March 1997

Facing up to what seemed to be an impossible situation was no easy task. I had a mortgage, bills, credit agreements, a job and a Dog. I had not been schooled in the simple but practical arts of housekeeping let alone ‘fatherhood’. Of all the burdens Jemima seemed the heaviest yet she was also the brightest light in my life. All previous rules set by Catherine were abandoned and in my darkest hours of ‘loneliness’ I now had Jemima.

She followed me everywhere and I took her everywhere that I could whenever I could. Car journeys to the shops and to the video rental store saw Jemima sitting in the passenger seat watching the world streak by followed by a period of sitting and waiting while I went off, did what I had to do, then came back. Walks too were daily of course and started out being simple affairs in the green area round the corner all about the brook that separates Chessington from West Ewell. This was the same brook that was used as a backdrop for my favourite painting at the Tate Gallery – ‘Ophelia’.

I started looking for other places we could go that were close and found myself setting out from the house one day with Jemima, up to the main road, and down to Horton Country Park. We went here on many occasion and I was always dragged by the most effervescent and enthused Dog you could hope to meet. I tried all I could to teach Jemima how to walk to heel on a lead but it was no use – she wanted to run and explore. She always seemed to know where we were going, I assume because a particular direction meant a particular destination, and she wanted to get there as fast as possible. I sometimes ended up running and even then she would pull me along, always crossing the road at the same point, always turning where we needed to turn. I did try discipline of sorts – I would force her to sit before I let her off the lead – which she would always resist.

Once she was off the lead she was a marvel to watch. She had an action, at gaits that you may describe as canter and gallop, which was very graceful – like the rocking horse she had been described as when she was only 12 weeks old. She had very tidy careful feet and never seemed to be off balance. Once the walk was over she was always a lot better on the lead and once I had picked up on this I worked at her lead walking. Next time out though would be the same routine though – in fact she would not get over the inclination to pull at the lead on the outwards leg of a walk for years. In a matter of a couple of weeks I found another couple of good places to walk that were in driving distance. Epsom Downs Racecourse became a favourite as too was what I called Redhouse Woods on the Coldharbour Lane between Dorking and Coldharbour. Both locations were perfect for a young Jemima and more will be written about them later.

Evenings and weekends were otherwise spent around the house learning what it was like to be a homeowner and the freedom of expression of having your own space that it brings. I started building and changing things to my taste although not everything was as well thought out as it should have been. Jemima would always ‘help’ often sitting and watching and offering advice. Yes she had started ‘talking’ to me in a voice that sounded like the phrase ‘ayumyumyumyum’ spoken in a growly voice. There were other noises and all kinds of grunts and snuffle sounds that in hindsight were perhaps reactions to me talking to her telling her about my day or informing her of my opinions on the world. In between the conversations were of course long play sessions that involved throwing and fetching, tugging, giving and giving back, wrestling, chasing and any kind of game that we could both think of.

At the end of each day Jemima and I would be exhausted and would retire sleepily to bed – before she was quite big enough to jump up I would have to pick her up onto the bed which she was always pleased about. I would always have the window open next to the bed for fresh air despite the temperature outside and, it being March, sometimes the bedroom got quite cold. Jemima soon took to sleeping curled up in the nook of my knees as I lay on my side.

On one particular night I had bad dreams – it seemed that all my dreams of late had been unsettled. I cannot remember the exact subject of the dream but I suppose given the emotional trauma of the past month or so sooner or later the tension would be released. I found myself crying in my dream and that as I cried and sobbed I was actually crying real tears. I awoke slowly to the realisation and could not hold myself back – I lay crying in the dark lamenting my situation and feeling rather alone. It was then that a little head poked its way through my hands and started to lick my eyes. It is said, and I believed it, that Dogs can sense when something is wrong and can display great compassion. What I did not expect was a 5 month old puppy consoling a 26 year old in his hour of emotional need. Jemima licked away my tears and I hugged her. In that moment she became an emotional prop and I did not feel alone anymore. The connection forged in me right then became over the years a huge strength during difficult times. Jemima had become my home.

March 1997

Everything comes to an end sooner or later. At least in the physical world it does. The end of Catherine and I came not 30 days after our new beginning. We had bought a house together and we moved in at the beginning of February 1997. During the fateful month we purchased all those things that you buy for a house that, prior to that, you never seemed to really need. We bought all kinds of furniture plus a refrigerator, TV and Video using whatever financial means we had at our disposal. Jemima of course took everything in her stride and enjoyed the discovery of a new home. Lots of new rules were invented by Catherine though like not being allowed upstairs, having to stay in the kitchen during the day and not being allowed on furniture.

I believed more in the principle that a Dog was part of the pack. There were places where you would have priority and routines such as eating before the Dog that you use to let a Dog know its status in the pecking order. Discipline too should be a matter of using your attention as reward rather than shouting and telling off but shouting was something Catherine did a lot of towards Jemima for even the slightest misdemeanours. It was this attitude that led me to feel something was not right and after about three and a half weeks I brought it up.

Catherines reaction wasn’t particularly encouraging but I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. I’m a great believer in the idea that behaviour is always motivated and whereas you should take personality into account there is always a reason behind someones actions. Catherines general mood wasn’t good so things were definitely not right though and it all came to a head on the Wednesday evening before the Thursday morning that she left.
I had set out to try and seduce Catherine in the way that a man is inclined to do towards his partner. After a few minutes of attempted foreplay Catherine said in a resigned voice “just get on with it”. In the split second that followed I knew the score. This was over. So I did what many men would do – I got on with it. After all the lady said so. Sex can be liberating and this was one of those times but for the wrong reasons. When it was over a silence followed for a while. The argument that came next was swift and decisive. I told Catherine that it was over. It was obvious she could not care less for me and I berated her for going along with the whole house buying thing and setting up home together and that tomorrow she should leave. Bizarrely enough she asked me where she should go. It was pretty obvious to me – she had been living at her parents over the difficult few months before we moved into the new house. After my rant was over I tried to show her compassion – after all I loved her and my heart was breaking.

The following morning she left. I was distraught of course and my whole plan was in tatters. Although I was the one that called time on the relationship it was plain that I was the victim of a ‘reverse chuck’. That is ending it by making everything so miserable until the victim is inclined to end the relationship. Only in this case it was complicated. We had a house, the mortgage that came with it and various credit agreements in place for all the expensive items we had bought. And then there was Jemima.

In no time at all I resolved to pay my way – to stand up and fight for what I had committed to. I committed myself to the girl too. Not Catherine, but Jemima. She had been the first conscious ‘adult’ decision of my life and I wasn’t going to let her down. She was registered in Catherines name of course but I told Catherine straight up that she would not be getting the Dog – she seemed relieved at that. I told Jemima not to worry – I would never leave her. I had never been so afraid in my life.

February 1997

I think it was Jemimas first ‘proper’ walk. That is a walk that wasn’t down the street. A real let’s drive someplace for a day out affair. I’d never been to the New Forest before and strangely enough had never heard of it. Initially it sounded like some recently planted row of leylandii and I was sceptical. Turns out though that it was ‘new’ rather a long time ago. So we drove down and not really knowing where to go to get to the heathland areas we ended up just driving along hoping for the best. We did eventually come across some remote looking place suitable for walking so we parked up and set out.

What a joy for a puppy! Acres of long grass to run in and people everywhere. Not a single person was left ungreeted as became Jemimas way for many years while her hips and legs were good. She tore around as happy as a Dog can be when discovering new places with their master. The area we found ourself in was a wide slow grassy slope where at the bottom a disused railway embankment lay. A cutting through the embankment led beyond into what seemed to be another open area followed by woodland. We slowly made our way down with Jemima running slalom between each new friend. Everybody was given an effervescent welcome before a glancing goodbye led her onwards.

Eventually we made the cutting and passed through. I noticed that about 25 yards ahead there was a line of trees and what looked like a ditch. As we approached I could see that the ditch was around 15 feet long and filled with perfectly clear water. Jemima in her crazy dashing around did not see it at all until the moment when she plunged feet first into the water. I do not know whether because the water was so clear meant that she didn’t see it properly and perhaps it seemed to be a groove in the ground to her. She crashed into the water with an almighty splash and I wondered what she would do next. When her head came out of the water with that huge grin of hers I knew she was very pleased with her discovery. She bounded through the water along the ditch and, tail between her legs, leapt out the other end span round and launched herself back in the other direction into the ditch again and out the other side. I stood and watched this spectacle for the next 10 minutes or so as Jemima continued the dash and splash game. Joining in I encouraged her antics and for the first time in what may have been years I found myself truly happy. Today it still makes me smile. Knowing the experience well, now I have enjoyed similar discovery moments with children, I can say that it is exactly the same feeling. Unbridled joy of life is a beauty to watch and I felt, and still feel lucky, to have been there.

Eventually Jemima moved along from the ditch – although perhaps I am still there. We made our way into the woods and little more than a hundred yards into the trees Jemima began to retch. What a turnaround! One moment fun the next being sick. We discovered she had eaten some blue foam which did not agree with her disposition. Strangely enough my memory of the day ends there. I am sure that we repeated the ditch on the way back but I cannot remember.

It matters not – the day was a gift and I was, and still am, grateful.

January 1997

2 weeks away from a loved one is a long time. So it was with Jemima in the spring of 1997. Catherine eventually came around to having me back and I was grinning from ear to ear when I got back down to Basingstoke to see Jemima again. Rosie let me in and I walked through to the living room. Jemima was overjoyed to see me as was I her! I sat down on the floor and made a big fuss of her. I was a little taken aback however when she started crying. I don’t mean tears but a lamentful whining howl that you would sometimes hear from a Dog that had been left on it’s own a little too long. The long howl then turned into a single bark which shocked Jemima just as much as it had me. Her first bark! I hugged my little girl and said quietly “don’t worry, I always come back”.