Merlin – aka Tullymurry Night (YS-KSM) September 2001 to 6th October 2011

According the records he was born September 2001, spent three years with a trainer in Ireland and then was unceremoniously dumped after stuffing up three races. All in 2004 a second place followed by two lasts sealed his fate and his transition to Fen Bank retirement home, he was given a bad press and so no one else would take him on. I did. After a year in ‘Prison’ I spotted him on June 16th 2005, gave him a fuss and then set about dog fencing the garden. A week later, he arrived with Dreamer in tow. By this time I had retired from the RAF and was a house husband and struggling author. Then the fun started. Someone dug up the garden, drank all the water from the pond and chased all the cats out of the garden. They actually caught one once and just held it in their mouths looking stupid.

The local dogs fared worst, he attacked an Alsatian, some stupid pit bull that the owner let off the lead, and another dog that decided to attack them. It ran off yelping back into their house where it should have been all the time. And he did back flips at the end of an extendable dog lead, nearly dislocating my right arm, that was a fun day at the local park followed by loads of Ibuprofen.

The only time he ever attacked Dreamer was when she tried to push him out the way of a cat, she came off worse, but no real damage. I only got bit on the face once, so that was okay, and now we list his other crimes, which are all food related apart from the bed incident, the floor tile glue and the bath, where he had a panic attack and collapsed, that was his second and final bath ever. 
Sometimes however you would find a pair of black eyes looking at you in the predawn light, just in case you wanted to get up and give him a treat. The weather was never an issue and even in the icy winter of 2010 where it dropped to -9C did not keep us in, heavy rain just made the coats come out. More often than not we would spot the local foxes and they always got a good barking at, same as the local cats and squirrels.

He pulled a tray of cooked sausages out of the grill and ate them, stole the ham out my sandwich on the table and whole chicken carcasses out the kitchen bin, but in general he was a sleepy tired dog who apart from the room emptying farts when he stretched was generally up for an ear rub growl and a belly rub at any time, but towards the end, he became slower, ate later in the day, had some of his teeth out, broke claws off. Then unexpectedly on the morning of the 6th October he was unable to stand and held his right paw in floppy way. A call to the Vets confirmed the worse and the car was prepared as an ambulance to take him there. The vet explained the pointless options and at 14.40 he was put to sleep as I rubbed his ears. After I had removed his collar, I gave him a final rub and explained where we would meet again, and that closed the chapter of my life called Merlin.

Mr MN Woodhouse, better for having known him.