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Likes: Hugs and kisses, Treats, Walks (on the beach, especially.)
Pet-Peeves: People touching his paws, Baths, (even pretend) Violence
Favorite Toy: Never cared for toys... he preferred to play with people ! He could even play a mean game of hide-and-seek !
Favorite Food: Cheese, Meat, Icecream.... and everything else !
Favorite Walk: Crystal Crescent Beach, Bluff Head, Sandy Cove... anywhere with lots of doggie pee (and poo) to sniff !
Best Tricks: Sneeze, Roll over, Shake a paw, Kisses, Sit pretty
Arrival Story: When I was nine years old, I asked for a pet rabbit. I remember Mum standing at the kitchen sink, doing dishes, questioning why I'd want a rabbit, of all things. I had a fish tank up in my room, but one can't hold a goldfish. Our family had kept outdoor dogs, but they were rarely allowed inside and I never grew close to them; sometimes I forgot they were there. When I was five my dad brought home two kittens but within a few weeks they were whisked back from whence they came, as my dad discovered he's really not a cat person. So I'd never really had a pet I could hug and snuggle and grow close to. I figured asking for a bunny was my best bet, as I could keep it in a hutch and take it out to play. Dad wouldn't have to worry about it unrolling the toilet paper or getting fur on the chesterfield. It never occurred to me to request a little indoor dog, however, so when my own father suggested it I thought he was having a momentary lapse. But, no- he was feeling big-hearted, and we began our search for a smallish dog that wouldn't shed too badly. I pored over the classifieds and begged to be taken to the animal shelter. I fell for every animal I saw, but Dad kept saying, "Wait, be patient... keep looking." We came close to adopting a corgi left at our local vet's office, but in the end Dad decided it was too big. Finally, my friend's mother, who was a groomer, told us about one of her clients who was looking to get rid of her pets. Apparently, she and her husband wanted to be free to do more traveling. One of the canines in question was a two-or-three year old apricot toy poodle named Barney. (Though having the honour of christening the dog had been a big deal to me, we decided to keep his given name. Now I can't imagine him as anything other than Barnaby Reginald !) He was pure-bred and all, with a little blue-green tattoo inside his floppy ear. It was set, and I vividly remember watching the car drive up with Barney inside. It was the 14th of July, 1991; a lovely, sunny day. The little dog leapt from the vehicle and into my life. He was vibrant and curious, but we managed to get him to pose for a picture with me. He was fluffy & freshly groomed, and smelled delicious (my friend's mother had even used a special doggie perfume !) From that moment, Barney was my baby and I was his little girl. He was perfect in every way: Abnormally intelligent and sensitive, affectionate, easygoing and a complete joy to be around. Really, try as I might I can't think of a single aspect to Barn in which there was room for improvement. Physically, he was adorable, with big, liquid brown eyes which were more expressive than many humans' ! In turn, he could tell by a subtle look in his peoples' eye whether it was okay to hop up in our lap; oftentimes with Barney words were superfluous. His fur was soft and curly and smelled like everything comforting to me. His legs were a wee bit short for his body, and he had a peculiar little 'skip' that never failed to elicit smiles ! Most importantly, Barney possessed the most gentle soul I've ever encountered, and I feel honoured to have shared almost fourteen years with him.
Bio: Barnaby saw me through many difficult times, including my parents' divorce and my subsequent move 3000 miles across the country . He was my friend, my baby, my confidante, and at times the only constant in my life... I'm forever grateful to him. Recently, it was my turn to repay Barn by freeing him from the ravages of old age and disease. After almost fourteen years with us, it was obvious my baby's body was growing tired. He could no longer enjoy the things that make life worth living, and he just wasn't the Barney I'd known and loved so completely. I prayed he'd go peacefully, in his sleep, but it wasn't to be. On april 4th of this year, I held and kissed his head as he slipped out of my life... there's no question that this was the most difficult thing I've ever done.
Now, it's been 45 days since I had to say 'so long' to my best friend. I think of him many times each day, and sleep holding the towel we swaddled him in that last evening. I can still smell him. I try not to get hung up on the sorrow; I feel in my heart that Barney's soul continues even though his little body's gone. Surely if there's a heaven, Barney will be waiting for me. Until then, every day without him will be a little less bright.
Forums Motto: Barnaby Reginald, He's Our Dog !
Here are just a few things I never want to forget about you, my sweet boy:
* The way you smelled; especially the fur on your cheek & neck (it had the aroma of warm, unbuttered popcorn !) and the inexpressible scent of the bridge of your snout. These smells were such a comfort to me. I'd lie in bed, holding you to me like a teddy bear, our noses almost touching. I'd inhale your exhaled air and vice versa, and we'd fall asleep in this way. Somtimes you'd sigh, or smack your little, black lips.
* The way your small, warm body conformed to my hugs. You weren't stiff and hollow-feeling like some little dogs. You were like a big bean bag, wrapping your furry arms about me and nuzzling into my neck !
* The little bump on the bridge of your snout, where the fur was less thick. Your skin was darker there, and even had a few freckles.
* The way you wriggled and cocked your eyebrows. So expressive ! And those liquid brown eyes ! It's said the eyes are the windows to the soul, and you, Barney, had an almost human degree of depth and sensitivity.
* The tight curls of fur on your "knees", and the soft, straight fur on your chest and belly. Oh- and that belly button !
* Your cute, fluffy paws with the brown nails. Well, not all were brown; one, on the front left paw, was white; the one beside that was half-and-half.
* Your "pompadour" ! I gave you a mohawk, once: blue and yellow. And dyed your tail purple. I thought you looked cool- Vance didn't !
* The way you skipped when you walked - this is the Barney trademark ! Watching you speed ahead when we took our walks, prancing like a child, then looking back to see if I was still coming. Oftentimes you'd even stop so I could catch up !
* Your big-dog bark. No shrill yapping from Barn, no sir ! But you were usually the strong silent type... barking only when we teased you, making you think we were hitting eachother ! You'd voice your concern, then lick us all to make sure we were okay and not angry with you !
* Our games of hide-and-seek. I'd tuck myself entirely under my blanket, and then call you in from the other room. You'd jump up on the bed and begin sniffing and snuffling, trying to get your snout under the blanket. Then you'd start "digging" with your paws. Finally I'd release an edge of the blanket and you'd dive underneath, bathing my face with kisses !
* This ritual hadn't been enacted for a while, since you grew confused, but when you were younger it went like clockwork: you'd finish a meal at your dish, walk lazily to the livingroom, and find a comfy spot to start licking your front paws. A few moments into this act, you'd raise your face and let out a big, unapologetic "BRRRAPP !"
My boy, I still love you every bit as much as when you stood by my side. You're greatly missed.
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