Heavenly Beverley : Destined To Come to Carnarvon

We have just experienced a most unusual couple of days. Yesterday morning, we left Emu Creek Station with some relief and set off down the Wool Wagon Way towards the bright lights of Gascoyne Junction. I must admit that I was feeling a tad out of sorts. We had entered the last ten days of our Northern Jaunt. We had turned the shower cubicle into a dirty clothes repository. And dirty all our gear was. I was becoming weary of bucket baths (or no baths at all) due to our reliance on caravan parks for the luxury of a shower. The portaloo was losing its appeal. And I was missing home, Pip and Ruby (Madame Cat). In fact, I am now longing to see our beloved pets again.

There was more than that. For ten years, Michael and I had been the ringmasters of a trio of canine clowns. Losing Sascha was almost unbearable last year. I wanted another dog almost instantly - not to replace her (impossible) but to return to my status quo. Michael resisted, pointing out very sensibly that we still had Ruby the Beagle and Mister Pip, as well as Her Feline Majesty and the Pirate parrot.

So we settled into the rhythm of a doggy duo. Ruby was not the world's greatest companion to Pip and she was, inevitably still the Problem Child, causing unexpected havoc with no feelings of remorse whatsoever. Then the Bloody Beagle's health became another headache. An issue of elderly leakage was thought to be caused by a urinary tract infection. Except there were no bacteria. Then the spectre of cancer was suggested. Along with her rapid descent into dementia and a bladder tumour, we were planning to leave for this trip within a week. Euthanasia was quickly decided to be in all of our best interests.

And I still believe we made the right decision. The morning she died, Ruby was spent. She hung her head, panting and frightened, in the waiting room at the vet. Ingrid carried our sad little dog out to insert the cannula and then brought her back to me to cuddle and weep over and say my goodbyes. Ruby was gone before the injection had been completed.

In essence, Ruby's spirit had already flown some weeks earlier. In the final period of her life, she was not the Ruby we knew and loved. That was the hardest knowledge to digest. We didn't see her quirky personality disappear before our eyes until she had become a shell of herself. And then suddenly, her last vestige was gone as well.

Pip has lost both his life partners. He is moving into the twilight of his life. His arthritis and anxiety will remain hopefully under control. As long as he is functional, pain-free and happy, I am content.

But I think, like me, he needs more. He needs a canine buddy. Madame Cat needs a newbie to annoy. Michael needs to walk for his diabetes. And I need a spark of youth and play and fun back in our home.

Having turned right instead of left on the Wool Wagon Way and finding ourselves in Carnarvon yesterday afternoon, I opened up the local animal rescue page on my laptop. I stared into the chocolate eyes of a black three-month-old puppy. Her name was not my choice - Melu, which is a Kiwi name. That didn't matter. I looked at her and fell in love.

We saw her today. And we have adopted her. Michael, who was not in favour of this act admitted that she was a really gorgeous little dog. Placid. Relaxed. Very mellow. But still off for a bark and a run when somebody dared walk past the front yard of her foster mum's house.

She is being sterilised tomorrow. She is already microchipped and had her first vaccinations. Now we are in search of a proper name for her. Michael and Vanessa are not happy with my choice of calling her mellow after her personality. We are toying with Ella, Millie, Rosie, Lucy. Suggestions would be welcomed. We leave Carnarvon with her on Saturday. So looking forward to having her in our family.

*UPDATE* our latest addition, our black little lady furbaby will henceforth be known as STELLA.