A very expensive dog.

Most people at some time in their life think of getting a dog. If you have never owned one it can be a big step. That little ball of cuddly softness grows into a rampaging machine that eats everything it can get hold of.

Murphy was a black Labrador. He was a long sleek one as opposed to a short squat one. He had literally unlimited energy. You only needed to mention the word ‘walk’ and he was almost incandescent with joy. You could walk him for six man miles-12 dog miles at least- and yet if the opportunity arose he would repeat the process ad infinitum.

He had his own rules re behaviour. He had a delightful temperament but forget anything like ‘fetch and drop’. Just not for him. We sent him for training for a month but when he returned he might occasionally respond to whistle, but normally not. I used to ride my motor bike around the country lanes where we lived in Mackerye End with Murph following me in order to tire him out. It did not work.

He used to howl on occasion like a wolf. I never found out why but many neighbours assumed we were mistreating him in some way-we certainly were not. Then there was the disappearing acts. Maybe once a month or so he would go missing. Perhaps after a day or so a phone would ring and we would be told that “Murphy is with us” by someone who had found him taken him in and read his collar.

The thing was you could not predict this disappearing trick and none of us liked the idea of keeping this wonderful animal tied up.

He had one party trick he was the best ‘back row forward’ dog on the planet. I would kick a rugby ball to Tom. Murph would hare after it and just as Tom was preparing to kick the ball back to me Murph would take off and do all he could do block the kick. It made for hours and hours of fun and it also meant that in match situations Tom became adept at sidestepping, like a matador any onrushing forward in a match situation. Playing cricket with him around was a no no as he would never give up the ball. He would just slobber it to extinction.

One night he went walk about. The following day no calls and we began to worry. Search parties were sent out and we visited all the haunts he had been to in the past. Finally one Sunday morning Liz and I and two tearful children visited our local dog pound. A we drove in, there in an outdoor cage was a very sad looking Murphy. We ran into the office and identified the dog. The woman behind the counter gave us a lecture and suggested we might like to ‘support’ the facility by making a donation. liz gave me the check book and something in my delirium of joy caused me to write a check -for a large amount of money. I handed it over and the woman gulped. Off we all set Murphy not sure if he was in trouble or what.

Back Home I reflected on my generosity and I looked at Murph and he looked back. I loved that dog beyond words.