Memories of Dano the Boxer Dog

My Father was a tough guy. Not in a hard, unfeeling way, but I never saw him cry - until one day in 1990. Our Boxer dog Dano was in his final hours, when I heard a strange sound coming from the corner of the room. Strange, only because I hadn't experienced my Father crying before. Dad was in his 60th year, and he just crumbled. And I loved him for it. He'd been the rock of family, and I had to take over for a few months.

I've been talking with several Associated Content contributors recently about coping with unpleasant anniversaries. That dreaded date which rolls round - the anniversary of when a loved one left this Earth. As you get older you have quite a few unpleasant anniversaries! So, March 1st, 2010 will be the significant 20th anniversary of Dano's death, and his black cat pal Lucy died on March 7th, 1998, so early March is a mix of looking forward to spring, but dealing with sad anniversaries also. Because my late Father was close to both Dano and Lucy I think of him and them together in a happier place.

Anyway, I plan to turn these dates on their head, and use them as a celebration. Different things work for different people, so I wouldn't be presumptuous enough to say: "This is how you cope." I hadn't, for instance, really been that conscious of anniversaries till my late 30s. Maybe, as I get older, it's the fear of forgetting a person or animal I loved.

I've only ever had the one dog, and even he didn't live to be 9 years old. But his impression on me, my parents, and, I venture to suggest, everyone who came into contact with him, was huge. Dano (pronounced Dar-No) was a very polite dog. If he expelled gas, and we said: "Pardon", he'd leave the room, looking guilty and embarrassed. Ah, if only some humans were as thoughtful! Dano was smart. He knew a number of words, and also knew the day certain people were due to call, as he'd sit and wait for them by the front door.

Dano entered our lives in April 1981, and it was, and remains, the best year of my adult life. We had a black kitten, Lucy, who had arrived a few months earlier, after our previous black cat, Lucky, had sadly not lived up to her name, and had been run over. My Great Aunt Edie died the same day, and my musical hero John Lennon was murdered at the end of 1980, so I couldn't wait to get into 1981! I was just turned 21, and awaited the golden times associated with that age.

1981 was the year I had an excuse to discover some beautiful countryside around my home town of Luton in Bedfordshire, England. I had lived in the town all my life, and most of that time had been in the Warden Hills area. Having the exuberant Dano, I rediscovered the hills and countryside around me. We often do take our surroundings for granted.

Another benefit of having Dano was meeting not only new people, but new canines, too! A new world seemed to open up. Dogs are highly intelligent, but they are also kept happy by simple things. I must have seemed a nut, looking for sticks in various parks, on trips to English towns and cities, to bring home for Dano.

The benefits of having a dog were, and are, many. It's an interesting way of getting exercise, and with a dog you get unconditional love, and however bad your day has been, your dog will be there for you slurping you to death when you come home!

Photos of Dano by Peter Rance