On these pages some of our members pay their own personal tribute to dogs they have owned and loved and worked within the Society. If you would like to have a tribute to your own dog included here (with or without a photograph), please get in touch with us.

Sadly Dave and I had to have Aztec put to sleep in February when he suddenly lost the use of his back legs. He was fine when I took him up the garden with Odin first thing, got in the car to go for a walk and just collapsed when he got out of the car. We tried him on steroids but to no avail. Odin misses him but seems to have accepted that he has gone, which I put down to the fact that he saw Aztec once he was asleep. I would recommend this to anyone who has more than one dog and where circumstances allow.

Aztec was a good friend - I had hoped to be able to do more with him in competition than I did but circumstances did not let this happen. However I thoroughly enjoyed working him at the progress tests and at matches, where he could work quite well when he fancied doing so! I think one of the highlights of his working career was the fun 'C' round that we did together at the progress tests even though he was getting on a bit by then.

He was always keen to please and was no trouble to have around. I'm pleased that Odin was able to share at least a year with Aztec.

Aztec - I hope you now have a new pair of back legs and enjoy running with all your old friends.

Gilly Norris

CARNEY

Parisway Shining Deneb

Today I went to Oxhey Open Show.  Last year I entered Carney.  It would have been her first show.  But, in three short weeks she went from lively 2 year old with a promising obedience career to a weak, pain-racked soul.  It broke my heart to see her pain.  Cancer is a merciless disease.  She was a pretty girl but the cancer took her beauty away.  I could do nothing for her.  We let her go on 15th March 2002 .

Having lost 4 dogs in 5 years I thought I could handle it - but this was something different.  I had to put her pictures away because I could only remember her death, not her life.

Now, a year on, I think I am ready to remember her for what she was.  She was so different from any other dogs I have known.

People said I was mad to get a Tervueren.  She was certainly a horrible puppy!  She was naughty as they come…  But she grew into a wonderful family dog.  She was the children’s real-life teddy bear.  She was a strange conflicting mixture of loyalty and independence.  She was wary but outgoing, determined but under-confident, cuddly but aloof.  A complex character, she definitely wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea! 

Carney taught me so much.  Challenged what I thought I knew.  You can’t push a Terv around – or so I found out.  I had to find new ways to communicate and train.  She taught me to follow my instincts rather than convention.  She had more of an impact on me in her short life than any of my other dogs.  Those that follow have a tough act to follow!

Now I think I am ready to select a picture of Carney that doesn’t show the cancer.  I’m ready to treasure the memory of my beautiful girl.

Carney 1/2/2000 – 15/3/2002

Alison Caldwell-Nichols

CHESTER

(Brambletyne Domingo)

25/07/94 – 28/12/05

28/12/05, the day I’ve dreaded forever, came, and I lost the best friend I’ve ever had.

Chester, having been given a provisional diagnosis of lymphoma just a week earlier, was given sleep. The cancer came and took hold very quickly, and I made the very hard, decision to let him go, peacefully, painlessly, with dignity, and in my arms.

They say that everyone has a once in a lifetime dog, Chester was mine. He was my golden child, my wonder dog, my whole life and my very special beautiful boy, who opened doors to a new world and broadened my horizons. He made me laugh (everyday), he made me proud, he was beauty and brains personified; to me, there is not another dog on this earth that comes close to him, he was quite simply, my Chesty.

He exploded into my life on a sunny September day back in 1994, at the tender age of seven weeks, he’d already stolen my heart at five weeks and it was an intense love affair ever since. He was the original puppy from hell, a real wild child, whose sole aim in life was to be as naughty as possible, but after being a honey-monster all day, he’d crawl upon my lap, give me a goofy grin and a kiss, and my heart just melted.     

We started off doing basic pet obedience, trying to channel all that naughtiness into something positive, discovered we were quite good at it (well he was) and the rest as they say is history.

He didn’t get to the top of his field, peaking at the Beginner/Novice level, but he loved working, his ol’ tail didn’t stop wagging as we went through our paces. We were as comfortable and easy together as an old married couple, we were a team; a perfect match and he just made it so easy for me. He represented the club in thirty league matches (clocking up 12 firsts & 6 seconds), won cups in the progress tests, was placed many times in open obedience shows but more importantly than any of that, he was a lovely good natured, generous, gentle dog, who was full of fun, had a wicked sense of humour, lived life to the full and in the fast lane and made me so very proud to call mine.

He was always a clown, and more than capable of doing a ‘comic turn’ in the ring, anyone who remembers him working in the club’s higher progress tests, will know exactly what I mean, he just loved to be funny and would play to the audience.

The only negative thing about him was his destructiveness when separated from me, the list of items that have been ‘Chestified’ over the years are too numerous to mention, but I do remember hoovering up pillow feathers for weeks and also owning pyjama bottoms with one leg chewed shorter than the other.

It’s been a privilege and an honour to share my life with him and he leaves me with 11 ½ years of wonderful memories, although at this moment, they don’t seem nearly enough.  It was hard when I retired him, for us both, but harder still, now, as I face life without him by my side. I loved him with such a passion, for who he was and just for being him and I miss him deeply, everyday.

Chesty, wherever you are, and I know you’re busy destroying something but be sure – I will find you.

Helen Frost

HUDSON 

CDex, UDex, WD open

Seven years was not enough time to enjoy my Hud, but we did have such a lot of fun together.

He had a large fan club and I was so proud of him. He was so keen - and frustrated with me for not being quick enough for him! He introduced me to Working Trials and we both loved it. (Oh, to have been 20 years younger!)

I share so many memories with Beth as her Solo was Hud's best friend. I can't believe she died two weeks after him. They were special and taught us such a lot.

Well, Tarka, my lad, you've got a lot to live up to!

Tanya Whorwood

JAMIE

Owlsridge Gold Dust Of Raglyn 

Sadly we had to say goodbye to Jamie at just twelve years and seven months, which is considered to be a reasonable life span for a Welsh Corgi.

Apart from the ladies who helped with the outdoor catering for the Working Trials, which was based in my kitchen for the first three years, I would imagine he was not well known generally in the club.

He was always a quiet, unobtrusive, independent little dog, nevertheless very loyal and never far from my heels, particularly when I was dealing with food. Although he never forced his presence on anyone, he was always there in the background and thoroughly enjoyed any attention bestowed on him by visitors. I feel he was inevitably dominated by each of his female companions over the years, who tended to grab all the limelight.

In the early days we had lots of fun going around the shows where he acquired over 100 awards, many of them in First place. Unfortunately following his first win at Championship level disaster struck with a recurring prostate problem, culminating in the inevitable operation which completely ruined his chances of ever becoming a Champion. In future it was always further down the line, but still rarely unplaced. This activity also provided the opportunity to meet other corgi owners from various parts of he country, making many good friends in the process. Thank you Jamie for all of this!

He liked a regular routine and really looked forward to his daily walks, but had his own ideas about which direction we took and preferred to keep to his familiar routes, particularly latterly when he would look at me with dismay if I wanted to go somewhere different! Needless to say he is very sadly missed by both Gemma and myself.

back to top

Margaret Jones

Tarragon Lively Rhythm

(26.9.1986 - 13.8.1999)

Jaspa was given sleep on Friday 13 August to save him any further suffering from acute kidney failure. His family and Sue Chorlton had fought with medication to keep him going for over a year, after he developed a severe heart complaint.

Jaspa was bought as a friend for Katherine and enjoyed his obedience training, winning all classes from pre-beginner to A inclusive in the annual progress tests. He then entered the world of obedience shows where through the beginner classes he won two and was placed third, fourth and sixth place four times. He then progressed to novice, winning one and being placed fourth twice, and sixth place twice. He also represented the society in obedience matches. As an added interest for him, he learned to track and search and entered a working trials veteran stake, which he enjoyed very much.

He was a very affectionate and much loved member of the family for John, June and Katherine for almost thirteen years, and he was the best friend of Samson and Murphy, and he will be sadly missed.

back to top

June Brine

SOLO

Solo, my beloved GSD/Dobermann crossbreed, died on 28th September 2000 from a heart attack while we were on holiday.  It was too difficult to write about her at the time, and is not much easier now, but I did just want to pass on a few words about her to her friends.

WHY SOLO

Why Solo?  People used to say

We called you Solo because your daft flapping ears looked like wings as if you were ‘flying solo’

But it could have been because you were a one off, or an only dog

Or because you loved singing (anyone who ever joined you in a down stay will know what I mean!).

Why Solo?  Did you have such funny habits

Chasing a grape could give you half an hour of fun

Frightening the life out of visitors at the door

But licking them and loving them once they had been accepted into our home

Why Solo?  Did you tease me so much in training

Conning me into thinking we were coming on so well

And then proving me so very wrong every time we attempted the same in public

How everyone laughed when you played me up so often

Why Solo?  Did you sometimes run off on our walks

Mostly your eyes focused just on me and the Kong

Then suddenly noticing a far off spec that could be worth chasing

Running off like a greyhound and hurtling back just as fast

Why Solo?  Did you leave us so suddenly

With no chance to say our goodbyes

After seven eventful years together

When you adapted to changes so well at every turn

Why Solo?  Can you be with me no more

When you were everything to me –

Beautiful  Solo – guardian, playmate, confidante, surrogate mother

and wonderful friend

I treasure all our memories and will love and miss you always

back to top

Beth Bennett

VASCAR

Northall Buzzard CDx UDx WD

I had always wanted a German Shepherd, for as long as I can remember. When my personal circumstances changed such that having a dog was a viable option, I started looking round for a suitable puppy. And so Vascar* came into my life.

I had already been introduced by friends to Aylesbury Canine, in the form of being taken to watch some tracking at the annual Working Trials progress tests and at Oxford Championship trial (which at that time was run and staffed exclusively by Aylesbury members). I marvelled at seeing some superb nose work, and couldn't wait to join this lively crowd who seemed to work magic with their happy dogs.

We started attending Wednesday evening puppy training, Vascar and I. From the very first he demonstrated a trait that was to continue throughout his life - he enjoyed working, and training was great fun, to be undertaken with a great deal of noise, and very often more enthusiasm than skill. So much noise, in fact, that for a while we were asked to stay off the floor - 'let him grow up and calm down a little', we were advised.

We persevered, and when he had grown up a bit and calmed down just a very little, we were asked to represent the society at Starters level in an obedience match against another dog club. Vascar sensed the occasion, and amply and vocally demonstrated his enthusiasm for the task in hand. So much so that the judge, a man of very many years experience who should have known better, advised me that if I ever wanted to do anything with my dog I should 'knock the enjoyment out of him. He shouldn't have fun while he's working!' - a stupid remark from a crass and uninformed man, who had no business to be judging others if he held that view. Training by reprimand and punishment has no place in today's world (did it ever?), but should be by reward and encouragement. A dog should do what it is trained to do because it enjoys doing it, and because it knows it is pleasing it's handler. As a pack animal, one of a dog's main functions in life is to please the pack leader - you!

But I digress. It wasn't long before we were introduced to working trials from the inside, and started training regularly on Sundays. From the very beginning Vascar demonstrated that he had a very keen nose, but his enthusiasm for the jumps tended to be a weakness. Once he learnt what was required of him in a sendaway, that became by far his favourite exercise, and throughout his trials career he had many more full mark sendaways than not. There was one notable occasion, which highlights Vascar's sense of fun and sheer devilment. He had hardly started his trials career when we travelled north to Yorkshire to compete is his first UD open trial. The control was in a nice grassy field, and the sendaway was parallel to a hedge, about 100 meters from it, to a three foot motorway cone about 140 meters away. We were working the control in the reverse of the tracking order, and were the last to go. We watched many of the young dogs veer off the intended line and finish up in the hedge (they had possibly only ever been trained to a hedge in sendaways - a common mistake, as is the training of a send to exercise rather than a send away). Vascar watched in eager anticipation, and with a slight air of superiority - he didn't intend to get caught out like that!

At last our turn came for the control round, and I felt Vascar worked well, obtaining sufficient marks to qualify in each section. The sendaway was the last exercise in the control round. He had done well in the nosework the previous day, and I thought our first UD qualification was in the bag. The judge (who was also doing his own stewarding) instructed me what was required in the sendaway. We walked forward, and I set up Vascar, and gave him the instruction, 'away!'. Off he went at his best pace, straight as an arrow, right up to the cone. 'Down' I commanded. He looked at me as thought I was getting muddle headed, and grabbed the top of the cone in his mouth. 'Down' I commanded again, and he started to pull on the cone. I hadn't realised before, but it was secured through the centre with a lamp iron, hammered a foot or more into the ground. Vascar tugged and I yelled, each winding the other up. Eventually Vascar tugged the cone free of it's moorings, and after getting a firm grip, proceeded to retrieve it back to me. I was thoroughly embarrassed, sensing disqualification or worse, but all my fellow competitors were enjoying themselves hugely. The judge was the only one who kept his composure.

Vascar arrived back in front of me in a (near) perfect front present, and sat, cone still clenched firmly. I heard a voice just over my right shoulder say 'take it', and automatically I reached out for the cone, which Vascar surrendered with a flick of the tail, and, I almost thought, a conspiratorial wink. Expecting withering comment from the judge, and humiliation in front of the crowd, I was hardly aware of the voice behind me commanding 'finish'. On cue Vascar did as he was bid, and the judge's 'exercise finished' brought a round of applause from my fellow competitors. Still expecting some form of censure from the judge, I waited to be told our marks. His comment? 'Lovely sendaway, but I'm going to have to dock you one point for lack of control at the far end." The result? Vascar took first place, as well as best nosework trophy, thus gaining his first UD open qualification.

On another occasion at a UD championship in the west country he demonstrated his determination to do the job in hand, no matter what. The control field was a thistle ridden piece of set-aside, and it seemed the judge had reserved the thickest patch through which to hold the sendaway - in the direction of, but not as far as, a pile of logs about 250 meters away. It so happened that also entered at this particular trial was a very experienced handler, one of the elder statesman of working trials, bringing on a new young dog. He worked just before us. He set up his dog and sent it away, only for the dog to stop short a few feet away, and refuse to go through the thistles. Eventually the handler's experience paid off, and he managed to persuade the dog to tiptoe some distance by circumnavigating the worst patches. Eventually the judge had seen enough, and told the handler to recall his dog. When our turn came I set up Vascar and sent him off, and he ploughed through the thistles in the required direction, for the only full mark sendaway of the trial. At the presentation afterwards (another first place) the experienced handler sidled up to me and asked how I trained my dog to do sendaways through thistles! I was so amazed at being asked for advice by this well respected old-timer that I gave away my training secret - we just practised sendaways on our daily walks in thistle strewn fields at home!

Another form of vegetation which, when we encountered it for the first time, I thought would seriously impede Vascar's ability to work was heather. We first came across this in a working situation at a CD championship trial near the south coast. There is no track in the CD stake, but there is a 15 yard search square, from which the dog has to retrieve three articles within four minutes, and at this particular trial the heather was over two feet tall, and very thick. It was also in full flower, and sticky with nectar. When I sent Vascar in, instead of trying to air scent above the vegetation, he put his head down below the cover  so that all I could see of him was the ridge of his back and his tail, whipping with excitement. The upshot was that he retrieved all three articles in turn, and brought them out of the square to me, in well under a minute. A salutary lesson for me that what I perceived as difficult conditions were no problem whatever for the dog. But he didn't much enjoy being smeared head to tail in heather honey!

An incident, again in thick heather but this time on a Scottish moor, serves to highlight Vascar's dedication to the job in hand even over his sense of fun. We were at a UD open trial, and during the search square Vascar put up a rabbit, which bounded away. Vascar looked at me in hope for permission to give chase, but a firm 'no' soon had him concentrating again on what he was there for.

When he was less than four years old, Vascar started to develop canine degenerative reticulo-myelitis (CDRM), a muscle wasting condition of the hind quarters. This is quite a different thing from hip displacure, which is a common problem in German Shepherds - in fact Vascar had very good hip scores of 2 and 4. Our vet diagnosed the CDRM in it's very early stages, and advised that with proper treatment and youth on his side, Vascar could grow out of it. Fortunately, he did.

Looking at his record on paper, many people would say that Vascar was not a successful dog. After all, he never qualified above WD open in working trials, and he never worked above test A in obedience. But Vascar taught me far more than I ever taught him, and if I had been more experienced, or if he had been worked by a different handler, I am sure that he could have got right to the top. As it was, my inexperience held him back, and his working life was cut cruelly short by a recurring shoulder injury. This was aggravated by the scale in working trials, and each time it happened it was slightly worse, and took slightly longer to heal. There was no other sensible alternative but to retire him before the injury became permanent. 

The retirement came at a comparatively young age. We had qualified out of UDx, but were already entered in one more UD championship trial in the midlands. The weekend before we were entered in our first WD open in East Anglia, where Vascar not only qualified, but was awarded best track and did yet another full mark sendaway. However, he seemed reluctant to do the jumps, and refused to come back over the scale. He was remembering the past injuries, and was beginning to loose his confidence. At the UD championship trial the following weekend, Vascar completed a confident track and search square, which won him the best nosework trophy. On the following day, however, he showed signs of unease as we entered the control field, and for the second time in a week and only the second time in his life a marked unease at the prospect of jumping. He had lost his confidence, and just as important, his enthusiasm. Fearful of further injury, I made the decision there and then to retire him. As we walked off the control field, did I imagine it, or did I sense a feeling of relief in him?

During his working career, Vascar was awarded a total of 69 placings (1st-4th), and just over half of these (36) were for first place. These came from exemption shows, club matches, working trials, and annual progress tests in obedience and working trials. He won trophies for first place, best nosework, most progress during the year in working trials, and at the annual fun day. He also competed by invitation three years running in the annual BAGSD North v South match, and on a number of occasions represented Aylesbury Canine in obedience matches against other clubs, and ASPADS in working trials matches.

In the last few years of his life, the CDRM returned to haunt us, and this time treatment was ineffective. I watched helplessly as gradually Vascar lost most of the use of his rear legs, but he was seldom if ever in pain from it. He also developed arthritis, but the agonising pain from this was held in check by the use of homeopathy. Right up until just a few weeks before the end he was still enjoying his short daily walks, and was always game for a laugh. He enjoyed being ragged and teased by Trooper, his young companion. 

When the end came, we were away on holiday at the coast, a place which Vascar had always loved since, at a few months of age, he had chased rabbits on the sand dunes in the Outer Hebrides. The first rabbit he ever caught squealed so loudly that Vascar let it go in surprise and embarrassment. For many years afterwards he enjoyed chasing rabbits, but was always very careful not to get too close, in case one squealed again and caused him further embarrassment and loss of dignity!

And so in late April 2001 we sat, Vascar and I, on a grassy knoll in the spring sunshine in the dunes, watching Trooper chasing the rabbits as Vascar had done so many years before. We were only 50 yards from the car, as far as he was able to walk on a good day. It was almost as though Vascar made up his mind, sitting there in the sun, that he was going to be leaving me in good hands with Trooper, and that evening I started to sense that he was asking me to let him go. Now I know that will sound fanciful to many of you, and up until then I had been sceptical myself that a dog could have conveyed this kind of message, despite having heard it said on a number of occasions by people who had been through the experience. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't, and I know the whole notion is highly un-scientific.

The following morning the message from Vascar was quite unmistakable. I drove the dogs down onto the beach, hoping that a short walk and some sea air would make him feel better, but he wouldn't even get out of the car. He lay there with pleading deep in his toffee-coloured eyes, and I knew, hard as it was for me, that this was one last favour I could do for him. After all the good times that he had given me over the years, how could I selfishly deny him this one last request?

He was Vascar

He was my best friend

He was my constant and loyal companion for over 15 years

He was a superb ambassador for his breed, and for dogs in general

He had fun, and enjoyed life to the full

He was a thinker and a teacher

He is sorely missed

Sleep well, dear friend

 Alan Bowles

It was Rudyard Kipling who wrote in his powerful poem The Power of the Dog of

"  . . . giving your heart to a dog to tear". You have to have lived through the

experience yourself to know exactly what he meant by that phrase.

* The name Vascar comes from the acronym for a piece of measuring equipment I  used in my professional life at one time. I wanted a distinctive name that was not likely to be encountered elsewhere. In fact when Vascar was about five years old we did meet another German Shepherd with the same name, from the opposite end of the country, also involved in working trials.