Tara: 7 July 1987
to 2 April 1997
Puppyhood
I first saw Tara on 14 July 1987. She was only a week old and her
eyes were still closed. I had to 'choose' between two that were left.
One was all black, and the other was black and white, (this was to be
my puppy, Tara). The children of the household had originally
called her Shelly, but I wasn't keen on that. In fact I was
struggling to think of any name for her, as I had planned to get a
dog and had chosen a boys name, Askit. Askit didn't seem to be a
girls name, so I ended up with Tara. (I don't know if you've twigged,
but I chose Askit originally, because when people come up to you and
ask you your pets name, I was going to reply, 'Askit'.)
It was a strange situation from the house were I bought her from.
The parents were both Dobermann pure-breds with Championship
Certificates, but they had produced 7 puppies thus: 2 all tan, 3 all
black, and 2 black and white. They were selling like hot cakes, and I
had to get in quickly. (At the time I was 19, had been away from home
for 3 years, and had little money. These pups were going at a reduced
rate!)
I reluctantly chose the little Black and with one, basically
because she had licked me. I didn't know which one to choose. How can
you choose something that can't even walk or see yet? I also say
reluctantly, because how can you tell their personality at that age?
I went away, knowing that I would pick her up on 12 August 1987.
I had to travel by bus to collect Tara, as I was car-less at the
time, and it was a complete nightmare. She was only 5 weeks old, and
she was a noisy little so and so! You couldn't blame her though, as
she had just left her mum and her little brothers and sisters to come
into a cardboard box on a cold rainy day. I shall always remember
that day, because mostly it is always raining then. I had people
whining and complaining, as she was making a real noise!
Eventually I got her home, this tiny little thing which fit in the
palm of my hand, which, when your hands are as small as mine, you
know is tiny! She wouldn't leave my side for an instant, and I had to
feed her bread and milk for the first couple of weeks. I really
regret never taking any pictures of her when she was this small, I
only started taking pictures when she was about 4 months old.
When it was my 20th birthday in September, I treated myself to a
glass of white wine. Not having a table as such, I placed the wine on
the floor for me to drink when I wanted, (I've never been much for
going out in smoky atmospheres, so I preferred to stay at home). I
remember dozing, then being awoken by a very loud lapping sound.
Disorientated, it took me a few seconds to twig that Tara was
drinking my wine! I stopped her as soon as I realized what she was
doing, but it was too late. She was completely paralytic.
I must say now that I don't condone animals drinking, but it was
highly amusing. Tara was trying to get up onto the furniture,
(without success) and peeing everywhere. She didn't know what to do
with herself. Tara never did learn from her lesson though, as you
always had to be extremely careful when you where drinking anything
alcoholic, she adored it!
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Hysterectomy
The time then came for Tara to be spayed. I let her have one
season, then decided to have her 'done'. I drove her to the vets, and
she happily went away with him, little knowing what was in store for
her. When I picked her up, she was wobbling about, and I had to pick
her up. This was by no means easy, and there were two wobbly mammals
staggering to the car. I managed to get her home, and she immediately
came to sit on my knee. Unusually for me, I was wearing a
skirt. As was the fashion then, skirts were very flared, and
she sat on this. This was the quietist she had been since she got
herself drunk. Believe me, I made the most of it.
To say Tara was a hyperactive puppy was an understatement. She
never, ever let up. My husband had no time for her, and when he died,
Tara showed complete indifference for the fact he had gone. She was
always, and would only ever be mine.
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Tara's Tail
When I first saw Tara at a week old, she had her tail docked. It
wasn't until she was older that I saw what a complete and utter mess
they had made of it. The owners wanted to save money and wouldn't get
the vet. Tara had a bald patch on the end of her tail, which was more
noticeable in the summer months. Other people could never see it, but
I could! (Pedantic Virgo's rule OK.)
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Tara's
Temperament
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The above photo was taken in
August 1996 at Roker, Newcastle- upon-Tyne, England, where I
had been staying with friends for a holiday. At the
time the photo was taken Tara had just been in the sea
chasing the waves.
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Tara had the most wonderful temperament that you could
ever wish for. She adored children, and would let them ride
on her back! Some children came round for their dinner once,
and one was petrified of Tara. He screamed when she went to
him to be stroked. She came running around to me, scared
that she had done something wrong, and peed. My husband
wanted to smack her, but I wouldn't let him touch her. She'd
done nothing wrong as far as I could see, it is most dogs
natural reaction to any upset. To smack them would make them
worse!
I was once taking my niece a walk in her buggy with Tara,
and 2 dogs who Tara knew well and played with came to sniff
the baby. Without hesitation, Tara turned on both of them
and nearly killed them. She was shaking them by the throat,
and the fact they were English Collies saved them. I had a
real job getting her off them! Ever since then Tara went for
them.
Another time that Tara went for something, the victim was
a person. I was walking in the valley were I lived (born and
bred in the Lancashire countryside me y'know), when I became
aware of someone following behind me. This guy was wearing
ordinary shoes, (something country people don't tend to wear
in fields) and his pace was hotting up. Tara was off the
lead as usual and was in front. Tara always looked to see
where I was though, and I'm glad she did. I heard this guy
start to run, and she immediately run at him. My reaction
was then to run out of the way (me and my dickey knee, must
have been a real sight!). I looked back to see what was
happening, and this guy was fleeing for his life. I took a
short cut to where I was going and Tara came and followed.
All I did was run until I couldn't anymore, went to where
there were some cottages and cried. I felt slightly safer
there, as at least I could knock on someone's door if I
needed help. It took some time for me to walk that
particular stretch again though, and if I ever go back I
always find someone else to go with. Fortunately, I don't
live in that area anymore, I moved to Northampton about 6
months ago.
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Tara's best friends were a fawn coloured Great Dane named
Scooby (unusual heh?), and a red Boxer named Winston. Tara was
extremely boisterous, and these two dogs were also. The rough and
tumble games were always hectic. The Dane could never catch Tara, and
the Boxer always seemed to be too out of breath to catch her. It was
always funny to see them, especially when all three were together. I
was knocked over more than once by the Dane, who I adored unless he
did that. Tara used to run at me, but had greater skill than the Dane
to miss me, which she did with great adeptness. Winston the Boxer
seemed to slobber a lot, and always had great slivers of drool
hanging from his chops after he had been running. He also wanted to
wipe them off on you. (Being chased by a Boxer with drool makes him
look mad and rabid.) Fortunately, he was always out of breath so he
couldn't catch even me!
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Training
Tara was the easiest dog I have ever had to train. It took me less
than 20 seconds to teach her to sit, and she could even read sign
language (no, not that sort!). I had my own methods for training her,
and she never once went to a Barbara Woodhouse school, although I was
ever so tempted with my parents Chow Chows. Yes I grew up with the
canine equivalents of the feline world. The Chow Chows wouldn't do
anything, even if food was involved. It made me very determined to
own my own dog that would actually do as it was told. I used to
think, ' Even if it sits I'll be so glad'. Tara did the lot...on
command!
I could tell her to sit, then come a little way, then sit again,
all with using sign language. She could also do this in response to
voice command. When she was about six years old, I taught her to go
into the kitchen out of the way of visitors that were frightened of
dogs. Every time visitors came, I only needed to open the door (no
voice), and she would go straight in. She was also an absolute joy to
take out. Although she pulled on the lead when she was a puppy, she
didn't do so for long, and even two year olds have taken her out
under close supervision. I had to watch kids like a hawk, because as
soon as they started to run, Tara would too and pull them over.
Tara's party piece was to balance a biscuit, or something else
usually edible, on her nose. Then she would throw it into the air
when you told her she could have it, and then catch it. This normally
went down a storm, especially people that were nervous with dogs to
start with. They used to leave thinking Tara was their best friend.
Now this sounds cruel, but when Tara was small, I insisted that
she couldn't have her dinner until I told her so. I once put her
dinner down, and went wandering around the house, basically to test
her. I ended up sitting down to watch a wildlife programme that had
just come on, and was so engrossed in it that I completely forgot
about Tara. When I did realise however, I was greeted with the
biggest puddle of drool that you can imagine. The kitchen was almost
flooded! I felt very, very guilty, and I never wandered off again.
When Tara was very young, she used to chase cyclists. I got her
out of this eventually, then every time she saw a cyclist or a jogger
she would save me the trouble of calling her to me, and come back to
me anyway.
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The Naughty
Dog!
Yes you're right. Tara wasn't at all whiter than white, and she
did some things that have left me in complete amazement.
All the way through her life, Tara was a glutton. She was forever
raiding the kitchen bin, and learned very quickly how to use the
pedal bin. She once ate a frying pan but left the handle! Another
time she ate a full 4lb tub of catering margarine while I was out,
then sicked some up. One advantage of eating this was that her coat
was really glossy and shiny! Tara even once ate my bed. That's right
folks, my bed. She chewed the middle out of it. This was when my
husband went to kick her, missed, kicked the wall instead, and broke
his big toe. (I was in hysterics at this.)
Tara used to regularly eat my socks and underwear. I would often
see one of my bra's coming out of her rear, and I used to think, 'I
wondered what had happened to that'! She didn't do this when she
became older thank goodness, she would have cost me a fortune.
I frequently found baked bean tins crushed to a pulp. They were so
sharp I could hardly pick them up to put back into the bin. I used to
wonder how the heck she never, ever, damaged her mouth. I used to get
enormous spiders in my house (the only things in Lancashire to
mutate, something to do with Sellafield I think (for US visitors,
Sellafield is one of those 'wonderful?!?' nuclear power plants)) and
Tara used to try to eat them. They must have tasted pretty awful,
because she would leave them, partly chewed and wholly deceased on
the kitchen floor especially for me to remove, yuck! Tara even had a
go at eating a slug some time ago. She looked like she was eating
chewing gum. Tara eventually gave it up as a bad job after 30
minutes, and at least had managed to eat half of it. Yet something
else for me to remove, another yuck.
Tara would even eat my vegetarian chilli. It was so hot it used to
make a hole in the bottom of the pan, but Tara adored it! You could
almost hear it acidifying inside her stomach, and it wasn't a pretty
sight on the way out I can tell you. I once gave Tara a whole panful
that I had just made, as I was going into hospital to have an
emergency operation. It wouldn't have lasted until I got home, so I
thought 'waste not want not'. My friend said that she would look
after Tara for me, and I was duly scolded when I came out of
hospital. It was completely my fault, but Tara, during the night
following the chilli, couldn't wait, and there was stuff all over the
kitchen! My friend had to clean it up, and I was warned about ever
doing it again just in case I had to go back into hospital.
Apparently, Tara had to go for a swim in the garden pond when my
friend let her out, I wonder why? Any ideas?
Tara the
Human!
Tara used to think she was human, but she was also confused about
her sexuality!!
Tara regualrly used to sit on the couch like a human, i.e. bum on
chair, front legs on floor! She also sat on the stairs like this, and
I used to think she was demented! She would also do something rather
naughty with cushions, particularly after she had eaten her main
meal. Tara would also insist on cocking her leg to have a wee! Do you
think she was confused or what?
Whenever Tara had a hide chew with a lace in it, she meticulously
untied the lace, left that, then ate what was left.
Another favourite of hers was to lie down on me when I fell asleep
on the setee. I would wake up gasping for breath, and I would find
this big lumping dog snoring away on top of me.
If Tara could get half the chance to get into bed with you, she
would, literally! She always insisted on getting in from the top end,
and having her head at my feet. Her back end would be towards my
head, but the thing was, I could never move. If I tried to move, she
would grumble, and relunctantly move. She also loved to have a bath
with me, well she liked licking the soap off me if I gave her half
the chance. Tara followed me absolutely everywhere, even to the
toilet. It was just like she was on guard!
Tara was such a joy to own, and I really miss her. I feel that she
will be my 'bestest' ever dog.
Tara noseying out of the window
THE END!
(For now)
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