Introducing our correspondent
I spent most of my career in corporate communications, writing for many of the UK’s leading companies, colleges and charities, on subjects as diverse as education, architecture and overseas development, not to mention modern dance, aromatherapy, wildlife conservation and plumbing.
You name it, I’ve probably written about it at some time or another.
As a child, however, I dreamed of living in the country, with as many animals as possible. I eventually escaped from London with my dogs in 1998 and settled in a quiet Mid-Devon village where, with the help of my two Labradors, I now run Barkington Towers - canine-friendly, home-from-home accommodation for dogs whose owners are away. These days, I write mainly for my own pleasure and enjoy travel and photography. There are no plans to return to London… Diane Trembath, February 2011
Diane writes:
After my elderly rescue Labrador, Holly, was put to sleep last October, I had no plans to get another dog. There are always guest dogs here at Barkington Towers, so my black Labrador, Louis, has canine chums on tap.
However, in the New Year, I received an email from two of my clients. Their lives had taken a shattering turn and they had reached the painful decision to rehome their beloved young rescue dog, Pumpkin; changed circumstances meant that they would be unable to give her the life she deserved. Did I happen to know of anyone – another client, a farm owner, someone with a bit of land or a keen walker - who could give her a loving home and ensure that she could run to her heart’s content? Going back into rescue was ruled out; she had started life on a grim puppy farm and had already spent time in a centre waiting to be adopted.
Pumpkin was due to stay later that week, so I suggested that her owners come over the next day. I felt sure that a solution could be found and an idea was forming. She had been fortunate in her owners; they had given her a fantastic new start in life and their sole concern had always been her welfare. In the year that she had been coming to stay with me, I’d grown to love her and she loved staying at Barkington Towers… I made two lists: ‘why’ and ‘why not’. The whys had it.
Tears were shed when Pumpkin and her owners arrived and then I put my proposal to them. Would they consider a fostering arrangement, for as long as necessary, even permanently? It would not be the first time that I had fostered a dog and maintained close contact with the original owners. I explained how it could work and could see the relief on their faces. It was, they said, the dream solution.
So I am now the proud guardian of a black and white Saluki-border collie cross. Watching her run across fields and through woodland, flying over streams, feathered tail streaming behind her, takes my breath away. Louis is equally smitten; he now has a companion whom he wants to curl up with in front of the woodburner. Chilly, wintry nights find them wrapped round each other for comfort and closeness. At the risk of sounding anthropomorphic, I’d say they know that this was meant to be.
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