Trudy

Trudy could have walked straight off the pages of J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan. She was to us kids the epitome of a nana dog, at least to me. While nana was portrayed as a Saint Bernard, Trudy was a fire red cockier spaniel with liquid chocolate eyes and a penchant for following us me every where. This was back in the days when dogs had the roam of the neighbourhood.

Trudy was quite fond of hunting rodents in fields of hay outside our house. Sometimes, I helped flipping over old piles of woods while Trudy sniffed excitedly, hoping I'd flush out a mouse or perhaps a rat. It is probably a good thing we were never successful in this game as I'd have been horrified if Trudy had snared a mouse.

When Trudy did capture something, it had to be rescued. Such was the case of the mole, that sightless had probably stumbled blindly into Trudy's path. Trudy was victorious, at last to catch something. Slapping her dog dish down on top of it to protect it, I deprived her of her bounty.

I was a committed animal lover and that included moles. Trudy readily forgave me.

When I was traipsing about the hay fields that towered over my head, Trudy was more often than not right behind me snort and snuffling in the long grass hunting insects and rodents while I amused myself hunting grasshoppers and lady bugs. I loved to catch a lady bug and then as a magnanimous gesture sing the song: "Lady bug, lady bug, fly away home. Your house is on fire and your children alone." It distressed me to no end to think of her poor babies alone. Every lady bug was presumed to be a mother with children alone.

Trudy was a slightly squashed dog, Mom attributed this to her being run over by a car at some point in her life. Whatever happened, nothing held Trudy back. Trudy was with us until she was 16 years of age, the same age I was.

When I was 5 exploring the fields, Trudy would have been in the prime of her life.