My family has always wanted to own a dog. We tried unsuccessfully to retrieve the rescuer who was refusing to take him for walks and was exhibiting extreme anger and urinating on the carpet. So, when an elderly woman who lived across the street from us told us that her dog Flossie (an orange and white border collie mix) had become pregnant in what she called a “car accident,” her then-husband, a young My two sons and I said, We said that the puppy might be just the pet we were looking for.
And it was proven. We all instantly fell in love with Flossie’s puppies. She was an adorable little creature. But what was he going to call her? Shirley Williams, then education secretary, had announced plans to close the small teaching college in Scarborough where my husband was a lecturer. I no longer remember whether it was him or me who suggested, “If we call our puppy Shirley Williams and train him, we can say that Shirley Williams will do what we say.”
The name stuck. The puppy had black and brown fur and seemed a bit unruly. It didn’t seem like an inappropriate name at all.
We lived near the sea in a village in North Yorkshire. Shirley started hating anglers in waders and started nibbling on their rubber-covered heels. On holidays in our favorite part of north Wales, we often tied her to the windbreak to prevent her from chasing anglers on the beach. As far as I know, she never did any damage. However, she had an annoying habit of chasing cricket balls at the local recreation ground.
Shirley was also popular with the students at the elementary school where my husband supervised the teaching practice. I still have a painting somewhere by one of those students titled “I lac Shirley.”
We eventually moved to Wiltshire where Shirley spent her last few years. Until our house in Yorkshire was sold, we were renting the house of a local primary school caretaker. When we came back from drinking at the local pub and heard Shirley howling, I realized that Shirley didn’t like being left alone at home. Since then, she started working with me and was happy to sit in the car while I worked at school. After we bought a house near the outskirts of Swindon, we enjoyed the fields and countryside on our doorstep and she was happy to spend her early mornings and late afternoons running at home.
Shirley lived to be about 17 years old. She survived my oldest son going to college, leaving home for his first job, and the end of my marriage. She passed away at home while my younger son was away at Venture Scout camp. By that time, I had another pet, a cat inherited from my oldest son’s dormitory. But Shirley will always have a special place in our hearts.
