Pointer Sister

I know, I know, I know......we did have another dog, Toffy, a German Pointer so I apologise for letting Elsie have all the limelight but two such different canine characters you could not expect to come across in a lifetime. We moved from Elsie's first house only a couple of months after she moved in and settled in Lincolnshire in another damp proofed and replastered cottage in another commuter village. By now we were both working so we thought in our wisdom that Elsie needed the company. Our new next door neighbours' daughter had a litter of Pointer puppies from a purebred mother but a rather mischievous and frankly not-to-be-trusted -with -your -back -turned black labrador. The puppies were really cute and at only a few days old could sit easily in the palm of your hand. For some financial consideration we acquired an almost all white one save for a Caramac chocolate coloured blob. Elsie did not at all appear put out by the new arrival and soon conducted her ritual to establish the hierarchy in the house as she had with me only months before. Toffy ambled about in true puppy clumsiness and was so small, although not the runt of the litter, that she could easily walk under and through Elsie's legs without contact. Training with Elsie had been quite straightforward but Toffy represented a great challenge by her rather superior opinion of herself and the fact that her mum and sister lived on the other side of the hedge. On the frequent occasions that she disappeared from our house and garden we only had to look into next doors back kitchen to see Toffy quite at ease by the fireside or eating amongst her relatives. Her growth was rapid and she soon towered above Elsie. We did witness a few stand-off situations between the two adopted sisters with Toffy throwing her weight and Teutonic breeding around but more than matched by Elsie's guile and streetwise nature. Toffy had been weaned onto a dry dog food mix which came in large 6kg bags from the agricultural suppliers in the area and was suitable to adequately fuel her madly active and frenetic behaviour. Elsie who had started on tinned Winalot and mixer had to fall in line with the Pointer Diet and although she competed for her food we felt that she never really took to it. The dry food was interesting to inspect and disect. In the days prior to the awareness of mad cow disease I would marvel at the range of organ parts and offal that made up the ingredients. With a basic and practical knowledge of human physiology I am sure it would have been possible to assemble a viable but mutant bovine creation from the contents of a typical bag. Toffy regarded us as a lodging house and would make every effort to abscond and wander around the village. On the leash she pulled and pulled like a cart horse so we used a halti type collar to try to train this out of her. It did not work. The combination of her size, erratic movement and steamroller aggression together with the halti gave her the appearance of a muzzled beast which was so very far from the actual truth but did serve to frighten and intimidate small children in particular. In a matter of a few months the two dogs excavated and destroyed the rear lawn and flower beds. We paved it. We soon moved again and the decision making process for the choice of house was not so much 'Location, Location, Location' as 'Sunroom for the dogs' above all other attributes. In retrospect it was not really that suitable a residence for us human occupants and with the arrival of our first two children we rapidly outgrew the place. The dogs were in a good position to guard the back of the house and did deter one opportunistic approach by potential perpetrators when my wife and infant daughters felt at some risk. Toffy continued doing her famous runners and we dreaded the discovery of her empty bed upon being alerted to the fact by an ever considerate and attentive Elsie. The Pointers' sense of road safety was non-existent although at her fully grown weight of around 6 stone she could probably survive an impact and cause considerable damage to car bodywork in the process. My favourite two photos of Toffy do cause me to smile. An early one shows her in an almost angelic aura with her white coat catching the sun on a bright afternoon as she stands belly deep in a meadow. The other, standing on the top of a narrowboat wearing a full lifejacket, during a memorable week on the Leeds-Liverpool canal. The dog was still infuriating and stressful to have around the house although I do feel some guilt about not having enough energy to cope with her constant demands for a long walk or a prolonged throw and fetch session. At 10 years old she faded away very quickly after, I am convinced, she contracted Weils disease from one of her swimming sessions in one of the seasonal water holes in the local Country Park. I was sat next to her increasingly frail form at the moment when she drew her last breathe. I was devastated by her demise but Elsie took it well and indeed really enjoyed, that evening, her first full tin of Winalot for a decade.