WILLIAM

CHAPTER FOUR

by JEAN NORFOLK

He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader…

I grew to love the quiet times I shared with William at home. Yes, we did have them - when all the walking was done for the day and we could finally relax for the rest of the evening. When he had run off all his excess energy he’d be eager for the peace and seclusion of home with a nice cool drink and his meal to look forward to.

He loved sausages and I’d regularly heat up the grill and cook them for him at teat-time. It was so comforting and satisfying to see him tucking in heartily and enjoying his food. Another of his favourite meals was scrambled eggs, or fish with rice. He had quite a varied appetite, and loved everything from carrots and fresh peas (raw) to chocolate and biscuits, or a helping of whatever I was eating! If he saw me eating pasta he’d sit there and drool until he got some too. He loved chicken and liver, but didn’t care much for steak, although a slice of roast beef from the Sunday joint was devoured with relish!

Cornflakes for his breakfast with a drop of milk were a must when we returned from our early morning walk, although porridge was a very acceptable alternative.

I can only recall three things that he flatly refused to eat. They were strawberries, tripe, and dog chocolates. I was eating strawberries one day, and William sat looking up at me expectantly so I tossed one in the air. He caught it, then immediately spat it out again.

After reading somewhere that tripe was good for dogs, I bought him a very small portion just to see if he liked it. Well it certainly wasn’t good for William! He backed away in disgust and looked at me reproachfully for offering it to him. That was his first and last encounter with tripe.

One day, when William was a very young dog, I clearly remember baking and leaving a couple of sponge cakes to cool on the worktop in the kitchen. When I went back later I couldn’t understand where they had disappeared to until I saw William looking decidedly guilty… That was the only time he ever “helped himself.” As he grew older he would always sit and wait patiently for his meals, and I could quite confidently leave food on the table and know that he wouldn’t touch it.

When he had finished his evening meal he would curl up on the rug in front of the sofa, or in cold weather, in front of the fire, and sleep soundly for a couple of hours. Sometimes he chose to lie in front of the display cabinet in the living room. I let him decide where he wanted to sleep. If he lay in a doorway I’d stride over or walk around him rather than disturb him.

As I write this I can see scuff marks on the base of the cabinet where William used to lie and dream his “doggie dreams”. I lost count of the number of times I watched him “running” in his sleep, with his paws and his mouth twitching, and listening to his muted “woofs” as he chased whatever it is that dreaming dogs chase! Sometimes he would appear to be so deeply troubled I was tempted to wake him up.

Although he was still a very lively energetic dog, especially around visitors, he was now a very gentle, loving and loveable dog when we were alone. My early attempts to “get close” to him and show him affection had always been rebuffed. He hated it if I attempted to hug him, and always pulled away with a grunt of disapproval. Now however, his devotion and dedication to me began to emerge at last, and this gentle, tender side to his character really knocked me for six when he actually began to display his feelings tangibly.

One afternoon I was reading a book when he quietly came and sat beside my chair then lifted a paw and rested it on my knee. At first I didn’t dare to look at him because I feared that if I did, that lovely moment would be lost. I was sure he’d take away his paw and then bark loudly for attention and that little bit of magic would disappear forever. He didn’t though. I reached out my hand to stroke his head and his big brown eyes looked up at me with such adoration I just melted. Then he actually licked the back of my hand, and I knew that in spite of all the worries and the doubts that I had harboured in the beginning, we had just passed a very significant milestone.

He grew to be quite protective and possessive of me, as I discovered one day when I had a bad fall in the street. Three women rushed over to offer their assistance but William, who was somewhat perplexed to see me suddenly lying on the pavement, refused to let them near me. I believe he was convinced that they either meant me harm, or were responsible for my fall in the first place. He even got hold of the cuff of one woman’s coat and literally tried to pull her away from me. Fortunately, I was able to get up unaided and apart from a few grazes and an injured wrist I wasn’t too badly hurt. When William realised that I was all right he actually began trying to make friends with my three helpers.

Most times he hated it if I spoke to anyone else. If I stopped in the street for a chat he would bark non-stop until I moved on. Then he’d trot along happily beside me content in the knowledge that I was “all his” once more! If I went into the garden at home and spoke to a neighbour over the fence he’d charge outside barking loudly, telling me to stop. On numerous occasions, I’ve angrily ordered him back inside and shut him indoors just so that I could carry on a conversation in peace!

When the weather permitted, he loved being outside in the garden and spent hours simply watching people pass by, or snoozing on the lawn. No matter who said “Hello” to him, he’d get to his feet and walk slowly towards them wagging his tail and barking a greeting. He just adored people in general – as long as they made a fuss of him – and ignored me!

Unlike some dogs, William hardly ever jumped up on the furniture. He preferred a nice soft rug to the sofa and in the fourteen years I had him I can only recall one occasion when he climbed up onto my bed.

It was a hot, humid day, not my favourite kind of weather! I felt really ill, so I decided to lie down for a few minutes in the bedroom. William was outside lying in the shade, and I knew he would bark if anyone called. I fell asleep, and was woken about twenty minutes later by a very anxious looking dog as he shuffled up alongside me, whining as he licked my arm and my face. He was genuinely concerned about me and had come to investigate my absence. I reached out to hug him, and in that moment I realised what a joy he was!

His cardboard box “bed” had of course been replaced with a proper dog bed shortly after his arrival some years earlier. When he first got it, he took great delight in dragging it around whenever visitors arrived, even though he was just a puppy then and the bed was huge compared to his size. I would race around after him trying to rescue it and hide it away out of sight. Consequently, being used as a bed, and on occasions a plaything by William, it had been washed so many times that it was now looking decidedly faded and worn. Following the incident with William climbing up on to my bed I decided to buy him a new one.

This time he got a beautiful red velour “top-of-the-range” model which he loved and thankfully he made no attempt to drag this one around and show it off to visitors. I discovered later though, that he didn’t approve of me washing it when it got grubby. If it had been freshly laundered, he’d refuse to sleep in it for two or three days, showing preference for the rug by the sofa instead. Then he’d gingerly try out his bed several times before finally deciding to spend the night in it. Who was it, who said, “A dog teaches us to turn around three or four times before lying down”? That was certainly true of William!

I always said “good night” to him before I went to bed, and his reaction still makes me smile when I remember it. He always guarded his bed with great tenacity. He regarded it as his territory, which of course it was, and once he had curled up in it and settled down for the night he deeply resented any intrusion whatsoever. My gentle pat on his head and whispered “good night my darling”, would be met by a deep throated “Grrr!”

He always slept soundly and in fact most nights he snored so loudly the walls almost shook! Some nights, when a pillow over my ears didn’t work and my nerves could stand it no longer. I’d be forced to call out “William!” and the snoring would stop immediately.

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