My Mate Barney . . .

My Mate Barney

I picked him up in Mudgee, he was only six weeks old.

Ten pups in the litter, a squirming fluffy fold.

How to choose from the throng of faces pleading me to see?

Nine laid down in the heat of the day, but one danced at my knee.


I gave him the name of Barney . . . I chose it years before.

He was what I had imagined, would be my dog for sure.

His tongue was always panting and his tail was always wagging

His coat was black and wiry . . . my brushing always lagging.


Barney slotted in so fast with the family he adopted.

And we were also just as thrilled, that we had been co-opted.

He loved the world and the world loved him

He won dog-haters with his big fetching grin.


He lived in my shadow, in shade house or beach house

Were I on a bush trip he would stand with my spouse.

She felt quite deserted – if to mountains I fled

It was then that he slept on the spare double bed!


I started a website, with little ability

I needed a fall guy to mask my senility.

An excuse to explain the failures ahead of me

So poor bloody Barney got his own identity!


Then I was dumped by those on the mail list

They addressed correspondence to the canine protagonist!

They still do it today  . . . he is now gone a year

As for Rock Lily Man; he managed his fear.


To attack by myself all the new technology

No one stood with me to share the fragility.

No one to blame when the email went wrong

I now stand alone . . . I have learnt to be strong.


Barney fell ill and I sent him to Heaven

It was his reward on November Eleven.

The Sea Wall at Harrington was our favourite place

For years we explored from our nautical base.


I still miss the mongrel, but I have passed the worst

Each dog has its day, Barney’s not the first.

My day will come too, when Heaven will call . . .

When again we will romp down the Harrington Wall.

                                                            Gerry Walsh – 2015