Kimberley

I didn’t chain the gate. I just thought that the dogs wouldn’t push through but at 9.50 pm someone came to the door and said, “We’ve just run over a cattle dog and it’s dead.
Thought it might be yours?” My little Cairn Terrier bounced up and down at their feet alone, without Kimberley. I felt this sickening feeling inside. I replied in a bland voice, “It probably is.
I’ll go and have a look”.

I ran up the street and round the corner. I couldn’t see her at first but then I spotted her beside the big pine tree. There was no sign of injury at all. I knelt down and put my head on her warm body. I began sobbing and calling her name, “Kimberley”. I caressed her beautiful red coat.

The day before, Kimberley, you and I walked up from the stock yards. We stopped at the first mob of cattle. You rested your body against my leg and sat in readiness as the big old cow came within two feet of you. I said “Righto” and you launched at her sending her into a back spin. I called you back and you came obediently. We walked up the long hill together. You were always a dozen spaces in front of me. I’d had a hard day and I sat on the grassy verge watching the sun go down. For some reason, you wouldn’t leave me alone, pushing me and leaning against me. I sat with my arm around you watching the sun go down. When we got back to the cattle yards, you jumped in the trough. I said to you, “Now for that, you have to walk to the gate”. We travelled home in the dark, you with your head tucked close to my shoulder.

I didn’t sleep much that night, just tossed and turned. Morning eventually came but I didn’t feel hungry so skipped breakfast. The time had come to lay you to rest. We went to the same grassy verge that I’d been to the day before. However, there was not that spring in my step that I had felt with you by my side. My eyes were filled with tears. As I placed your beautiful body in that grave, I said to you through my tears, “Kimberley, I love you so much. Thanks”.

Kimberley, my Smithfield cattle dog had walked with me through so much of my life. We did everything together. She travelled in the car with me, always in the back seat but always with her head on my shoulder. She listened to me laugh, cry, complain, sing and dance. Never did she complain. She greeted me as none other, ever joyful to see me. Is it any wonder that they say, “a dog is a man’s best friend” for surely you were my best friend.