I’ve mentioned Prince before, the last dog my dad had; thought I’d share a few more memories of him …

Every day my dad would put Prince through his paces – they’d start by going for a walk. My parents' house was at the top of a hill; it sounds solitary but it wasn’t, there were houses lining the road all the way up … and with every other person owning a dog, it had a tendency to get quite noisy. My dad and Prince would walk all the way down, and back up again by a different route. On a leash, walking by my dad’s side, he did look ‘the business’. People in the neighbourhood soon got used to seeing them walking up and down, and were very taken with Prince, though none would get too close. Then, in the front garden, Prince would be given the different commands he’d learnt at ‘school’. It was so cute to watch him – his attention riveted on my dad, watching his every move, listening to his every word. And he’d get tons of praise for it.

Except for the one time when my sister and I were watching from the patio doors at the side of the house. We were sat on the floor, and at that angle, my dad couldn’t see us and didn’t know we were there. But Prince could see us; he was sat facing my dad, and we were on his right side. We called to him really softly; his ears pricked up and he glanced at us, but quickly turned back to face my dad. We called him again, he looked at us for a bit longer. My dad – who’s very no-nonsense when it comes to this sort of thing – called Prince very firmly; the dog snapped his attention back to his master. My sister and I, stifling giggles, called Prince again … he looked at us, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, his attention totally on us now, as we cooed at him. We could hear my dad calling Prince a couple of times … then he marched up to him and flicked his finger at Prince’s ear. The shock made him jump, and he bit his tongue, which made him yelp even more. My dad gave him such a telling-off that my sister and I hightailed it outta there. We did confess later, and got ‘the look’ for our troubles … We also apologised to Prince and gave him extra fussings, poor love. We were very naughty; it wasn’t as if we were teens at the time, we were in our late 20s/early 30s!

These pictures were taken in 1993 … Prince was so much fun to be with. Even though he was trained as a guard dog, he loved to play, and wasn’t at all rough.

Best dance partner ever!

The story behind this picture ...

... that far corner of the garden overlooked the road, and something – we never did work out what it was – had caught Prince’s attention. I decided to sneak up to take a picture because I liked the way he looked from the back. My dad kept saying it would never work; Prince would realise I was there and turn before I took the picture. I got right up behind him and took the picture; he did not turn around once, or even flick his ears back. Not even when I walked back with a smug grin. My dad was not impressed – kept sighing and saying, in a highly dramatic fashion, what a waste of money it had been, all that training as a guard dog, called the poor unsuspecting dog a useless so-and-so … I remember my mum laughing so much …

All the dogs we’ve had were such characters, each and every one of them, but there was something extra special about Prince. Whenever I think about him, I realise how much I miss having a dog, and how wonderful it would be to have a dog like him … maybe one day, if the gods are smiling …

Favourites on Friday - A Prince of a Dog