Winnie the Dog

I’m an animal lover and we have rescued a dog and several cats since coming to Crete. The first dog to come to live with us was Winnie. Her owner who had rescued her from an animal shelter had to return to England and she needed a new home in Crete.

Winnie was about seven years old when we got her and she lived for another seven. A sheep dog collie cross, black and white with a beautiful fan like tail and a snow white apron, Winnie became a precious part of our household. She was welcomed in the village, helped the local shepherd to direct his sheep into the field, let our new kitten Juno sit on her back, lay under the table while we tried to learn Greek, attempted to participate in Art classes and slept in a most luxurious bean bag.

Winnie was the first to hear each new episode from my novel A Place in the Choir. As we walked along old donkey trails I’d tell her about my latest idea for the book. If she liked it she’d look at me lovingly but if in her doggie mind I was talking rubbish she’d turn away to investigate something  more interesting along the grass verge.

Winnie never barked except when a white box van passed us on the main road. I often wondered why she became so upset on seeing such a vehicle and why against her usual placid nature she’d chase the van until it was out of sight. What tales of joy and sadness animals could tell us if only they could speak?

Since we lost our Winnie we have attempted to home other dogs and in each case our efforts failed. Someday when I look towards our gate perhaps I’ll see a Winnie look-alike waiting there for it to open.