off site links
When you called me and told me about Inde I burst
into tears on the train.
Alot of the other passengers were giving me sympathetic glances and no doubt
thought one of my closest relatives had just died - which just about
describes how I feel.
I spent the rest of the trip back, and most of last night thinking
and this is what came to mind. Writing it down like this gives me a sense of
The very first time I saw Inde mum and dad said "Leighton
we have a surprise
for you." This was followed by a "cooooooooome on then" and a bounding
scampering sound of paws on the lino.
Inde was such a gentle dog that never, in her whole life, showed
even a hint
of aggression towards any of us (despite provocation at times). When Cory
was born she took great care around him, sniffed him a bit and sat with him
quietly, even when he used to climb all over her and pull at her ears. (I
think that's on video somewhere).
We all saw how strong she was, how she could kill rabbits and mice and how
she chewed some of her toys to bits and munched her way through those solid
flaks. But when you placed your hand right into her mouth for a playfight
(as I often did) she would growl menacingly but clamp her teeth on you in a
gentle way that wouldn't hurt you.
Her energy was incredible. So playful and curious. I used to hide
in the house and shout "biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiindy" and listen as she came
thumping up the stairs (whether it be Poleshill, Crantarra, Beverley Hills,
Sweethope) and sprinting back and forth, desperately trying to find me. And
then when she did she'd get a treat (but not before a quick session of 'sit'
- 'paw' - 'round' - 'up!')
I've never known a dog to have so many names. Inde - Bindy - Bind
Bindersfarne - Yiiind (to name but a few) - and to be so expressive when
addressed. A "biiiiind" would usually make her sit upright in a lightning
bolt of alertness with 'helicopter ears' as we called it. A (deep low tone)
" What you bind and done?" or "You bad doggy" and they would flop down
guiltily. "Wassis then?" would usually send her into a lip licking frenzy as
she anticipated some treat or scrap of food. She had bags of personality.
And she loved to go on walks. Sometimes she'd come back so black,
head to toe in mud (and other things) that mum would need two towels to
cover her. One for her legs and bum, the other over the top of her. Then
she'd be carried upstairs, (her nose sticking out from underneath the
towells) to the bath where she'd obediently sit while she was hosed down.
When she eventually came soaring down the stairs (she always went a bit mad
after a bath) she was so clean and so fluffy she felt like the clouds you
see in cartoons.
She loved to be active but she also loved to chill out and rest.
spoiled her by rubbing her tummy she would flop into the 'stuffed chicken'
pose, lying on her back with her paws down on her chest and her 'fang'
hanging down from her mouth. Totally content.
When I got back from India I spent a few months in Sweethope where
her out almost every day. The weather was fine and I'd go atop the hill and
read my books. She was such good company - When she'd worn herself out
exploring she would come and sit by me, staring up at me and just panting
that satisfied look.
I'm really glad that I got to see ehr again this Christmas even
wasn't her usual self. It's so strange that she died the day we left and
that almost all of us were there during her last few days. Kind of like she
waited for us to come back or something.
Everybody thinks their pets are the best in the world but Inde
one in a million and we'll never forget her. I'm going to try and dig out a
picture of her so she can be added to our wall of fame.
Thanks again for a nice Christmas.