Feature

Cross Border

© Lucia Foster-Found 2022 www.luciafosterfound.com

Surprised to find herself flat on her back, she looked sideways. Inches from her face, her terrier was sporting a similarly stunned expression in her fur trimmed, smoky eyes.

They’d been walking parallel to the river. Marshy, thickly populated with brambles and rotting fallen trees covered in moss. Scrambling over slippery logs and side-stepping thorny trip wires required stamina, agility and close quarter concentration.

So when the deer rose out of the ground where it had lain hidden and camouflaged in the brown, decaying detritus, she’d been unprepared. In its flight it struck her full in the chest, leapt gracefully over her dog and fled the scene, leaving her prone. The terrier was in disbelief; the nerve of that funny looking dog with the pointy feet and sticks on its head!

Years before, resting literally in the palm of her hand, she’d been the tiniest puppy when she was that best-of-all birthday present. Himself had bought a chicken coop and told her to look in the Land Rover for another gift. Expecting a chicken – well, you would, wouldn’t you – she was surprised to find a little scrap of excited, yapping fur.

‘Chicken’ didn’t quite cut it as a name, so they chose something fittingly cute and chirpy for the tiny creature. And she was extremely cute and terribly chirpy, but she was also a terrier… A Border-cross at that. With a bit of a volatile nature, she was often referred to as the ‘cross Border’.

To be fair, her wayward traits presented themselves early on and they should have been prepared from the get go. Her very first walk was going so well. Proud owner, tiny puppy, lots of compliments and charm. Until tiny puppy scented something more interesting in the form of two large dogs on the other side of the park, that is. She homed in on them. My, she was fast – like a blunt and furry missile.

Her proud owner, not so much. She scooped up the miscreant whilst panting and wheezing like an asthmatic accordion with the effort of running and yelling at the same time. The two large dogs and owner were, thankfully, amused at the tiny terrier who’d been telling them off and making a dreadful noise, something between a scream, a bark and a howl. And at a surprising volume for one so small. The weeny Houdini once even disappeared from the rigorously ‘dog proofed’ garden for a whole day, returning triumphant and unrepentant with a cargo of a thousand ticks. Her mistress picked up her wriggling furry body and kissed her; so relieved she was back, and the dog so pleased to be back, that noone could be cross.

Yes, she admitted it without a shred of shame - that dog had her wrapped around her little claw. She was putty in her paws.

But the terrier would lie on her sick bed all day when her mistress was ill. A personal protection squad of one, snout towards the door she was ready to repel all hostiles. And when her mistress cradled her in her arms and kissed her soft ears, smelling faintly of elderflowers, the small dog would croon and half close her eyes with pleasure.

But the cross Border was also, it has to be said, ‘a bit of a worry’.

One sunny Saturday just before Christmas, the terrier was running through a narrow thicket as they walked alongside on the grassy riverbank. Himself, hearing the drone of an insect, commented that it was very late for wasps. When they reached the end of the wood they called their dog. And called. Eventually she tottered out of the trees, collapsing at their feet. Having presumably encountered the mother lode nest, the small, furry body was crawling with wasps.

Himself scooped up her limp and comatose little body. A mercy dash to the nearest vet, adrenaline shots and an oxygen tent – and the terrier was saved! Relieved tears all round. Reluctantly they left the prone and semi-conscious dog with the vets, who said she needed to overnight with them. However, they hadn’t long been home when the ‘phone rang.

“Hello?” In the background, she could hear the most awful noise. Hard to describe – something between a scream, a bark and a howl. And so loud. It sounded familiar… And cross. “Hello.” Said the slightly stressed sounding voice at the other end. “Please can you come and collect your dog. We think she’s well enough to go home…”

But all things come to an end and eventually she lost her constant companion, her terrier. To use the word ‘lost’ is, of course, a flimsy euphemism - it makes it sound like she wandered off. Which actually was clearly a recurring theme throughout her 16 odd years. But all too soon, the wet-nosed, furry vandal broke her heart and was gone, sauntering off and wagging her tail behind her…