Rita

I wonder if, like me, there may be certain moments in your life that you remember.

For no particular reason they just stick.

One such moment occurred for me in November 2017.

I was on the train to Birmingham for a work meeting (this was in the days before Covid where real humans met face to face quite a lot).

Since moving into my own apartment in March of that year, I had been on the lookout for my own dog.

I’d lived with dogs my whole life (albeit they were always first and foremost my mum’s or my ex-wife’s) but after separately from my wife, had been without one for a couple of years, first whilst I lived in a rented (no dogs allowed) flat, and then whilst I was getting my shit together in my new place.

I went on the Kennel Club website and there was a breeder with some Airedale terrier puppies for sale (we had Airedales whilst I was married and I always loved their independent spirit and joyous disregard for obeying any command).

A couple of days I found myself in the home of the breeder somewhere north of Newcastle.

“She is the nicest natured of any dog we’ve ever bred, so if you don’t take her now, we’re keeping her.”

Were pretty much the words that greeted me.

And so it was that shortly thereafter, I was heading back down the A1 with one car sick Airedale Terrier on the passenger seat of my two-seater sports car (the car being exchanged as soon as possible thereafter for something where she could throw up in the back rather than over my lap).

This is going to be interesting I thought.

Thus, Rita (it was almost exactly 50 years since Lovely Rita had appeared on Sgt Peppers and seemed like an inspired choice of name) entered my apartment, and my heart.

I don’t think I need to extol the virtues of having a dog to anyone has had one.

In the simplest terms I suppose, they give affection, unconditional love, loyalty and companionship, without judgement and without asking for anything in return.

There can be a profound connection, a deeply felt bond which gives joy and meaning to life.

As I say, I have had many dogs in my life – but none like Rita.

Her presence is enough to make people smile (I lost count long ago of the number of people who have approached me in the street asking of they could pet her - or even have their photo taken with her).

She does not walk, she dressages.

She is very engaging, if not sometimes a little boisterous.

She can be extremely amusing.

She has the awful habit of smelling people in inappropriate places when we travel together on the London underground.

She does not do recall and has frequently had me running in a demented fashion shrieking “Ritaaaa” until at some point I stop and turn to find her a short distance away, looking at me for all the world as if to say “What on earth is your problem?”.

She is a gift.

She is the most affectionate creature I have ever known – even though she will generally leave the room as soon as I enter.

 She is my dear dear friend and a constant loving presence in my life.

 One of the very first things I learned from my teacher Sanjay was to focus on what you have, rather than what you want.

For me at least this has probably been one of the greatest changes in my journey – the simple yet profound understanding, each and every day, of the gifts which have been bestowed upon me and the sincere gratitude which responds to this understanding.

I once heard another of my teachers, Ely, describe Gratitude as “Love’s Answer to Grace”.

Grace can appear in limitless forms – on this occasion it appeared to me in the form of a four-legged friend called Rita.

 For this I am grateful beyond words.