RIP Colonel Harlan

A lot of bad things happened to our family last year. Not least of them was the loss of our beloved little dog, Harlan. Harlan was a eight year old Cavalier King Charles spaniel. We adopted him in 2009 to be a companion for our other Cavvy, Jasper.

We had bought Jasper as a puppy from a breeder. Jasper was always Imogen's dog and she named him after a character in the Twilight books and movies. At the time, Immy was deeply into all things Twilight. She now denies any association with it. At twelve you are allowed such liberties.

We adopted Harlan from a family who was moving to Vietnam. Camilla learned of him through a Cavvy rescue website and his family brought him to our place to meet us and Jasper, so we could all determine whether it would be a feasible arrangement for all stakeholders.

It was clear from the outset that Harlan was a very different dog to Jasper. The drive made him carsick and he greeted us by vomiting on our tiles. Unlike Jasper, who was young, lean and energetic but stupid, Harlan was older and wiser. He was a little fat and a little slow getting around. Whilst Jasper had the orthodox good looks of a show dog, Harlan was funny looking and we suspected that he was well short of a purebred. He looked as if he could have easily had a wombat somewhere in the family tree. Jasper barely ate whilst Harlan was a true gourmand, looking to experience the many delicacies of people food as often as he could. The only athletic skill he possessed was an ability to leap onto a chair then a table, with astonishing speed and vigour, in order to access a plate of food that had been left for him to enjoy. Usually the meal was Charlie's.

Harlan enjoyed his moments of solitude and would find safe places in cupboards and under beds to savour being alone. He played with Jasper but only on his terms. He had no desire to be the dominant dog in our pack of two, and delighted in just being the beta male.

Harlan and I bonded. He invariably chose to sit with me on the couch or run to me for some roughhousing. He would howl with delight whenever I got home. A curious and endearing howl that was more of a yodel. Camilla joked that Harlan was my kindred spirit in dog form. We were great mates.

You may be thinking that a cavvy is hardly a man's dog. Well let's turn our mind to some real men who have owned cavvies. The starting point is of course Charles the First, who a man of profound influence with strongly held views in politics and philosophy. Charles the Second was a man's man of a king, who sowed his wild oats with gay abandon. Ronald Reagan owned cavvies, and he was the prototype conservative cold warrior President with a heart of iron. Robbie Farah owns cavvies and he packs into scrums in first grade Rugby League. My cousin Steve owns cavvies and he's a hard working tiler. Whilst not a man, my dear friend Emma has owned cavvies and she has always encouraged me to be more positive, an essential skill for getting through the long days and nights in hospital.  I understand that Chuck Norris owns three fierce cavvies with spiked collars, who can menace even Cerberus. Cavvies are cool and real men like them.

Harlan developed a liking for cane toads. For the benefit of foreign readers, cane toads are large ugly toads that were introduced into North Queensland to control the effect of cane beetles. As is often the case, the cure proved worse than the affliction and cane toads have since dominated most habitats, urban and non-urban, across the State and beyond. It is not uncommon to see and hear dozens and dozens of them lazing in a steamy suburban backyard during Summer. Part of growing up in Queensland involves learning to strike a cane toad with a nine iron.

Cane toads secrete poison from their backs so most native predators stay well away from them. Thus far, only the clever crow has learned how to successfully tackle a toad. The crow will flip the toad on its back and attack the non-toxic underbelly. Most dogs are smart enough to stay away from toads. Even Jasper could work it out. Harlan, however, was a different story. He loved them and developed a liking for the taste of toad poison.

Throughout the day, Harlan would dig around the yard, looking for toads. He would sniff around nooks and crannies, hoping to cause a toad to jump into licking range. Every night, we had to ensure he was locked indoors before dark. A few times, we had to rush him to the veterinary hospital after he'd overdosed on toad   poison. Camilla and I often said that one day the toads would get him. It was just a matter of time.


But it wasn't the toads that got him in the end. When our house became uninhabitable after the flood, Jasper and Harlan went to live with Shelley and Casey, and their dog Carlos. Carlos is a big white exuberant  labrador.  He and Jasper got on famously. Harlan, on the other hand, did not enjoy the new pack paradigm. He missed his toads and his best mate. After a few months in his new home, Harlan grew grumpy and tired. Then he got sick.

Ironically, Harlan developed cardiomyopathy, the same affliction I was to suffer a few months later. He got extremely sick and we started giving him expensive medication for his heart. Some of these drugs are part of the colourful cocktail I now take every day. We made arrangements for him to come and live with us at the townhouse, to see out his last few weeks with his family. We did what we could to make his last days happy ones and he became pleasant and endearing again.

Then one day, he got too sick for it to continue. He was in pain and there was no prospect he would get any better. We took him to the vet, said our goodbyes and gave him a last cuddle. Camilla has a great photo of me and Harlan, taken that day,which she often uses as her screen saver. The vet put him to sleep and we were sad for weeks. He was a great dog and is sorely missed.

After a few weeks, we adopted a new cavvy. She is a ditsy pup called Bobbi. Bobbi is pure red and, like Jasper, show dog attractive. But she is dumb. Very dumb. She makes Jasper look smart. Nonetheless, she is sweet and affectionate and gets along famously with Jasper. Charlie and Imogen love her dearly.

I still miss Harlan and always will. He was different and special. It will be a wonderful event for me to get back home, eventually, but I wish my little mate could have been there to be a part of it.

Until next time,