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Sharon Bloomfield
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My love for dogs started at a very early age -
birth in fact.
The day I was born my dad bought a sable rough collie puppy dog and called him
'Paddy'.
As you can imagine I don't remember too much about him, but as puppies and
newborns go
I guess we just slept a lot.
One story mum told me, was that in those days we
had the good old terry nappy and would boil them.
Mum being a new mum, one thing led to another and she just forgot about the
nappies boiling
on the cooker
and went out with my dad and of course little me.
We were only a short time away
from the house
and on the way back, my mum
pointed out to my dad, that there was a fire engine
in our road.
They then realised that it was near to our house. In fact it was at our house.
The nappies had boiled dry whilst we were out and our neighbour had called in
the fire brigade.
The funny thing was that the fireman wouldn't go into our house, because he was
afraid of the dog
and the dog wouldn't come out, because he was afraid of the fireman.
Sadly we had to move and couldn't keep 'Paddy'
so the people that bought the house
took the dog too.
The first real involvement I had with dogs was
with 'Rani' our afghan hound bitch.
She was a big girl to play with, but our cat 'Bobby' seemed to nicely sort her
out.
Her grandfather was Best Of Breed at Crufts one year, in 1973 or 74, I can't
remember which.
I remember going to an exemption show with her and a lady we met called Ganilla
(I remember the name but not the spelling).
I took 'Rani' into the junior handling class and won a first.
I think my mum still has
the rosette somewhere.
We did have our one and only litter from 'Rani'.
That was the first time I saw puppies being born.
We didn't have a whelping box but we had heaters and things
and she had the pups
in the cupboard under the stairs.
My brother and myself just sat on small chairs and watched for awhile,
but as it
was getting late, we were sent to bed
having watched five being born and thought that was it,
as nothing else seemed
to be happening.
To our surprise, when we got up the next morning, there were six pups.
A big brindle bruiser of a dog, we later named 'Bruno', was the last to arrive.
Knowing then what I know now, it was a good job he was last out.
We did keep a dog from
that litter, but he grew TOO FOND off his mother, so we let him go.
My parents
split when I was young, so 'Rani' was re-homed.
We just kept rabbits and cats
for some time after that.
'Rani' is on the left
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