December 1996 – January 1997

It had been decided by circumstance that Jemima would live at Catherines parents house until the house we were buying together was ready. Rosie and Tony were very good about the whole thing if perhaps a little apprehensive. Puppies can be after all be a little destructive and there is of course the toilet issue. Boxes were found and newspapers gathered and on the first night the entrance hall just inside the front door was covered with a tabloid carpet ready to receive whatever may come. Jemimas bed was a box turned on it’s side with blankets folded up and placed inside. The stairs were blockaded, all doors closed and a barrier erected to stop the new inmate escaping into the kitchen. Bedtime came and Jemima was placed in her bed, told she was a good girl, and off we all went upstairs to sleep. Then it started.

The first night is always difficult and any Dog owner will know the sound of those heart rending cries. It’s unnatural really to expect a puppy taken away from it’s family to suddenly cope with being left alone while the rest of the new pack goes off someplace else to sleep.

Within minutes the cries started and for the next few hours Catherine and I took turns going back downstairs to console Jemima and to try to get her to sleep. Whenever I managed to get her to sleep I would quietly slip back upstairs and try to get to sleep myself. Usually within an hour Jemima would wake up and so the process went on all night. The second night was of course the same. Gradually over a period of days the nights got easier but the days more intense.

It was very obvious from early on that Jemima had a fondness for toys of all kinds. We would play together on the floor for hours stopping only when she stooped to goto the toilet upon which she would be whisked outside and praised for being a good girl. Even when there were accidents she would be taken outside and always praised. She picked the idea of going outside for the toilet very quickly and the only accidents were because no one noticed her standing by the patio doors. Walks were a long way off of course as she was still unvaccinated at this point. So the days were spent with me on the floor with various toys playing tug or fetching or giving and giving back. Every toy and game were met with much enthusiasm and intensity. I say intensity because she really concentrated on what was going on. It was again another trait that would stay with her through her life. She was also very persistent and seemed to learn quickly. She learnt very quickly too what she was allowed to chew and what not to chew. I only remember a single attempt at chewing something other than a toy. She approached a bookcase and, glancing over at me with a mischievous look, placed her mouth over a book that was sticking out a little more than the rest. “No Jemima” I said in a stern voice and then looked away ignoring her. She left the book alone and came walking over to carry on playing with official toys. Who needs all these strange items dotted around the house anyway when you’ve got a rope, a squeaky and a ball? Squeakys especially she loved in the early days. She would plant her head on you and stare lovingly into your eyes while squeaking the toy over and over and over again!

One of my favourite memories of Packenham Road was Jemima pacing around me, while I lay on the floor, wagging her tail profusely. I would say “climb the mountain” to her and she would climb up onto my chest via my feet and legs. Then she would lay down on me and flop whatever toy she had onto my face or neck.

Quite soon after Jemima arrived at Packenham Road she did of course need to get her inoculations. When the day came I walked down to the vet carrying her in a towel. Her head bobbed about over my shoulder as she saw some of the world up close for the first time. Everything was of interest. Anything that made a noise got special attention.

Her jabs came and went but life started to change ominously. Catherine and I were not getting along too well. She needed some space from me and I had to stay away. At the time I was confident that all would be well but looking back it was probably a closer run thing than I knew. In any case I would now not see Jemima for two weeks. That was tough.

December 1996

And so the day came when it was agreed that Catherine and I could collect our new puppy. Earlier that week I had let Catherines mum know about what was about to happen. Unfortunately Rosie reacted when I told her about what I was getting Catherine for christmas and Catherine, being in the same room, had guessed what was going on. I can still hear Rosies voice saying “Oh My God” over and over again. It didn’t matter much to me though - it was probably a good thing that Catherine found out beforehand I surmised at the time.

Over the next couple of days we agreed on a name – it was to be Jemima. A name I hadn’t considered but Catherine chose it after Jemima Goldsmith whom I only knew as being moderately famous.

When saturday came we set off early and arrived in good time at the farm. Jean welcomed us in and this time sat us both down and talked to us about the commitment we were entering into and then set about sorting out the paperwork. It didn’t take too long though and before we knew it our little girl was being led out to us with the new lead and collar we had bought for her. All the other puppies from the litter except for one had already been collected and I felt a little sad at what was about to happen. Jemimas mother was walking about and I can still remember by own heartache at the thought that this parting was forever. Never again would Jemima be in the company of her precious Mother. I felt sorry too for the lone boy that Jemima was leaving behind. Jeans husband led Jemima out of the small concrete paddock and commented upon Jemimas dressage like movement. Indeed I can remember the sight – she was in a slow graceful canter almost like a rocking horse. It was the way she would always be as she grew older – I never tired of the sight of her running and the way that she moved. We took her lead, said our goodbyes and got in the car. Driving away was a wrench for me but Jemima didn’t look back, only forwards, sitting on a light blue towel on Catherines lap.

The journey back to Basingstoke took around 3 hours. Jemima lay on Catherines lap facing forward all the way there and spent most of the time lightly panting. It was to be a feature of her early months since she was used to living in an outhouse and any kind of man made heat be it central heating or a warm cuddle would be too hot for her and she would wriggle off to find somewhere cooler to be.

Summer 1996

I find it interesting to look back and observe how I got to where I am today. All the decisions and happenstances and luck good and bad where literally turning a different corner would have taken you somewhere completely different that is now lost to fate. When I look back at the reasons for Jemima coming into my life I often wonder did I really want a Dog or did I just want to belong? I certainly remember thinking that Catherine, my girlfriend of the time, would be “the one” as a woman would call it. To get a Dog was a logical step in my planned relationship process i.e :

• Step 1) Meet girl and play up to the fact that I lived in Richmond to impress her
• Step 2) Start seeing said girl, fall in love and move in together
• Step 3) Buy House and get a Dog.

In reality though there turned out to be a step 2.1) Tell girl to move out because you want to be with girl number 2 while having secretly slept with girl number 3, 2.2) Start seeing girl 1 at the same time as girl 2 because you don’t know how to say no, 2.3) Forget to phone girl 2 when she’s ill, 2.4) move girl 1 back in and make plans to buy a new House.

Logically speaking having deviated from the original plan but having arrived back on track after a meandering, exciting but ultimately humiliating detour the next step was to get the Dog. I remember vaguely the conversations about getting two Labradors someday, one Yellow and one Black, and calling them Biscuit and Liqourice. It definitely was not in plan though that I would secretly investigate Labrador breeders straight away and find somewhere that had a Yellow Male and Black female available sometime during the run up to Christmas 1996. I found the perfect pair of breeders who were located in the vicinity of my hometown. One had Yellow Males and the other a single Black Female.

So I went to see the two litters of puppies inside 24 hours on special consideration - you’re supposed to leave 48 hours between litters – on the basis that each breeder knew each other and trusted that their respective litters would not be carrying any infectious diseases. I went to see the first litter on a Friday night and the old lady breeder told me she would let me know if she would allow me to buy one of her babies the next day – I phoned her in the morning and she said no. The second litter I went to see on the saturday afternoon. I found myself arriving and not being quite sure where I was going found myself walking through the grounds of the small stud farm and there seemed to be nobody about. I turned a corner and there they were…6 or 7 small bundles of black fur all huddled up together in an outhouse and craning their necks up to see me.

They were all sitting in some kind of bed with a single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. The light was turned on. It was then that I noticed the house and a lady sitting inside. I approached and she saw me and came to greet me. She introduced herself as Jean Allen and sat me down at her kitchen table. We exchanged pleasantries before getting down to the serious business of Dogs. I explained what I was doing and she set about explaining the nature of the commitment to getting a Dog.

It fell on deaf ears really because when it came to Dogs I felt like an expert. Not because of any great knowledge of Dogs but because I had grown up with them and I felt connected to them. I was the kind of boy that was left in the protection of a Dog while my Grandparents went out. I’m sure any sane person today would throw their hands up in horror at the thought of leaving a baby with a Dog but back in the 1970′s it was normal. Wasn’t it? Turns out it probably wasn’t normal but in my heart of hearts, given the Dog that I was left with wouldn’t even let family members that it knew touch me if he’d been told to look after me, I can’t get excited about it. I wouldn’t leave my own children in the house alone with a Dog but I don’t find it distressing that it was done to me. In fact I feel safer around Dogs than I do people. So I was sitting there in Jean Allens kitchen listening to what a Dog needs and what to expect and I tried to make the right noises and to say the right things. I was very aware after my rejection of the morning that it was a serious business getting a Dog these days. After a short while and intimating that I was unperturbed Jean went off to get the puppy. She returned a minute or so later with a small bundle of black fur, a pretty little girl, and proceeded to stand her on the kitchen table and to arrange her legs in what was presumably some kind of showing pose. Poor little girl was shivering and seemed subdued. That being the first time I saw Jemima I think I fell in love immediately and even today as I write it gives me goosebumps thinking about it. After a minute or two Jean put the puppy down on the floor and continued to talk but now all my attention was on this little thing that was starting to explore the kitchen. She wandered around sniffing the floor and anything she could reach. I say sniffing because that was presumably what it was but instead of a regular Dog sniff it sounded more like a truffle pig. How could a little baby make such a noise? I found this rather amusing but didn’t show it and carried on trying to listen to all the advice and lecturing. Then the little puppy went over to the water bowl and laid down and stuck her nose in the water to drink – this was funny for me as I’d never seen a Dog lay down to drink before. Continuing unabated Jean kept going with her soliloquy and I tried to listen intently. Suddenly I felt a tug and as I looked down this funny little Dog, who I now noticed had an odd stripe down her nose, was looking at me with a mischievous face and was tugging on the cuff of my leather jacket. I waved my hand down there to play with her and she just kept tugging. I had to laugh and I felt connected to this now not so subdued little thing already.

Fortunately during the course of what was around 20 minutes Jean seemed to warm to me and she agreed to let me have her. I was rather happy at that point and gladly paid over my deposit. I seem to vaguely remember now that the little ones Mother was brought in for me to inspect – I was mildly interested because I thought this was what my little baby would grow up to be like. The Mother was a typical looking working stock Black Labrador and was short and stout. When I think back to seeing the Mother and how different Jemima turned out it makes me chuckle a little. My baby would grow up to be a little podgy at times but was in essence very slimline and delicate – people would mistake her for a puppy up until she was maybe 7 or 8 years old. Before I left I commented on the line down the puppies nose and Jean said not to worry as it would grow out as she got older to which I was a little disappointed – luckily it never did. That day, leaving the farm, I was happy and couldn’t wait to pick her up in 4 weeks time.