’t get in the way of his daily walks, and luckily for Bobby - his nose was in perfect working order. He would happily sniff his way around his walks, whilst little Sacha, and Amy, merrily trotted close by.
Amy is just out of the photograph.
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Wendi E M Scarth.
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