a ruthless life

dogs, life in general

Mastamariner White Ensign
16 July, 2001 – 1 December, 2015


Last week, we had to say goodbye to our beloved Ruth.

It feels impossible to write about this, but I feel like I have to. I want to. The sadness is still raw and I am brittle, though my feelings are not as brutal as they were the first couple of days without her. I have decided to write this in English only, as I don’t think I could bear to write it twice.

Ruth had secondary epilepsy. Not the hereditary kind; hers was likely due to a brain tumour. She had her first seizure in January, 2014. I was away then, but Erik was with her. After seeing our veterinarian, Ruth was put on medicine to prevent further seizures. It was a while before we got the dosage right, but when we did, Ruth had a good spring, summer, and autumn. When we went to test the level of medicine in her blood in November 2014, our vet saw such low levels of the medicine that she thought we might as well remove the medicine altogether. A few weeks after that, I went to Ireland to attend my best friend’s wedding. And Ruth had another seizure. Erik was with her again, and I know how well he took care of her. Ruth went back on her medicine, and she did better again.

This summer, Ruth had her 14th birthday. A very old age for a dog. Quite naturally, she was growing slower, more tired, and a bit more unsteady with age. About a month ago, Erik and I sat down to talk about Ruth’s health. The last thing I wanted was to make Ruth suffer, to keep her with us too long for my own sake. Ruth wasn’t seeing very well, especially when it was dark, and her hearing was decreasing, too. But on the other hand, she still seemed to enjoy her little walks, and she happily gobbled down her food twice a day. We thought that she still had good quality of life.

But last week, Ruth had another seizure, the first one while being on medication. The first one that I was here for. Erik had seen Ruth recover from two other fits, and she had come through those quite quickly. This was different. After the seizure, she couldn’t walk properly, she seemed very disoriented and anxious, but also so very, very tired. She couldn’t settle, but she couldn’t walk around, either. My insides were ice cold and I was so afraid. I think that I understood that it was time, but I didn’t want to understand. We called our vet, and decided to go there for a professional opinion.

I didn’t put Ruth in the car crate, but kept her next to me on the back seat. The last few months, she had been a bit anxious in the car and wouldn’t lie down, but that night she fell asleep next to me. Her little head rested on my lap and she was so warm. When we arrived at the vet’s and I lifted her out of the car, she wouldn’t stand or walk. I carried her inside. We talked to the vet, discussed options. But really, I think that I already knew the best option, the only option for Ruth. It was time.

I called Catherine, Ruth’s breeder and other owner. I couldn’t make this decision without her. I think that it was even more difficult for Catherine, because she couldn’t see how poorly Ruth was. But she said exactly what I needed to hear: “I trust you. You have always done what’s best for Ruth, and I know that you will now, too.”

Erik had been cooking beef burgers for dinner. He had brought a couple of patties in a tub, to give Ruth a treat if needed. So, while the vet administered the sedative, we were feeding Ruth pieces of burger meat. She ate, slower than usual but still. She fell asleep with a piece in her mouth. And all the time, we held her and stroked her and told her how much we loved her and how much we would miss her, and that she was the most perfect and wonderful and amazing dog in the world.

I don’t want to write about getting home that night, without her, or the next few days. How strange it is that a small house with three other dogs in it can seem so empty. I have suffered other losses in my life, but none of them affected my daily life this much. No other absence has ever been this painfully and heartbreakingly evident.

It’s a little bit better now. I’m still sad, and writing this makes me cry a flood, of course. But the grief is not quite as all-consuming. Last weekend, I sat down to look at pictures of Ruth from her whole life, beginning with the spring of 2009 when I brought her over to live with me in Sweden. I fully expected to cry – I’d put a fresh box of Kleenex on my desk – but to my great surprise I didn’t. In every single picture, Ruth was running at top speed or snoozing in a comfy place or being fed treats or enjoying the company of various people. In my pictures, she was glowing with health and strength and joie de vivre. It gave me a very powerful perspective on how old she’d really grown in the last year. It didn’t make me miss her any less, but it gave me some comfort because I felt that I had made the right decision to let her go.

The pictures gave me another powerful insight. I couldn’t look past the fact that Ruth really, really did have a wonderful life. Catherine put it so well: “I held Ruth as she was born and you held her as she died. There was never a day between that she was not loved and cherished.”

So, that’s what I want to do now. I want to share some glimpses of Ruth’s life, and our story.


Ruth is the dark puppy in front, on top of the blue one. Picture by Catherine Everitt.

Ruth was born on the 16th of July, 2001, almost a year before I met her for the first time. But I’ve heard the story about her birth so many times that I almost felt like I was there for it. She was born as the last of five pups in her litter. And as Catherine held her and rubbed her dry, before Ruth had even had her first fill of milk, Catherine chose her. She boldly exclaimed, “This is the one!” Ruth was special from the moment she was born.


Baby Ruth, taking it all in. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Having a cuddle with daddy Graham in the office. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Partners in crime – Ruth and the goldie pup Dusty. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Ruth with her family. Auntie Marie, mother Deborah, father Hercules, and daddy Graham. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Ruth’s first snow. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Beautiful girl in the bluebells, spring of 2002. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Playing with her aunt and best friend, Esther. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Stunning youngster. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Showing off her movement, spring of 2002. Picture by Catherine Everitt.

In the early months of 2002, I was contemplating what to do after graduation in the summer. I really wanted to work with dogs, and preferably in England. I don’t know why, but I had always felt drawn to the British Isles. I had heard of someone who had worked abroad as a “dog au pair”. So, I went online and put in “dog + au pair” in the search engine. The first search hit led me to a green homepage, for kennel Mastamariner. In England. With Golden Retrievers, and Border Collies – the breed that I was as much as love in as I was with England. It seemed too good to be true. I put together my application very carefully. I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted to go there and work. I was thrilled when we agreed that I should join them in the summer. I spent hours and hours on the Mastamariner website, admiring all the dogs and learning their names. My favourite was a Border Collie boy called Scrumpy – he looked just like the dogs in my childhood storybooks. I didn’t really notice the young girl with the dark face that was Ruth…


Ruth, spring of 2002. This is exactly how I remember her from the first day we met. Picture by Catherine Everitt.

I arrived at Mastamariner around midday on June 25, 2002. I met all the dogs and I was given a tour of the house – everything was exactly as I had pictured it and I was thrilled. We had a cup of tea, and then the afternoon lull settled in. And then, out of nowhere, I became desperately homesick. I’d never been abroad alone before. What had I done? Left all of my family and friends and everything familiar. I wandered outside and sat down on the ground. I was just about to burst into tears when I noticed that someone had come up to me. It was the girl with the dark face. With the tiny nose and the huge ears. Her tail was wagging swiftly. She put her paws on me, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

And that was it. I forgot all of my homesickness, and I fell instantly, absolutely in love with that little dog. Just like she had charmed Catherine from the moment she was born, she charmed me from the day that we met. I loved all of the dogs at the kennel, but Ruth was my favourite.


Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Picture by Catherine Everitt.

We had a completely blissful first summer together. I thrived at Mastamariner. The work suited me perfectly and Catherine and Graham encouraged me in everything from dog training to photography. Ruth was constantly by my side and we had all sorts of fun together. Catherine and I agreed that Ruth was entirely perfect – hence her epithet, Perfect Ruth – all while Graham grumbled good-naturedly that we were spoiling her rotten and being completely blind to her slightly naughty side. But Ruth was never pushy or demanding. She was just completely irresistible, sweet, and fun.


Picture by Catherine Everitt.

Ruth was my ideal dog, but I knew that I could never have her, because she was Catherine’s special girl, too. She was destined to stay at the kennel and, besides enjoying life there, pass on her fabulus genes to a new generation of fabulous Mastamariners. So, I aimed for the next best thing – a sister from the same parents as Ruth. I left for Christmas in Sweden in December 2002, and returned later in 2003 to pick up my little Ruth sister, Aska. I thought that it would be easier to leave Ruth behind when I had my very own Border Collie girl, but it wasn’t. I loved Aska then as I love her now, but she could never replace Ruth.

After a year and a half in Sweden, Aska and I returned to England and Mastamariner in 2004. This was the summer that Sirius was born and I was allowed to keep him. My three favourite dogs in the world – Ruth, Aska, and Sirius – were all in the same place and I couldn’t be happier.




In 2004, Ruth and her parents graced part of the front and a whole page of the Pedigree calendar as they represented the Border Collie breed.


Ruth and her sister Rachel, spring of 2004 before I returned. Picture by Catherine Everitt.


Reunited at last! Summer of 2004. Picture by Charlotte Ragnarsson.


In the fall of 2004, I got to enjoy Ruth’s babies, too.


Ruth with her son, Toby.


With her daughter, Skye.


An outing in Basingstoke with Johanna, Charlotte, Severus, and Rachel.

In January of 2004, my “kennel dad” Graham had started up his own dog training company. This company offered basic level agility classes, which meant that Mastamariner now had its own agility course. Ruth and I had learned all of the agility obstacles together in the summer of 2002. So, when I first got back in 2004 and the new kennel girls suggested that we take a couple of runs around the agility course, I naturally wanted to take Ruth. They laughed a little at this – Ruth, run agility? They said that she was so slow! I couldn’t believe this, and indeed, when I took Ruth through the agility course she ran like the wind. Of course, I’m biased and human and I always liked to think that I was special to Ruth, but this still seemed like some small proof that I really was.


Picture by Catherine Everitt.

In the spring of 2005, I had to leave England again. This time I had both Aska and Sirius to take with me, but it was no easier to leave Ruth behind. For purely selfish reasons, of course – I knew that Ruth couldn’t be better looked after. She was happy and loved and spoiled and enjoyed a very full life.


I spent the next few years studying and working, and I loved the company of my Ruth siblings Aska and Sirius. But I always missed her. Whenever I wrote to Catherine or Graham, I always requested that they should give Ruth a special cuddle and kiss from me. She was never gone from my mind. I could not quite let her go.

Ruth retired from her motherly duties in 2008. Later that year, I jokingly wrote to Catherine that I would come and kidnap Ruth. You cannot imagine my surprise and wonder when Catherine replied that she thought I should do just that. They had never, ever rehomed a retired dog before. I know that some breeders routinely rehome their bitches when they can no longer have puppies, but that was not the case at all at Mastamariner. Ruth was so loved there, and she was so special to Catherine in particular. And still, Catherine was willing to let Ruth go because she knew how much I loved her, too.

My whole heart screamed, “Yes, YES!” but I did not make the decision at once. I sat down and tried to think about it objectively. Could I give Ruth a life as good as the one she already had? What could I offer her? In the end, I decided that I could give her exactly what she already had, but also a bit more special attention, as I only had two dogs and there were many more at the kennel. I couldn’t quite believe it, still. Was I really going to be allowed to have Ruth, my dream dog? In March, 2009, I went over there to make this dream come true.


An unremarkable picture, perhaps, but in this moment my heart is bursting with joy. Ruth is mine! She’ll be coming home with me!
Picture by Sabina Svensson.


Of course, in March 2009 there was still lots of snow in Sweden! But Ruth didn’t seem to mind.


Reunited with her little brother Sirius and her little sister Aska. This sight made me feel like the richest person in the world.


Snow games.


Meeting my goddaughter Turid for the first time.

Ruth embraced her new life in Sweden with gusto. She’d been a picky eater in England, but after only a few weeks in Sweden, she started eating better. The kennel had always had many visitors so she was used to meeting many new people and always enjoyed that. Now, she got to see many new places, too. If her ever-wagging tail was any indication, I believe that she enjoyed it all very much.




On a trip to the mountains, June 2009.


Patiently waiting for her photographing mum… Picture by Gittan Lingdell.


Mountain snuggles. Picture by Gittan Lingdell.


My niece Stella was very afraid of dogs when she was little, but Ruth emanated a calmness that Stella could sense.


Out on a fishing trip – my grandmother giving sausage to Ruth and their Schnauzer Molly.


“Which treat would you like first, precious?”



In the summer of 2009, Ruth’s siblings and I taught her to eat blueberries from the sprigs.
This was all very well, thought Ruth, but it was much more practical to eat straight from my bucket!


The Perfect Ruth and me – the luckiest girl in the world.

In the autumn of 2009, we moved north to Sundsvall where I started at university again. More new places to explore and more new friends to meet. This was also where I, a year later, fell in love with Erik and he and Tintin joined our life. I could not have asked for a better daddy for Ruth.


My favourite study buddy.


Marie, who was at Mastamariner when Ruth was born, is originally from Sundsvall,
so when she came home to visit her family she paid us a visit, too!




Supervising the gingerbread decorations with some of our friends in Sundsvall.


Ruth only tried tracking once. She didn’t think much of it, but she was very impressed with me for finding her treat at the end! Picture by Elaine Rodin.


The ever patient Ruth, letting my little cousin Adele play with her.


There was always a treat for Ruth.


The Perfect Ruth.


With her new adopted little brother Tintin, January 2011.


And with her daddy Erik.





Picture by Erik.



Picture by Erik.



Picture by Erik.

Ruth was not a “one man dog” – she loved people and people loved her. But I was special to her. She chose me that first day in the summer of 2002, and she kept on choosing me. She was not anxious about being close to me, but to her very last day, she would always get up and follow me, and settle wherever I decided to sit. I was her safe point, and she was mine. When I called my grandmother to let her know that Ruth was gone, she said: “What a gift it was for you to have been so important to Ruth.” And that’s exactly how I saw it, as a gift. I have no idea why Ruth and “clicked”. I can’t explain it. I just know that we did. Instant, mutual love that lasted all of her life and that will last of all of mine.


Photo by Erik.


Photo by Erik.





Photo by Erik.




Someone, I don’t remember who it was, questioned my decision to bring Ruth over to Sweden. What was the point in taking on a dog that old? We would have such a short time together. But where love is concerned, time doesn’t really matter. I loved Ruth every day from when I met her, whether she was with me or not. I would have brought her home even for only a year, or six months. As it was, she spent six and a half years with me here. I promised Catherine and Graham when I took Ruth from them that I would give her the very best life that I was capable of. When I look through all of my pictures – of everyday moments and big adventures alike – I feel like I did my best to fulfil that promise.







In the autumn of 2012, we moved to Ruth’s last home in the woods of Värmland. Ruth was 11 years old.
Our new neighbour had a cross between Border Collie and Tervueren called Kimi. He was 10 years old and became Ruth’s boyfriend.


In the early months of 2014, after Ruth had her first seizures, the new medicine made her very hungry. We went through a lot of carrots!


With our dear friend Anna.


“Please scratch my butt!”


Just looking to see if we remembered to bring the treats…



Photo by Erik.


In July of 2014, Catherine and Graham came all the way from England to celebrate Ruth’s 13th birthday with us.


Of course, there had to be cake.


As the saying went: “There are no kisses like Ruth kisses.”


In the beginning of 2015, Ruth was still on the move. In the summer, when she was almost 14 years old, we went for a full day’s hike and walked 11 kilometres and she came along without a problem. Of course, we kept a slower pace so not to tire her out. I remember that people kept complaining about the weather this summer, it was too cool. But I was grateful, because it meant that it wasn’t too hot for the dogs, Ruth in particular.

In the autumn, I couldn’t look past the fact that Ruth was slowing down. She didn’t seem to enjoy her walks as much – we were walking slower and slower, and sometimes I felt like the only reason that she kept walking forward was so that she wouldn’t lose sight of me.



Photo by Erik.




Out on our long hike. Photo by Erik.







From my last proper photo session with Ruth.

So, here I am now. Ruthless. I have three other wonderful dogs and we are expecting a puppy. They help keep me above the surface. They give me something to look forward to. But they can’t replace Ruth – I learned a long time ago that no one will ever be able to do that.

I am sad, but I am also endlessly grateful. To Ruth, for choosing me. For seeing my distress on a June afternoon thirteen years ago, for kissing my face and making all the bad feelings go away. For all the joy she brought to my life. We simply enjoyed each other. We never proved anything to anyone. Ruth didn’t show her qualities through ribbons or trophies, yet she was liked by every single person she met. She was kind and gentle, sweet and funny. No one was ever afraid of Ruth, because anyone could sense how kind-hearted she was. We called her Perfect Ruth jokingly, but that was what she really was – perfect. I would not have changed a single thing about her.

I am grateful to Catherine and Graham, too. For being so incredibly unselfish and letting Ruth come and live with me. I can’t really put into words how very thankful I am. But I think that they know.

I don’t know if I believe in an afterlife of some kind. I hope that there is more. But I don’t know if I can believe it. I hope that I will see Ruth again, but I’m not counting on it. Even so, I would not trade my time with her for anything in the world. She is such a huge part of who I am, she has shaped the way I look at the world and at other dogs. There is a quote that comes to my mind: “Oh, how am I going to live without you?” – “Take the love you have for me, and spread it around.” I hope to be able to do just that.

Thank you, Ruth. For everything.

So this is where we part my friend
and you’ll run on, around the bend
Gone from sight, but not from mind
new pleasures there you’ll surely find

I will go on, I’ll find the strength
life measures quality, not its length
One long embrace before you leave
share one last look before I grieve

There are others, that much is true
but they are they, they aren’t you
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought
will remember all you’ve taught

Your place I’ll hold, you will be missed
the fur I stroked, the nose I kissed
And as you journey to your final rest,
take with you this… I loved you best

Jim Willis, 2002


grattis på födelsedagen, tintin! / happy birthday, tintin!

1 Comment








Fem år. En alldeles perfekt och njutbar ålder. Vid det här laget vet vi precis vem du är, samtidigt som vi fortfarande har många år kvar att få njuta av varandra och utvecklas tillsammans. Du är fortfarande utan tvekan den roligaste och mest färgstarka hund jag har träffat. Älskar dig av hela mitt stora mattehjärta, världens bästa Tintin! ♥

Five years old. A perfect and enjoyable age. By now, we know exactly who you are, and at the same time we still have many years left to enjoy each other’s company and get better at working together. You are still, without a doubt, the funniest and most charistmatic dog that I’ve ever met. I love you with all of my heart, fabulous Tintin! ♥

hej orion! / hello, orion!










Ett svårt val, med så många fina valpar. Men ändå enkelt. Den röda pojken är en glad och busig valp, men ändå lugn och trygg. Han gillar leksaker och godbitar och är hur gosig – och gullig! – som helst. Så det blev han. Orion. Som jag har längtat och drömt. Sju veckor liten idag.

Nu ska jag göra det mesta av våra dagar tillsammans, för sedan ses vi inte förrän i mellandagarna efter jul, då han äntligen får flytta hem till oss i Sverige. ♥

It was a difficult choice, with so many lovely puppies. But still, somehow, an easy choice. The red boy is a happy and playful puppy, but he also seems calm and sensible. He likes toys and treats and he is so cuddly – and cute, of course! So, he is the one. Orion. How I have waited for, and dreamed about, you. Seven weeks young today.

Now, I’m going to make the most of our days together, because then we won’t see each other until after Christmas, when he can finally join us in Sweden. ♥


something purple this way comes…

dogs, life in general
1 Comment

Nu börjar det bli på riktigt. Om tolv dagar så åker jag till England, för att spendera fem dagar hos mina uppfödare och träffa och välja vår nya familjemedlem. Iiih! Jag känner mig så glad och förväntansfull. Det kommer att bli tufft sen, för enligt gällande importregler så får vi inte hämta hem valpen förrän den är 15 veckor gammal. Rabiesvaccin får ges tidigast vid 12 veckors ålder och sedan måste man vänta i 21 dagar innan man reser. Men den som väntar på något gott…

Valpen har redan fått “sin” färg. I flocken så har Ruth gult, Aska rött/rosa, Sirius blått och Tintin grönt. Valpen har därför fått – lila! Och idag kom det här helt underbara paketet från vår favoritshop Vildhunden.se!

It’s beginning to feel real, now. In only twelve days, I’ll be going to England to spend five days at “my” kennel, where I’ll be meeting and choosing our new family member. I’m so happy and excited about it! It will be tough after I’ve been there, because due to current import regulations, we’re not allowed to bring the puppy to Sweden until it’s 15 weeks old. Rabies vaccination can’t be given before 12 weeks of age, and then we have to wait an additional 21 days before the puppy can travel. But it’s something well worth waiting for!

I’ve already chosen the puppy’s own colour. In our pack, Ruth has yellow, Aska red/pink, Sirius blue, and Tintin green. So the puppy will get – purple! Today, we received this package from our favourite shop, Vildhunden.se!


Tack snälla, snälla Vildhunden! :D / Thank you so much, Vildhunden! :D


Älskar halsbandet från Cycle Dog – gjort av återvunnen cykelslang (bra miljötänk!), mycket ställbart (perfekt till växande valpis!) och supersnyggt!
I love the collar from Cycle Dog – made from a recycled bicycle tube (environment friendly!), very adjustable (perfect for a growing pup!), and gorgeous!



Tintin var snäll och hjälpte mig att visa upp halsbandet – visst är det tjusigt!
Tintin was kind enough to help me model the collar – isn’t it great!


Redan en välutrustad valp! ;) / Already a well equipped puppy! ;)

livet med storflock / life with a bigger pack

dogs, life in general

Som ni kanske har märkt av det ökade lapphundsinnehållet på både blogg, Instagram och Facebook, så är vi hundvakter till Finn och Lumi ett par veckor. De kom hit i söndags, och de första dagarna var det lite svettigt och rörigt innan vi kommit in i rutinerna. Men nu verkar alla ha funnit sin plats i flocken och något sorts rytm har infunnit sig. Finn är otroligt lättsam att ha att göra med, hänger med på allt och är lugn och fin inomhus. Lumi fyller 12 veckor idag och är precis som en valp ska vara – glad, busig och kavat. Och förstås GULLIG! ;) Bjuder här på några blandade bilderna från de senaste dagarna. Trevlig helg alla bloggbesökare!

As you may have noticed from all the Lapphund pictures on my blog, Instagram, and Facebook account, we’re dog-sitting Finn and Lumi for a couple of weeks. They came over on Sunday, and the first couple of days were a bit stressful and disorganised, before we found our routines. Now, however, everyone seems to have settled in their place in our big pack, and we’ve found a rhythm that works. Finn is very easy-going; he’s up for any kind of adventure, but is nice and calm indoors. Lumi just turned 12 weeks old today, and is just what a puppy should be – happy, mischievous, and forward. And of course, CUTE! ;) Here are a some pictures from past few days. Have a lovely weekend, everyone!

















den som gapar efter mycket… / grasp all…

Comments Off on den som gapar efter mycket… / grasp all…





…mister inte alltid hela stycket! Skickligt, Lumi! / …lose all – or not! You have some skill, Lumi!

RLD F och om vikten av att få mogna

dogs, life in general, people, rallylydnad


Foto av Anna Brändström.

I lördags tävlade jag och Tintin fortsättningsklass i rallylydnad igen. Vi fick vår tredje godkända runda, och därmed titeln RLD F! Vi tappade tyvärr 10 poäng för fel övning vid momentet “sväng höger, sitt”, då Tintin kom lite före mig, satte sig ner och sen reste sig och rättade in sig själv i fotposition där han satte sig igen innan jag hann göra något. Men snacka om lyxproblem, att jag har en sån fin och uppmärksam kille som vill göra sitt bästa och vara på rätt ställe. Ett litet poäng till försvann i momentet “sitt, stå, gå runt” då han rörde en tass. Kvar blev alltså 89 poäng och en sprudlande glad matte.

Jag tittar med förundran på vårt i övrigt fina, blanka protokoll – inget nos, inget bristande samarbete. Inget flams eller flum. Jag önskar att jag hade fått vår runda filmad för Tintin gjorde verkligen sin finaste tävling någonsin. Under fotgåendet hoppade han plötsligt till i ett par spontana glädjeskutt. Inte på mig, utan bara rätt upp i luften. Det har aldrig hänt förut men det var så tydligt att han gjorde det för att han hade roligt och trivdes på planen vid min sida.


Foto av Anna Brändström.

När vi kom ut från banan och hade belönat så log en medtävlande mot mig och sa att hon tyckte att det sett väldigt fint ut. Jag tackade henne och sen slank den vanliga frasen ur mig: “Tintin är en såndär varannan dag-hund. Ena dagen går han jättefint och andra dagen blir det bara vims, haha!” Men sen när jag satt mig i min stol och tävlingsruset lagt sig lite så insåg jag att det inte alls är så längre. När jag tänker efter så är det väldigt länge sedan som Tintin var flamsig. Nej, jag menar inte att han alltid har perfekt kontakt och fokus nuförtiden, men hans gamla sätt, då han kunde bli helt utstörd av ett löv som prasslade och sen inte kunna koncentrera sig mer, det är borta.

Den här lilla hunden, som på sin första kurs på brukshundklubben spenderade sitt första kurstillfälle med att stå längst ut i kopplet och skälla/gnälla/skrika okontrollerat, gjorde alltså i lördags en rallyrunda som hade kunnat resultera i 99 poäng om det inte varit för en liten miss. Förstår ni vilken resa han har gjort, hur han har utvecklats och mognat! Då, den där gången på brukshundklubben, var han två och ett halvt år gammal. Strax över två år, då tycker nog de flesta att hundar ska ha lugnat sig och kommit ner med tassarna på jorden. Hur många skulle då ha dömt ut Tintin som “omöjlig”?

Jag ställer inte frågan för att stryka mig själv medhårs eller att påstå att jag är någon fantastisk hundtränare. Tvärtom – det finns garanterat massor av människor därute som skulle kunna ha förvaltat Tintins förmågor mycket bättre än jag har gjort. Men jag vet också att det finns många som inte skulle ha haft tålamod med hans bristande fokus. Många som hade dömt ut honom, kasserat honom, bytt hund.

Det pågår ständigt diskussioner på bloggar och forum om omplacering, huruvida det är rätt eller fel att sälja en hund som inte lever upp till ens förväntningar och istället skaffa en ny. Jag är av åsikten att alla måste få välja själva och inte bli dömda för det – det gör varken förare eller hund lycklig om en behåller en hund som en inte är nöjd med, kanske inte ens tycker om. Jag har särskilt stor förståelse för omplacering när det är en hund som är tänkt till ett specifikt jobb, typ jakt eller vall eller tjänst. Då kanske en varken har tid eller råd att behålla hunden om den inte klarar sin uppgift, oavsett hur mycket en tycker om den.

Hobbyhundar då? Som sagt, jag tycker inte att en ska behålla en hund som en inte är nöjd med. Men! Jag hoppas att de som omplacerar tävlingshundar på grund av bristande potential verkligen har gett hundarna en ärlig chans. Ibland behövs det tid. Tid att få växa och mogna. Tintin fyller fem år nästa månad och har blommat ut till en underbar tränings- och tävlingskompis. Vem hade trott det om den tvååriga gaphalsen på brukshundklubben våren 2012? :)


Bakdelskontroll – inga problem! Foto av Anna Brändström.

Själv har jag skaffat mina hundar i första hand som familjemedlemmar och i andra hand som tränings- och tävlingskompisar. Så för mig personligen så går individ framför prestation till 99 %. Så länge hundarna är friska och glada och vardagen fungerar bra så är jag helt nöjd. Resten är bara grädde på moset. :) Samtidigt så försöker jag att vara så öppensinnad som möjligt. Ingen omplaceringshistoria är den andra lik och jag försöker att aldrig döma någon.

Men visst är jag glad att jag aldrig gav upp på Tintin. Sirius må vara mycket enklare att träna och tävla, men känslan som jag hade efter målgången med Tintin i lördags slår det mesta som jag har upplevt i hundväg. Motgångar kanske inte är så kul, men de får framgångarna att kännas så mycket mäktigare.


Världens finaste trollunge! ♥ Foto av Anna Brändström.

hjärtepojkar / boys of my heart

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mjau! / meow!

various creatures

Förra veckan fotograferade jag min vän Märits fina ungkatter, hennes egenuppfödda bengal Anna och huskatten Henrik. Vi hade tyvärr ingen vidare tur med vädret, men några bilder blev det ändå. Henrik tyckte att skogsutflykten var häftig, medan Anna var lite mer skeptisk. :)

Last week, I photographed my friend Märit’s beautiful young cats, Anna the Bengal of her own breeding, and Henric the Domestic Shorthair. Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t on our side, but we still managed a few pictures. Henrik thought that the trip to the woods was exciting, but Anna was a bit more sceptical. :)













strandhäng / beach games

dogs, people
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