He was my first best friend. There is a photo of us together, sitting on the back step in the sunshine sharing an ice lolly. His head is resting on my shoulder and a hopeful tongue sticks out to catch the drips. I must have been two years old that summer, and I had known no life that didn’t have him in it.
His name was Toby and he was a Welsh Corgi. My memory of him is a blur of red fur and an eager, foxy face always tilted up towards mine awaiting the next adventure. His pricked-up ears would lie back with pleasure when you stroked him. There is one other memory. The day he died, me, a teenager by then, lying next to him on the kitchen floor so close I could feel each laboured breath. My friend was leaving.
Wow, I cried when I wrote that sentence. And it must be 40 years. Incredible how some small chamber of the heart keeps the love for them alive.
But the Kennel Club says that the Pembroke Welsh Corgi is dying out. Only 274 puppies were registered in 2014. In the past, the Club has blamed the breed’s decline on its association with “the elderly”. The corgi’s most famous fan is Queen Elizabeth, who has owned more than 30 during her reign.
It’s not Her Majesty’s fault the corgi faces extinction. Blame New Labour. The interfering meddlers put a ban on tail docking, which led to many breeders throwing in the lead because it spoiled the look of the breed and demand dropped off.
Now we dormant corgi fans must come to the rescue before it’s too late. Away with modish mutts like pugs and doodles! I’m sure the poodles won’t mind a new friend with sticky-up ears. Just don’t mention it to Himself, OK?
