your dog is always happy to see you
A NOTE ON DOGS
AS A KID, MY dad always had a dog. I think that Dad preferred the company of animals to humans. In fact, even his human friends were like animals when I think about it. Dad would sit out on the back porch after getting home drunk and fighting with Mum, and he would talk to the dog. Maybe the dog was the only one who didn’t judge him. The only one who didn’t talk back. Anyway, Mum wouldn’t let us talk to him when she was fighting with him, so the dog was the only friend he had. My dad was a fighter and never thought twice about hurting another man, but he could never hurt an animal. Dogs were his favourite.
I DON’T THINK THAT a home is complete without a dog around. They remind me of what real love is. Never judging, your dog is always happy to see you, always ready to run to you and accept you as you are. Maybe that’s why I love them. Because they have never had to forgive me.
Our first family dog was Theo, a cattle dog-border collie-lab cross. By the time Theo died he was like a coffee table, wide and flat across the back. Theo was gentle and patient with the children. He was never a problem to have around. I even took Theo on tour with me. He would hide in the car until the receptionist wasn’t looking, then I would sneak him in and he would stay in the room with me. He used to lay on the bed and watch TV when I was out working. I used to joke that he could watch Lassie while I was out. When he died the whole family went into mourning. He was one of us and we still think of him. I get misty when I see his photo.
When the kids were small I got two very big dogs. I thought we needed them for security. But you can’t really have a dog for security and have small children around at the same time. We had Rhontu, a huge Rottweiler. He weighed about twelve stone, maybe more. This was a big, fierce-looking dog. Then I got Jessica. She was a bull mastiff and looked like a short-nosed alligator. Either of these dogs could have killed you. But they were docile and child friendly. The kids used to ride on their backs. But I would never leave them alone. Just in case. One bite could have been fatal.
THESE DAYS I HAVE two miniature schnauzers. I always wanted big dogs before these guys. The bigger the better. I felt safer when I had them around. I think that was a leftover from my mum’s constant worrying about being attacked. But now I can look after myself. Besides, I have grown out of my fears a little. My boys, Ollie and Snoop, are my best mates. They go everywhere with me. Except on tour. I don’t want them to be away from home. They would miss it too much. I think I am projecting onto them a little here. I got these guys after meeting Jep and Mark’s dog Rufus. Rufus was their big brother and had to be the coolest dog I had ever met. So I decided I would get one. I asked the breeder for a black puppy and when the day came for delivery, she turned up with a basket full of puppies. I was handed my little black dog, who we had decided would be called Snoop Dog. I asked in passing if the others had homes. She looked at me and said, ‘All but this one. No one wants him.’
There was a little fat guy sitting in the corner alone. He was the runt. I loved him immediately. ‘I’ll take him too. What shall we call him, kids?’ They decided on Oliver Twist because he was an orphan.
My dogs have sat with me while I wrestled with my childhood. They guarded over me while I recovered from heart surgery. They have watched me fall apart and then watched as I rebuilt my life. They have shared the good, the bad and the ugly with me. Never once have they judged me. Oliver even bit one of my gay friends when he came into my room while I was sick. I laughed and told my mate he was guarding my honour. My mate now tells the world that my dog is homophobic. But he’s not. He just loves me. My dogs have sat and listened as I read my books to them before anyone else. If the dogs liked them, I’d be okay.
I find that I can’t be away from home now because I miss them too much. Once we were on holidays in Europe. We were staying at one of the best hotels in the world in Paris when I turned to Jane and said, ‘I miss my boys too much. I want to go home.’ Jane laughed at me and started packing. We cut our holidays short by two weeks so we could be home with our dogs. It is very hard to even go on tour these days. And just like my dad and his dog, when Jane and I fight, the boys still talk to me. Thank God for that.