tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post4516580206097226158..comments2024-03-18T10:29:46.055+00:00Comments on Ken Armstrong Writing Stuff: Laddie’s Unworthy FilmKen Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-34020450264994598532013-08-05T18:08:57.576+01:002013-08-05T18:08:57.576+01:00I was given a dog called Laddie when I was 9 by an...I was given a dog called Laddie when I was 9 by an elderly farmer uncle. Like you, not many kids lived on our road in Dublin, so I walked him most days from Baggot Street Bridge to Leeson Street and back down the other side of the canal. In 1979, I was living in Copenhagen and by all accounts from home, he was becoming increasingly unwell and was blind in one eye, bumping into things and falling down the stairs. One evening, a group of 6 Danish friends I was sharing our apartment with were sitting eating dinner together when the phone rang. It was my sister telling me that Laddie had been put to sleep. Shocked and in tears I returned to the table, blurting out "Laddie's dead" - which led to an astonishing degree of upset on my behalf by my flatmates until I suddenly realised that they thought I had said "Daddy's dead". I gained a sense of perspective right there and then for my nineteen year old self. He was a great friend to me, that mongrel terrier dog.Laddie is a good name for a dog.shinesterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03359103878974761089noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-69331976941653476182013-08-05T17:48:06.421+01:002013-08-05T17:48:06.421+01:00They say every dog person gets ONE really special ...They say every dog person gets ONE really special dog. Oh, they'll love every pet they have, but there's always that one. <br /><br />Ours was Smokey, a 12 year old chocolate Lab who had to be put to sleep 2 weeks before Christmas a couple of years ago. It wasn't a film burned in my mind that day, it was the ringtone on my phone. Hubby had to take Smokey to a vet out of town while I stayed to watch his shop and he called me numerous times with updates and the co-decision, awful as it felt, to let Smokey go.<br /><br />The next day, I changed the ringtone on my phone. Hearing it on someone else's phone still makes me feel a little sad.<br /><br />I swear you have one of the biggest hearts I know...and you know how to get to ours. :)hopehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03306622656461205674noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-36530216045665046552013-08-04T18:02:00.487+01:002013-08-04T18:02:00.487+01:00Hi Ken; I'm sorry Twitter sent me skittering b...Hi Ken; I'm sorry Twitter sent me skittering back under a rock. I am on FB too - just look for the bloke in a Doctor Who scarf.<br /><br />I don't have a film memory of Sam dying, our labrador cross. He had a road accident and my memory is of me and mum taking him to the vet, and me not knowing at the time he wouldn't be coming back.<br /><br />I have a copy of James Herbert's Fluke with a dog on its cover that makes me think of him.Marc Patersonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/../../marc-paterson/doctor-who-the-new-doctor_b_3695982.htmlnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-37189503464269469252013-08-04T13:19:29.928+01:002013-08-04T13:19:29.928+01:00Ah, the death of pets. With my mum it was cats as ...Ah, the death of pets. With my mum it was cats as you know. Dad was actually a dog person. He had a little black Scottie called Butch before I came along. I’ve a couple of dull photos of him with his dog—one is my dad sitting in his chair smoking a fag and reading the paper with the dog on the armrest—but that’s it. Butch, so I’ve been told, developed the habit of, as soon as Dad’s car came into view, he’d scamper down the road to be let in and the two of them would drive the last hundred yards together. And then one day there was no Butch. Dad found him dead under a hedge. His assumption was that the dog saw a car like his, ran to meet it and the driver never stopped. He said he had to wait until dark to bury the dog and as rigor mortis had set in it was like having a stuffed dog just sitting there in the living room. Tore him apart and he vowed—and dad took his vows seriously—that he’d never have another dog and he never did. It was cats for the next thirty years.<br /><br />I only remember the death of one clearly: Tigger, the scarediest cat in the world. He didn’t have as much character as Tom, the first cat I really remember growing up, but he was the one I bonded with. He died once I’d moved out and when Dad called that week—as he did every Thursday evening—all I could hear was Mum in the background: “Don’t tell our Jimmy.” She knew I’d be upset and reckoned that was the kind of news that should be presented face to face. Of course by then I knew something was up and Dad told me. And to this day—which is nearly twenty years later—I still miss him terribly. I’m dreading the day our cockatiel dies. He’s become such a focal point in our lives—if someone had told me one could develop such an affection for a wee ball of fluff and squeak I’d’ve never have believed them but it’s true—and he’ll leave more than a birdie-shaped hole in our lives. The fish, on the other hand, as much as I’m fond of him and go out of my way to ensure his stay with us is as pleasant as I can make it, could die tomorrow and I’d just start planning what to replace him with. Odd that.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-55496454040742823202013-08-03T17:27:28.475+01:002013-08-03T17:27:28.475+01:00You and me would have walked Laddie and Patch up t...You and me would have walked Laddie and Patch up the avenue a few summer days I reckon. I remember bringing a transistor radio along one time in particular. :)<br /><br />Sam looks like a fine Springer, they're a great dog. Mind yourself, I'll see you one of the days. KKen Armstronghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-38420704262743456482013-08-03T17:16:52.426+01:002013-08-03T17:16:52.426+01:00Hi Ken, I remember both Laddie & Patch,I don&#...Hi Ken, I remember both Laddie & Patch,I don't mind admitting that big alstaian put the crap crossways in me. My film is the French Connection.I had a springer, Cindy, she had a tumour removed aged 8 & thing went down hill over next nine months.While being released from the vets she walked toward me & my Dad then just fell infront of us.In a second she was gone.We brought her home to bury her ,both well matured men close to tears. Neither me or my Dad could sleep that night,we sat up late watching 'The French Connection' I still have a springer Sam ,who since my father passed away last year,each night sits by his chair waiting to be made a fuss of.When Sam goes, I don't think I'll leave the tv on.Just as I'll never see Popeye Doyle again, now for two reasons.<br />The post struck s chord with me mate, feeling a wee bit.. take care Kenseoirse mac enrihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11894305600071657649noreply@blogger.com