My Sparkie

Sparkie turned four years old on 1 October, so I guess I’d better write up about that. But where do I start?

I got her in November 2008, a birthday present. But Sparkie wasn’t the perfect puppy. She had more issues than a magazine. And they weren’t the usual issues a puppy has, either. Sparkie was hopeless off the lead – the moment she was unclipped, she bolted. Our activities were limited to on lead stuff. I struggled with this, finding no traditional training methods worked. So we went to the 2009 Gympie Show with Sparkie prancing like a show horse at the end of her lead. I’ll admit, we were young and silly – she was just six months and I was twelve years old. But somehow we walked away from that show with three ribbons.

I think that marked the start of our journey together, although it was by far not the start of our dedicated friendship. It was more like a grudging respect for each other – I was bitterly disappointed with how bad her recall was, and she was frustrated with me for not giving her more off lead time. I tried, really tried, but nothing was working. By the time she reached her first birthday, she was hopeless. It didn’t take long for my motivation to reach an all-time low. Sparkie’s on lead obedience was also failing miserably and I was furious. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t obey me. Eventually we came out of the rut, and not long after that we started tricks, agility, and canine freestyle. In June, I came up with the name “The Superdogs,” and that’s where our performing started. I remember our first public performance on 4 September 2010. – it was at a birthday party for a down syndrome girl. Jessica and Tess were doing it with us. I was so nervous, I could barely eat anything. But it went fine, and it was so much fun I wanted to do it again and again.

Over the next few months, Sparkie’s recall was the best it’d ever been, we were still performing for friends and family, and I felt like I was floating. Then in March 2011, my life fell apart. I don’t need to tell the whole story again, not until March next year, because it was like something out of a nightmare, only it was real. I fell, and I fell hard. I felt like I’d been ripped apart. I was struggling with guilt and grief and nobody really understood. They were all grieving too, and nobody had time to comfort me. I started walking with Sparkie, every morning, trying to get away from the heartbreak. In May, I jumped at the chance to perform at the Goomeri Pumpkin Festival, just a week after our regular Gympie Show competition. Anything to forget what had happened. But when I came down from the show high, I crashed again. I even put Sparkie up for sale, because I couldn’t handle living anymore. I fell into depression, I think. But nobody replied to the ad, and I’m so thankful for that. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, Sparkie was my lifeline.

Over the next year, we performed at the Kenilworth Show, brought another puppy, and struggled to live again. It wasn’t until after the first anniversary that I managed to pull myself together. It was like I had to learn to live again.

 

When she got sick last month, I freaked out. I hadn’t prayed much since Serenity’s death – or cried much either – but with Sparkie so close to death, I prayed like there was no tomorrow. And I cried. Because I was afraid that for Sparkie, there might be no tomorrow. But somehow she pulled through, and three weeks later she’s acting like nothing ever happened. I won’t put the whole story up here, but if you like you can read it here (part one) and here (part two).

 

I don’t know how to really explain what Sparkie does for me. I guess I’ll just start with the basics. Every morning, the moment I say “Good morning, Sparkie,” she wakes up and crawls from the foot of my bed to lie beside me. When we drive from town to town, she curls up on the seat beside me. At night, she eats her dinner while I clean my teeth, and then we crash into bed together. If I wake in the night from bad dreams, just stretching out my toes to touch her is enough to settle me down. The most therapeutic thing for me is just a simple walk with Sparkie. There’s something about having a dog at my side and the steady beat of my feet and hers hitting the path. Last month, an auntie wrote our names in the sand on the beach. She’d drawn an angel after Jireh’s name. I knew who it was meant to be. Sparkie, standing on lead beside me, suddenly nuzzled my hand. I looked down at her and stroked her head. Another time, someone pressured me to do something I felt was wrong, and I told them no, despite the name-calling that followed. When they walked off, I sat down and Sparkie came up to me and licked my arm. Somehow she had seemed to know exactly what was happening. Yes, I know I’m attached to my dog, and you know why? Because she helps me to live. She gives me the focus, the courage, and the determination to do things I could never do on my own. Right now, at this moment, Sparkie is everything to me.

 

Some of my favourite photos of our life (hover your mouse over the picture for a description) -