"No way…no how! No pet lives in my house!" That is opening statement of the story of my dog Beau.
It took months of mental harassment from the girlfriend trying to convince me of my need of a pet.
She progressively went through demands for a dog, a cat or a rabbit. She was even prepared to settle for a Budgie. I stood firm and, unaccustomed to not getting her way, planned other ways to reverse the situation.
No one knew the real reason of the headstrong refusal, except me. I was not about to let go of my hard exterior and admit to a sensitive and soft nature.
My thirty-second birthday was a great affair. Good friends, good food, wine, soft lights and slow, romantic dancing. Marvin Gaye never sounded so good. Sexual Healing, always my favourite, wove warmth through my veins. Face to face, I held her to me as we swayed to the music. Her fingers picked at my shirt buttons, her eyes lifted to mine in a half daze, arms embraced my shoulders and the lips pecked at my neck, the tongue inscribed circles at my ear and teeth bit and pulled the lobe. I would have said yes to anything and, as the soft kisses smothered my face, I did.
This minute ball of fur appeared the next morning. This collection of white fluff with grey patches and black eyes larger than saucers was my birthday present. I sat in bed, speechless with restrained anger. The whole thing lay in my open palms. A whimper, a forlorn look into my eyes and as it shuffled deeper into it's human bed it took possession of my heart.
"Beau", a Maltese Terrier cross puppy, progressively chewed it's way through my shoes, barked me into trouble with my neighbours and had a propensity to attacking anything that was bigger than itself. Yet it loved me to death. We watched Television together, ate Junk food and played silly games that only children could understand. Sneaking into the bedroom, it would lie on its back between the two bodies under the sheets. It's own weight would eventually sag the sheets and firmly commandeer the space between us by the odd wiggle of its tiny body.
Scruffy, untiring, annoyingly ever-present and belligerent, hardly a day passed without it causing some new and costly repair to a once pristine house. Scolding was of little use. A headlong flight out of the room accompanied any burst of anger. Minutes later it would appear lying within eyesight, throwing sideways glances in my direction. Unnoticed, it would, over time, drag itself, on it's belly, towards me. Within half an hour it would be lying snuggled tightly against me.
Ten years later, this three way, love-hate relationship, started fraying at the seams. The Partnership split and my beautiful lady-friend left me, taking Beau with her. I was unconcerned. My affection for both remained and, returning to my destiny of being alone, eventually became natural. I still saw them occasionally and the welcome I was given was beyond what I was prepared to handle, without hidden tears of joy.
The day the Telephone-call came I had felt uneasy all day. My usually deep sleep was patchy and uncomfortable. Beau was found dead after being missing for two days. I was devastated. I had lost the one and only friend who ever stood by me, no matter the reason or consequence.
Beau died as he lived. Creating havoc in the streets. This time he was too old and the car too fast to escape his mischief. I lay him in my garden where a Camellia marks his final resting place. Two years have passed, but it still causes me pain just thinking of him.
"No way…no how! No pet lives in my house!"
E-mail to Ray Agius: Ramel@bigpond.com
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