Trixie by Diane Wilsher / Diane & Julie

Trixie’s story began in September 1987 when she was 8 weeks old. Julie and I didn’t have a dog for 10 years. The previous dog belonged to Dad and his name was Kim. He was 15 when euthanized in 1977.

In the middle 80’s, I helped to look after my friend’s two ponies. Copper was a dark bay and 13.2 hands high and bought in a shocking state of health for £50.00. Sian learned to ride with her and she had her for about two years when she outgrew Copper and needed a bigger pony whom she had plans to show jump.

Then Sian’s parents bought her an Anglo Arab grey mare called Grey Dawn who was 14.2 hands high. I looked after her until 1987 when Sian lost interest in the pony and started going out with boys. It felt that Grey Dawn belonged to me and when they sold her I was heartbroken.

One day after the pony had gone to it’s new home I was crying and Julie said “Shall we go to Cardiff?” “Ok” I replied so we went shopping. On the way down in the bus, Julie said “Shall we have a dog?” Staring at her with disbelief, I asked “Can we afford to look after and feed it? Can we afford the vet’s bills if it became ill?” “Yes we could,” said Julie, confidently. “I don’t see why not”

Hour and a half later we reached Cardiff (Wales’ Capital City) and we made our way to the local indoor Market. We went upstairs and we looked around looking for a dog.

We approached Chas Rutter’s stall and they had puppies for sale in cages. Julie approached the woman who’s name was Betty.
“How much are the puppies?” Julie asked
“£8.00, love” said Betty. “I wouldn’t have that one as he’s a Lurcher.” “Ok” said Julie and moved on to the other set of cages. We walked around that Market 3 times, hoping that Betty would drop the price, but she didn’t.

On the third walk around Betty showed us these Labrador/Collie x pups and said “I know the one.” She went to the cage and pulled out the smallest of the litter, who was sleeping at the back of the cage. The puppy was all black. “How old is she?” I asked. “8 weeks ” said Betty. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” enthused Julie. “Is she still £8.00?” “Yes, said Betty. Betty put the little bundle of black puppy in my arms and that was it. The pony forgotten, I fell in love with the little pup that was licking me all over my face. Betty could see that we were meant to have her. “What are you going to call her?” asked Betty.

Julie thought for a moment then said “Trixie.” And we bought her along with her first collar and lead and food.

The morale of this story is, that puppy lived until she was 15 years old and is also remembered in the Tributes and Poems section and died 6 months ago from cancer.

Every time we went to Cardiff we would buy something for her at that Market stall and Betty was heartbroken when she heard of the death.


With fond memories,
Diane Wilsher