To lose two of them in a year. It is very hard.
My naughty Norfolk passed away at the start of 2021, and now the chief’s not-so-crazy Cocker has also gone to meet his maker.
Barra was the oldest of the current MacNaughties – and the calmest spaniel you ever met.
Which is saying something for this breed. You know the old adage: a labrador is born half-trained, a spaniel dies half-trained.
A major consolation is that he had a very good life. One filled with fields and pheasants, with treats and walks.
A good friend to us all
Barra was a good friend to us all. And he remained completely loyal to the Chief, whose dog he was.
Named after a Scottish island, this intrepid hound accompanied my husband up mountains and across moors.
When a photographic or fishing trip was on the cards, there he was, ready to go.
At home, meanwhile, he was a decent guard dog – yet always watching family to see if he could help or commiserate.
Wild, untrainable hound
In fact, it was only rarely Barra let us down. And if he did in those early days, it was when he was following his father, a wild and untrainable hound.
One time both disappeared on a snowy winter’s evening. By some miracle, and after much searching the MacGregor found them three days later, cold, wet and hungry in a nearby Perthshire field.
On another occasion we had a call from the local nick. Could we please come and retrieve the errant pair from the cells?
Someone found them wandering by the road near our home at Newtyle – yes, how did they escape?! – and had helpfully taken them to a police station 10 miles away.
A grand old age
Dogs. Who’d have ‘em?! At least Barra managed to reach a grand old age. He was 15 when he went. Which is more of a life than some manage to have.
That, plus a peaceful passing at the vets. He – and we – can’t ask for more. Yet it is always so very sad when a pet goes.
Even more distressing is the fact that the chief was not here to say goodbye; trapped first in South Africa, then imprisoned in a ghastly London quarantine hotel…
We tried to keep Barra going until he returned. In the end, it became impossible, and the kindest thing had to happen.
The MacGregor is upset and adamant: that’s it – no more dogs. Until the next time, of course.
The older statesman
Meanwhile, the remaining two – the Chow and the Norfolk puppy – get on with their lives.
I wonder if they even miss the older statesman?
The one who growled softly when they got too boisterous, or too cheeky. The one who, to the end, knew his place as top dog.
Barra was the only hound allowed on the sofa at night. His bed took centre stage in the kitchen.
This silly spaniel with the pleading dark eyes and the funny floppy ears became a prudent pooch.
He won our hearts because, yes, Barra was a great dog…
