Mr Tod - as I remember it

Our first dog - but my tale begins long before.

I left school at 15 and started work in an accountants office in Haywards Heath.  Our offices fronted on Paddockhall Road with a small garden.   One day when I went to work I was surprised to see my Boss in gardening clothes, weeding.  I went in and asked his secretary what was going on?  She said "!His dog died last night".  "Oh, sad" I said "but what's going on?".  "I told you," she snapped - "his dog died and he's upset".  I couldn't believe my ears - a grown man behaving like that just because a dog had died?

Well, life went on, the war came, I got married, had a family.  The children (5) had the usual pets - rabbits, guinea pigs, etc.but Simon longed for a dog.  Mother (wisely) said No - she knew she would be left to look after it.  Life still went on, we progressed from impoverished to just about managing, and we gradually moved up the property ladder until we moved to a more isolated house on the outskirts of Oxford.Simon seized his chance - "Now you're in a more isolated position you really, REALLY need a guard dog".  We gave in and he immediately found an advert for a home wanted for a dog.

The dog belonged to an old man who sold the Evening Standard at London's Green Park underground station. The poor old chap, a churchgoer, was dying of cancer and from time to time had to go into hospital;.. When that happened, the Vicar went round trying to find someone who would look after the dog.  Eventually he told the old chap that it was not fair to the dog or the parishioners and it would be a kindness to all if the dog was put down.  The poor old chap was distraught - "You cannot kill a healthy dog - can you not find him a home in the country?". (Pause while I wipe my eyes)

So they advertised - in the Oxford paper because the people looking after him at that time lived in the area as well as in London. We fell for him at once, and he for us.  I don't remember his name then but we decided to find our name for him and, thanks to Beatrix Potter, we called him Mr Tod (Toddy for short) because he looked a bit foxy.

We had him for 5 or 6 years and we had never been happier.  I like to think that these were his happiest times, too.  He loved the children as much as they loved him.  Alas, he grew old and eventually was diagnosed with liver cancer and had to end his days.  The vet asked if we would like to have him back for one last weekend and I was all for it but Mother said No and she was right.  I howled - literally.  After all those years I understood my Boss being upset "just because a dog had died".