My story starts in the UK as a six-year-old boy growing up in a small country village in the North of England in the early 1950s
I had been in hospital for six weeks for, of all things, a Tape Worm acquired from pinching the raw meat cubes my mother cut up to make stews with. Anyway, I digress from my story. My parents decided that I needed some cheering up after this ordeal and, upon my return home, my father asked me if I would like a pet dog, and if I wanted to get a little dog or a big one. What a question to ask a six-year-old boy. (The story usually goes like this - boy brings stray dog home, father saying, ."and he can't stay here") So naturally my response was a resounding, "Yes, I'd love a BIG dog". Where they got him from I do not know but a few days later my dad brought home a small six-week-old bundle of fur that I named 'Rover'. He was a black, white and brown Border Collie known as a Blue Murl due to the fact that one eye was blue and the other was gray.
As I was an only child Rover took the place of a brother and we went everywhere together. We played soccer in the fields that our house backed onto. Rover would run trying to get hold of the ball which was too big for his mouth so it would propel forward and I would kick it back and try to get past him which, after a bit of practice on his part, was no easy task. His skills developed rapidly until soon he could dribble the ball using a combination of his nose and the propelling method mentioned earlier. We played this way until both of us were completely exhausted. Then it would be home to read a story from one of my Rupert Bear books. Another favorite game involved me with roller-skates on being towed behind a cat- chasing Rover at full flight. Fortunately we never actually caught a cat but the thrill of speeding up the street was excellent. Unfortunately this chasing trait was to be a downfall in Rover's life. Behind our house in those days was a large hilly paddock that had a swampy area with a large pond which froze over in winter and in summer provided a great place for hunting frogs, newts and any other aquatic species we could find. There was a flat area known as the patch of grass where we boys would play out 'The World Cup Soccer match' and on the hilly area just a short distant away we would ride our toboggans in winter. If my story sounds very idealistic; it was. Sadly it has all gone now replaced with a school I think. Again, I digress. It was whilst playing in this area that my story takes a turn for the worse when Rover is run over. I heard the screeching tyres followed by a loud yelping. The driver told my dad the dog (Rover) had just run straight in front of him chasing a cat. His front left leg was badly broken and never did repair to give full 100% use. His soccer days were severely hindered.
At the age of 11 we moved from this area to the city of Manchester and, at the age of 15½, I immigrated to Australia leaving Rover behind with my dad who now lived with his sister after my mum had passed away 2 years previously. Rover lived to be 15 years old and I remember our times together like it was yesterday.
From my arrival in Australia I have always had a dog from Collies to Cattle Dogs to German Shepards. They've all had their special place in my life, but without a doubt the most radical change in my story came about when Midget, a 10 week old Jack Russell Terrier, came along. (Special Note: Here in Australia my dog Midget is classed as a Miniature Fox Terrier, or Tenderfield Terrier but for the rest of you she looks like a Jack Russell). This is the first time I have ever owned a small dog. The impact that this little dog has had on me is the reason for this web site. I should also mention that I recently gave a home to Donny, another Jack Russell rescued from the pound. He comes with some unwelcome habits (now that is another story)but is improving daily and is very loveable.
So I guess this is where the story really begins so explore the site and enjoy it.
