About This Blog

This blog was originally started as a thread on the forum pages of an animal rescue site. Now it's here!

The articles you find in here are purely for entertainment (yours and mine) and (with one or two exceptions) are all tongue-in-cheek chronicles of the World (my bit, anyway) as I see it.
No disrespect is intended towards anyone unless I make a mistake and make it too obvious.

I hope you enjoy my offerings. Feedback and comments of any kind are welcome.

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Sym: Early Days

We chose June as the time to search for a dog because the kids would not be home. 
Christopher and Gabriele, children from Julie’s previous marriage, would be on holiday with their father and grandparents. It was meant, partly, to be a surprise for them when they returned, but mostly it was to prevent them coming up with any silly or ridiculous names for the puppy. They had already given our cats the names Blossom and Zak.

OK, I could live with Zak ... but Blossom?

Anyway, I wanted to name the new member of our family!

You see, in my mind, the puppy had in fact already been named.

Even before I began my campaign to overcome my wife’s ‘dog-in-the-house’ objections I knew what I wanted to call him.

He would be called Sym.

Many years before, when I was about 8 or 9 years old, my cousin Gavin arrived at our front door. Stuffed inside his jacket was a twelve week old fluffy bundle of black and tan puppy.

He had brought us, against my parent’s express wishes, Sym Mk I.

The Mk I was a gorgeous Border Collie/German Shepherd cross and from the moment he took his first steps on our living room carpet and wagged his tail all parental disapproval evaporated.

I shared many an adventure with him as a child and he has always had his own very special place in my heart. To this day, if I close my eyes, I can still see him.

I can still easily recall how we used to run through the corn fields close to our home or how we would run along the shore with him attacking the waves as they crashed onto the beach.

With vivid memories of Sym Mk I, I desperately hoped that Sym Mk II would achieve the same high standards.

There was no objection from Julie as to the selected name.

“What does it mean?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it means anything, really. It’s just short and snappy and not as common as something like Sam” I explained.

So we arrived home that day with our beautiful puppy and, as he explored his new home, I named him Sym.

As Sym wandered around the house sniffing and, yes, peeing, he was observed by Blossom!

From her vantage point on the back of the sofa, she watched as the interloper sniffed his way around the furniture. The expression on her face was not one of joy!

As Sym disappeared through the door to the hallway, Blossom, already in stealth mode, followed.
She peered after him as his he made his way towards the open back door, her tail swishing this way and that, and there was definitely an air of the hunter about her.

Unexpectedly, Sym turned, just as Blossom made her move to follow him.

He saw her! 

She saw that she had been seen. 

His tail wagged. 

So did hers!

She waited. 

He watched. 

His intention was play. 

Her was murder!

Sym barrelled through the hall on a direct line to Blossom. She did that cat thing and made herself big. Sym yapped his pleasure at having found a friend to play with. Blossom raised a paw and gave Sym such a slap that he rolled sideways and yelped.

Blossom had just established herself as top of the pecking order in this house!

As she strutted away, confident that the interloper now knew his place, Sym cautiously followed.

From that moment on, Sym, although still seemingly desperate to play with her, had a respect for Blossom which would never dwindle!


  1. Good story ! I could see it all perfectly in my minds eye.
    Pup came to our home as a 14 week old puppy and our 17 year old cat was there waiting for a playmate. Well, maybe a nap mate.
    They were best friends from the first, the cat loved sleeping in Pups crate, Pup shared his food, they both shared our hearts.
    I miss them both so very much. I know how much you miss your Sym and Blossom too.

    1. Still missing Sym and always will. Blossom though still stamps her authority on the household and on all that therein dwell.

  2. You perfectly describe the psychology between dogs and cats. I hope the pain from your loss is easing a bit, even though I realize it will never go away completely.

    1. It still saddens me when I take Clover to the park. It's the only place she can go and feel at ease. In the past she was always there with Sym and Sox so did not suffer from one of her panic attack. She still runs to all the places where Sym would run into or out of the woods and wags her tail hoping to see him.

  3. It's funny how dogs are very concerned with hierarchies.

    1. At the end of the day it's all about who gets the bone


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