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