Penny

This is the only photo I have of Penny.  My mother and sister Robyn are standing behind her.

Penny was the first dog I owned.  I received her for my fifth birthday, but she was really a family pet.  We were very lucky the owner told my father a small fib about Penny's ancestors, if they'd know the truth they never would have bought Penny.  The owner said Penny would grow into a medium sized dog because she was a German Shepherd/Border Collie cross.  With this assurance my parents paid for Penny and brought her home.  Needless to say my sister Beth and I were thrilled to have this little pup join our family.  We already owned a rabbit and cat, but in our house there was always room for another pet.  

It soon became evident that there was very little, if any Border Collie in Penny.  She started to grow and she put all her effort into it, soon becoming a very large dog indeed, in fact Penny grew into the largest dog on our street, which was quite an accomplishment.  It turned out that Penny was an Airedale/German Shepherd cross and my family began to believe she was the product of the largest specimens of these two breeds.

Penny soon grew into a beautiful, devoted friend and looked on my sisters and me as her pups.  She played with us, ate whatever we tried to feed her - sometimes with a very long suffering look because we'd feed her grass or fruit or lettuce and other non-dog type food.  Penny grew up with a rabbit (Whisky) and a cat (Tibby) who were both adults when Penny arrived as a naive little pup.  The older two pets traded on Penny's naivety and convinced her that dogs, no matter how large they grew, were at the bottom of the pet pecking order and that was where they stayed.  I remember lots of games with my three pets where Penny always took care not to hurt any of us, despite her superior size and weight over all of us.  To watch this large dog, frolic around a small rabbit and cat and gently bowl them over with her nose and then run as fast as she could before the victim righted itself was one of my lasting memories of Penny.  Seeing her curled up asleep, snuggled up to a black and white rabbit and a tabby cat didn't seem strange to me - that was just normal behaviour for my three pets.

Penny was the best dog - she looked on my sisters and me as her responsibility, to keep safe no matter who the aggressor was and at times to gently correct our bad behaviour. She wouldn't let any harm come to all her charges. She actually put herself between me and my father on one memorable occasion, when I was little and Dad was after me for something I'd done wrong. She came running when she heard Dad roaring at me. Penny stood in front of me and stared him down, raising her hackles on her back slightly to show she meant business, but she didn't growl or make any threats. She just stood there and wouldn't let him get past her to reach me. Dad decided the dog was supposed to protect us so he walked away, not at all happy about it, but I gave Penny an extra tight hug for coming to my rescue. I still get tears in my when I remember her standing between us, defending me.

Penny was always available when I was sad. Many times when I was feeling hard done by, or was upset about a genuine grievance, I'd sit with my arms around Penny, telling her my woes and often crying into her fur. Penny sat beside me for as long as I needed, gently wagging her tail to cheer me up, and would occasionally lick my hand or wherever she could reach in a show of solidarity with me. As I grew up, Penny became the repository for all my teenage angst, listening quietly and wagging her tail to show me it would all be better soon. Penny would fret if I cried, be it while telling her my troubles, or if she heard me crying somewhere else. If she wasn't with me when I started to cry, she very quickly made sure she was by my side to offer comfort. Sometimes in her effort to comfort me I'd end up knocked over and lying on the ground while Penny stood over me with a very concerned look on her face. I'd haul myself up, using Penny as support, and do my best to stop crying because it was upsetting her so much. Once I was no longer weepy, Penny would stay by my side for a long time, wherever I went, just to be sure I was OK.

One day, we were quite young, my sister and I were sent to the corner shop to buy a few groceries. I suppose I would have been about six years old at the time. Back then parents thought nothing of sending a six year old and a four year old off to cross a couple of quiet avenue streets and buy whatever was needed. We usually took Penny with us, but on this occasion we didn't for some reason. On the way we encountered a group of boisterous teenagers who were sitting on a fence chatting and laughing. When we approached them they stood along the width of the path and verge and linked arms, stopping us from passing them - they were just having fun, but they seemed so big and scary to me. My sister and I ran home as fast as we could and told Nana. Nana simply told us to take Penny with us and we'd be fine. I knew if Penny was there I could be a lot braver and we headed off with Penny walking beside us while Nana stood at the gate and watched and as we approached the teenagers again. They were back sitting on a fence but when they saw us approach they moved to the path again and linked arms to stop us from passing. Penny moved from beside us to in front of us, raised her hackles, dropped her head and stalked towards them. I remember the sound of her nails clicking on the concrete as she approached the now quiet teenagers. That's all it took - one very large, protective dog daring them to start something. The teenagers opened up like a gate and we kept walking to the shops. The teenagers walked down to where Nana was still watching and told her they were just having fun Nana told them the dog had meant business so it was wise of them to let us past.

Penny big vice was chasing cars. We did our best to keep her in the backyard, away from temptation but our house was built on brick piers and Penny often found a way under the house and out to the front yard. We lived on a blind corner and I dreaded the day Penny and a car met head on. Thankfully this never happened and Penny remained triumphant, warning all strange cars away from her territory. Even though chasing cars was one of Penny's favourite pastimes, she wouldn't let us girls anywhere near the road. When walking with us to the shop or a friend's place Penny became a very strict guardian. She always walked on the grass verge beside the path, closest to the road. Penny never chased cars when she was with us and always looked straight ahead, resisting temptation while on babysitting duty. We tried many times to walk between Penny and the road, but Penny remained firm - the cement path was the place for children and on the cement path we would stay or Penny would take action to make sure we did. Occasionally we'd wander slightly off the path closer to the road only to be met with a large, furry hip that would give a little swish in our direction and the next thing we knew we were shunted back on the path. Despite our many efforts to tease her by moving off the path Penny never relented, even when we were teenagers and Penny was an old dog. Thankfully, Penny gave up chasing cars when she became elderly and preferred to while away the hours snoozing in the sun or in front of our heater in cooler weather.

When Penny was in her prime we discovered that she had another bad habit. One afternoon a man knocked on our door and asked Nana if she could lock "that big dog" up in the morning and evening when he was riding by on his bicycle to and from work. He told Nana that each day, as he rode by and slowed down for the corner outside our house, Penny would be lying in wait for him. As he slowed down, Penny would dart out onto the road and grab his back wheel with her teeth. He would then go sailing over the handle bars, and as this man told Nana, Penny would then laugh at him. That was all she did - once he got back on his bike she let him go. We thought it unbelievable that Penny would have the jaw strength to accomplish such a feat, but this man assured Nana that Penny certainly did. Thankfully she somehow never managed to puncture his tyre. He didn't hold any ill will against our dog, in fact I think he admired her strength and sense of humour, but he was sick of being catapulted off his bicycle. Penny was duly tied up morning and night and the poor cyclist as left in peace.

About the only enemy Penny ever made was the coalman. Back when I was young, we had a coal fire in the winter and had regular deliveries of coal brought to our backyard, by the coalman. On one of his earlier visits he'd encountered Penny who was tied up but barking at him, because she had an innate disapproval of strangers on her territory. He heaved the coal sack around and hit Penny on the head with it. Nana came rushing out and gave him a piece of her mind, and when my Nana gave you a piece of her mind you knew you were in deep trouble. He put the coal sack where it belonged and left. From then on whenever he delivered coal, Penny, who obviously felt Nana had dealt with the coalman far too leniently, strained at the end of her chain, barking and making threats the coalman knew she would carry out if that chain was just a bit lighter. The coalman was silly enough to complain to Nana, who was firmly on Penny's side, about Penny's behaviour and Nan simply told him he'd brought it on himself and he now had to live with it.

Despite these incidents I've mentioned where Penny raised her hackles or in the case of the coalman, made genuine threats, Penny was a gentle, loving dog. She only showed her meaner side when in defence of her children (or hit with a sack of coal). Penny was often found at the bottom of a pile of children when friends came over to play and she enjoyed every minute of our games. As more children were born in our family (I have three sisters), Penny would sniff the new arrival all over, sigh a deep sigh and add another to her list of responsibilities.

Penny lived to a very old age. I'd married and left home when she was in her later years. I missed her every day I didn't see her, but she always made a big fuss of me when I visited my family. Penny would bustle up to the front door as soon as she heard my voice on the other side, walk up to me with her tail wagging and a big grin on her face. She had cataracts by then, so she mostly went on sound and smell but she never missed a chance to greet me and remember old times.

Every child should grow up with a pet like Penny. She offered unconditional love, boundless patience with little girls and their friends, a warm heart and a strong shoulder to lean on when needed. I was privileged to share have her in my life and her role in my growing years was responsible for my development of my love for animals that exists today.