My Black Dog #2

My Black Dog #2

As early as AD65 a Roman poet called Horace wrote of the black dog of depression linking back to the idea that black dogs guard the afterlife. A description that Winston Churchill widely promoted.

It was three years ago since we lost Alfie Baxter, and I wrote about how the black dog is a metaphor for depression doesn’t work for me. How Alfie had played a role in helping me through a difficult personal period. He sat down one Sunday afternoon and could no longer breathe properly. Amid the Covid crisis, we handed him over at the back door of the vets and never saw him again. Our hearts broke that day. He had been with us every day, helping us all in his own way. 

We were convinced that we would get another dog. It was going to be another cocker spaniel. This time it was to be a girl. We even had a name, Annie Rose. I’m not sure what happened, but we couldn’t do it. Whilst everyone was getting a dog during lockdown, we simply couldn’t find it in ourselves to replace him. The Black dog that had followed me around was irreplaceable.

Then out of nowhere a year ago another black dog appeared on the scene. We had a grand-puppy, and his name is Marshall Gibson-Gemmell. I would like to tell you that he is sweetly named after a cartoon character in Paw Patrol, but the truth is he is named after David Marshall the Scotland goalkeeper. 

So, with me being at home now, he comes to me once a week and follows me around everywhere. He is my new partner in crime. He arrives rubbing his paws with glee, as if to say, ‘What we up to today papa john,as if I own a pizza company.. He takes me off on long walks and kindly introduces me to everyone we meet in the park.  

He sort of recognises my wife, as some strange person that comes home at the end of the day, but he hasn’t yet asked me who she is. 

I have never reflected much on how different dogs can be across the breeds. He is a dog of very few words, you rarely hear him bark or growl. But he is very tactile, he needs to be stroked and clapped. Failure to do so generally results in a left paw hook. 

Labradors are very clever dogs, so they need the mental stimulation. Marshall puts this to use by being an utter bampot. He is a silent assassin. Turn you back for one minute and he is off with socks, shoes, glasses, and the remote control. Quickly followed by his favourite game of four laps round the dining room table trying to catch him. 

He likes gardening, ripping up my carefully maintained bushes. 

He is very patient with small children, he understands that his size could be scary, so he drops down to make him appear smaller. 

So, in the same way that Alfie helped me when I was low, through his unconditional love Marshall has helped me adapt to stopping work. I worried that when I stopped working that I wouldn’t have a purpose or would find it hard to de-compress. Marshall is having none of it. Once again, I am being followed around by a black dog. Once again it is having a positive impact on my wellbeing. 

The only difference is that at the end of the day, he goes back to his Mum and Dad. He shows no emotion to leaving, doesn’t say goodbye, just flashes a kind of ‘see you later loser’ attitude.

Marshall never met Alfie, they are very different dogs. Marshall would have both loved Alfie and tormented him. The joy of having a black dog hanging around is wonderful again.