Our Dog Dot

My father was a great lover of animals. When he went to Dublin he would invariably visit the Zoo in Phoenix Park. He had done so since his Garda training time in the Depot. Sometimes he would pay a visit to the dogs’ home. On one such visit he was smitten by a crossbred white coated terrier and next day arrived back in Dromahair with her. We loved her at first sight and named her Dot because she had a spot on her forehead. Her first night was spent down the garden rooting under a tree to get at rats.

She would go hunting with us. Sometimes she would go on her own and come back on her own. The farmers didn’t mind her because she didn’t worry sheep. In fact she totally ignored them.  

One Saturday we were down on the other side of the river from Stonepark on Jim Burnett’s land hunting as usual. We headed home not minding Dot. It was dusk when we arrived back and it was only then we realized that there was no Dot. This was strange because she would always be home before dark. We waited on another hour but there was still no sign of her. Something must have happened. Was she caught in some sort of trap, or did she go into a badger’s burrow and not be able to back out? We couldn’t leave her there. Wise heads concluded that she was most likely stuck in a burrow. The only solution was to dig her out. In those days there were always people around the Barrack, so it was no problem getting volunteers. I was old enough to be allowed go with the expedition. We got some equipment together; a spade, a hatchet to cut roots, a pick, crowbar, shovel and a carbide lamp. Carbide lamps were used on bicycles. The carbide when wetted produced a gas, which when lit would make a good light. They were cumbersome things. Anyway, headed by Pat Carty and my father, we made our way down the town. We crossed the Park Bridge and turned right for Jim Burnett’s and the burrows. We called out Dot’s name a few times and eventually out she came from a burrow. We were all delighted until she went underground again to continue her assault on what was probably a badger. We were back to square one until she emerged again. This time she had decided to call it a day. She didn’t mind us but just took off home to her bed in the shed next Johnson’s. By this time the carbide had burned out and we made our way back to the village by moonlight.

Next day a local woman was heard to say “wasn’t it great they got the dog”.