Jop was walking with us one day, down to the dam beside the bee hives. We had visitors and we were showing them around. Joppie rushed down in front of us with a visiting dog. They disappeared into the bushes.
On our way back, Joppie was very slow, but as she was thirteen, we weren't particularly concerned.
However, when we returned to the house, Jop went to the shed and started screaming, then collapsed.
We rushed her to the vet, where she was given antivenene for snake bite, as this was the most likely cause of her symptoms. She died soon after. My heart was broken and the boys dug a large hole in the rock-hard clay to bury her. There was practically no garden then. My sister planted a small garden around her, an extension of a tiny patch that had been planted by the previous owner.
A tatty old wallflower resided in this garden and over the months it grew into a wonderful thriving bush. My daughter Leah, who has a delicious black sense of humour, commented "Mum! You've got to plant more dogs!"
Well, sadly, now we have.
Joplin's wallflower - thriving above a planted dog.
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