Sunny puppy


Sunny by name...sunny by nature

I'm besotted with a golden-eyed, bundle of soft, brown puppy called Sunny! For those that may have read my previous article about losing our spaniel, Woody, you will understand the significance of this little fella coming into our lives. Sunny chose us before he could walk confidently when he was a wriggling, half a handful, snuggled into a puddle of puppy siblings.

Once he came to live with us we couldn't move from home until he was old enough to be alone and took the opportunity of an autumn holiday in Spain. John's oldest friend, Jeff, and his partner, Cheryl, invited us to join them in a remote, mountain village, Canillas de Albaida, about 50K inland from Malaga; an enclave of clustered white-washed homes, wrapped around with olive, avocado and citrus orchards, dominated by an impressive landscape of forests and canyons and a river carving through a steep gorge, its banks flush with the sun-warmed, savoury scent of wild thyme and rosemary.

The village, generated from and integrated with the fabric of the mountain, was a labyrinth of narrow streets and alleys, not dissimilar to the 'opes' in St. Ives and Mousehole. The house, that Jeff and Cheryl rented, was fused into rock; very old, 500 years old..... and very dark and very spooky. Religious objects; crosses, icons of virgins clutching grotesquely simpering babies were nailed to walls and doors: in seemingly spiritual contrast, one windowless, creepy, crypt-like room, had an old wooden table covered in a shabby, dark red, brocade cloth; black candles dripped paralysed, contorted dust-covered wax globs from black, wrought iron candlesticks...a scenario for the perpetrators of the Inquisition?

John and Jeff have been friends since teenage years and played their guitars in bands at venues around London, but since living in Cornwall and Jeff now in Devon, hadn't performed together 'seriously' for forty+ years. So Jeff's news on our arrival in Spain, that he's set up a gig in a local restaurant, was met with apprehension - it wasn't as if neither of them hadn't been playing during the 'break'.... just not with each other or performing the same repertoire, Consequently, they had to rehearse for three days; find songs, the right keys and work on harmonies before compiling a set list. As for me: I absconded to the local pool to soak up the sun.

They were playing outside in a lovely plaza. It was one of those magical, warm evenings that eludes us in Cornwall; balmy air, bourgainvillea cascading from balconies and the audience relaxed, anticipating good food and music, hosted by the proprietor, the flamboyant Gustavo, who, unlike the stereotypical Spanish cafe owner oozing swarthy charm, aspired to be a 'wannabee' surf dude... aviator shades, bleached streaks and pink, flowery shirt. The 'boys' set the gear up and while Jeff and Cheryl did their set, John and I had dinner under the stars, enjoying food ( roast goat leg) and local wine and being with friends.

Playing in Spain Spanish garden pot mountain poppies plants in Spain

However, the rain in Spain might fall mainly on the plain but it also lashes down on Andalusian villages! The heavens opened. Six months of pent up rain let loose. So many people. so much electric sound equipment, so much food.... all so wet! John and Jeff grabbed, mics, guitars, amps, speakers and found shelter in doorways, while I rescued my wine glass. John may have had gigs called off for all manner of reasons... but had never had a gig 'rained-off"...but, hey, hold on, these guys have been around for a while: cancel a gig for a drop of rain - no way! The guests had all sprinted inside the restaurant, so John, Jeff and Cheryl used guitars and a simple amp for a spontaneous set of jazz, latin and rock standards in front of a delighted audience, responding to the spirit of the occasion with requests and singing along... so much for three days rehearsing!

The holiday over; we flew into Exeter without a backward thought of Spain, so excited that we were picking up our puppy from Saltash en route. We've had him for a few weeks and he's made himself completely at home. An adorable wiggly, bundle of mischief, making his presence felt more every day, who's old enough to take for walks and join in the free-for-all, 'socialising' at Puppy Parties.

To be honest, we'd become used to being dog-free and enjoying our independence but this little guy is a game changer. The house has come back to life and is filled with fun and squeaky toys. After the heartbreak of losing Woody, I was determined that I'd keep an emotional safe distance, but it's too late; Sunny by name and sunny by nature, is dragging me into that place deep beyond his golden eyes where one look says, ' I'm yours unconditionally, I'll make you laugh, I'll walk by your side, I'll rest my head on your lap, just be there for me.... even though I've just chewed your best silk cushion and I'm not quite house-trained".

In the lyrics of the song... " Sunny, thank you for the love, you brought my way"

email to a
                                friend Email this page to a friend
Home | About Us | Previous | Ramblings | Contact | What You Say | Calligraphy | Links | Copywriting | Sitemap