Whilst back home I was going through a box in the attic and found some photos of Gemma, my first dog.
On the beach (South Coast of England) - Winter '89
I was back at school when she joined our family, about 11 or 12 years old. To be honest, although I'd always wanted a dog I don't think we knew what we were doing when we got her - a pedigree English Springer Spaniel (gundog working lines) from a local farm! It was an experience that kept us all very fit! She'd run for miles and miles across fields and beaches, and loved to chase gulls on the shore... not just until they took off but she'd keep running at them whilst they flew low and even rush into the sea after them! She'd charge through undergrowth on scents and trails, and get those ears full of brambles and twigs, but she didn't care! Impossible to tire, never ever bored and always extatic to see you - she had a great life and was a great companion. She lived to a ripe old age of nearly 14, and even when her back legs started to give up as an old lady she'd still make every effort to run and greet, even to the point of putting herself in pain. Sadly this condition worsened and she had to be pts. I'm sure she's charging around and making mischief in doggy heaven somewhere right now -- I will always remember her.
One of the last photos of Gemma, aged almost 14
"I can't think of anything that brings me closer to tears than when my old dog -- completely exhausted after a hard day in the field -- limps away from her nice spot in front of the fire and comes over to where I'm sitting and puts her head in my lap, a paw over my knee, and closes her eyes and goes back to sleep. I don't know what I've done to deserve that kind of friend."
-- Gene Hill
On the beach (South Coast of England) - Winter '89
I was back at school when she joined our family, about 11 or 12 years old. To be honest, although I'd always wanted a dog I don't think we knew what we were doing when we got her - a pedigree English Springer Spaniel (gundog working lines) from a local farm! It was an experience that kept us all very fit! She'd run for miles and miles across fields and beaches, and loved to chase gulls on the shore... not just until they took off but she'd keep running at them whilst they flew low and even rush into the sea after them! She'd charge through undergrowth on scents and trails, and get those ears full of brambles and twigs, but she didn't care! Impossible to tire, never ever bored and always extatic to see you - she had a great life and was a great companion. She lived to a ripe old age of nearly 14, and even when her back legs started to give up as an old lady she'd still make every effort to run and greet, even to the point of putting herself in pain. Sadly this condition worsened and she had to be pts. I'm sure she's charging around and making mischief in doggy heaven somewhere right now -- I will always remember her.
One of the last photos of Gemma, aged almost 14
"I can't think of anything that brings me closer to tears than when my old dog -- completely exhausted after a hard day in the field -- limps away from her nice spot in front of the fire and comes over to where I'm sitting and puts her head in my lap, a paw over my knee, and closes her eyes and goes back to sleep. I don't know what I've done to deserve that kind of friend."
-- Gene Hill
