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JUDE'S STORY
(in her own words)

Some people think I’m a Welsh Border Collie because I look a bit like one, but my ears are like an Alsatian's, like mums.

All I know about my Dad
is he fell in love with mum and in a clever Collie way managed to sneek out and doggy marry her, we puppies were born.

The humans didn’t want us and sent us to THE VETS, that’s where I met Lesley, her friend Jane, and Bryn.

At first I thought Bryn was
my dad he looked so proud and important in his shiny black Collie coat and gorgeous white ruff. (I wished he was) He said a polite hello. I said a quiet one.

A human’s strong hand held-fast my sister Tutsie and I. Lesley
said to this human “What lovely puppies, are they being vaccinated?”
“Oh No” the human said sadly “Nobody wants mongrel bitches they are here to be put down..

Lesley and Jane just took us saying “We will find them homes” and they did.

Tutsie stayed with Jane all her life and I stayed with Lesley .......... and the impressive Bryn

The next customer said ...
."your dog is in my car"....
"no she's not" I replied ... .. confident ..... "she's upstaires".

"she's in my car ..... she fell out of your window ..... she got in my car"

..... Jude .....

had been perusing the Conway goings on, and desperate to properly see a particularly interesting event
had leant dangerously out of an upstairs window, this caused her to
plummeted clumsily to the street below which was busy with holiday makers.

............. He, ............

had fecklessly opened his car door,
… She ...totally disoriented had lept
through said door ... for succour.

She had had a fright.

I was behind the counter in my café "Snacktari" aptly named after the TV program "Daktari" (don't suppose anyone remembers that program now) anyway the walls boasted exotic animals (I painted those) and we served "Snacks" so you get it (oh never mind) we did steaks too, those to be
eaten with the devilishly clever, sharp as a razor
..."plastic?"... steak knives ..yes.. plastic
(that’s another story)

I've got off the point, don't worry Jude was fine
if a little wiser

THEN THERE WAS
THE MILK DEPOT
( this is all true)

I was a milk-person once .. early 70s left my cosy bed some godforsaken hour before the break of dawn, twas the middle of the night, just to ensure folks got their daily pinta
.Jude
undaunted rose with me.

Rats lived in the depot, and they delighted in drinking milk, skillfully
knawing open the bottles they slurped happily to drink.

Jude was on to them, she knew exactly which bottles they had opened... and using her
prehensile tongue made sure she had scooped up all the contaminated bits.

by drinking deep from the opened bottles.

She helped with the round checking all was just right.

Our patch included a new open plan estate, no fences, I could skip from one to the next like a butterfly,
Jude followed checking fastidiously for
- "RAT DAMAGE"-
her prehensile tongue ernestly searched, - was there a reject ?-- was the top intact ? - was it possible for her to have a delicious drink of milk.? she never slacked and diligently followed me, her tongue slurping, lavishing, wetly caressing each and every shiny milk top.

nobody minded.- And ...
every single person on that estate gave her a Christmas Present - not me