On one of their walks this week Tina captured this shot of Bevan looking to the heavens. I like it very much and it is now my desktop wallpaper.
Monthly Archive for July, 2011
When at the end of June Tina started a job at a boarding facility for animals I didn’t realise that as well as paying customers she’d be looking after dogs in the care of the RSPCA. It was probably inevitable then that she would eventually fall for a rescue dog. We had discussed getting a dog in the past and arrived at the conclusion that with cats and both of us potentially working, it would be unfair to introduce a dog into our family.
However a 7 months old male Whippet-Cross, named Thorn by the RSPCA, captured Tina’s heart. This was a special dog she claimed, a gentle soul perfect for our family. He’d even been taken past cats to gauge his reaction, and passed the test. He was not interested, and a hiss from one angry feline saw him cower behind his handler’s legs. She begged me to let us adopt him.
I was still unconvinced. Tina’s job allows staff to take their animals to work with them for free day care which solved one of the problems, but I was worried about Hadley’s and Molly’s reaction to sharing their house with a dog. However seeing how much it meant to Tina I agree to meet Thorn one evening when I collected her from work. I was smitten. He put on a good show, if anything more pleased to see me than Tina. Clearly affectionate, he did have a calmness about him that I didn’t expect. I agreed to return the following day for an official viewing appointment. We went on a walk together, and as a novice I was petrified, and horrified when given a bag to collect any potential poop. Thankfully it was not needed, and Thorn behaved very well, showing no signs of the issues that sadly often beset a rescue dog.
By this stage my stance was faltering. I was falling for this dog too. I agreed to a 24 hour trial, taking a day off to bring Thorn home to see how he would settle. He did well, and a week ago today we signed his adoption papers and Bevan (as he is now known) became a part of the family. It may have been Tina who wanted this dog, but he seems to prefer me. He follows me around and misses me when I leave the room. Already there is trust and unconditional love. I have enjoyed the time we spend together, walks are not a chore as I feared, but relaxing and pleasurable. I am no longer in fear of the poop scooping bag but proficient in its use! Everywhere Bevan goes he received compliments from dog walkers and passers-by alike. I think we do have a special dog, and in honour of his first week with us here are some photos.
Stephen Foster aka Winger (left) discusses tactics with former Stoke City Manager Johan Boskamp, Denderleeuw, April 2008
On the 30th June I was working late, waiting to go to a Green Party meeting in Leeds city centre so I thought I’d pop on the Stoke City Fanzine Oatcake Message Board to pass a few minutes before I headed off. I expected wild transfer rumours, amusing tales, and the usual banter. What I did not expect to find was a thread about the death of Stoke author Stephen Foster. Having been reported missing, his body was found near his home in Norwich on 23rd June. The cause is believed to be drowning. At the time I found it hard to put into words what a shock this was and how incredibly sad this news is. I felt empty. My thoughts and condolences go out to all of Stephen’s family and friends as their pain will be far greater than mine. I did manage a few lines on the message board, but they were not sufficient.
So I’ve been wanting to produce a more worthy tribute to Stephen ever since learning of Stephen’s passing, but have struggled to get past a terrible sense of sadness, a feeling can’t really put words to, but just left me incapable of getting very far without giving up. But following the memorial service on Saturday 16th July at Mow Cop which Stephen would have undoubtedly called “sensational”, and was an uplifting, moving, and humorous celebration of his life, I felt it was time now to record my thoughts.
My first encounter with Stephen was not in person, but his book “She Stood There Laughing”. Reading it I felt several emotions. First off he spoke for me almost perfectly, describing that season in a way that I’d agree with 99% of his views. Secondly he repeatedly made me laugh out loud, startling fellow bus passengers in the process. Thirdly he made me envious. I harboured a dream of becoming a writer myself, and working on the old adage of “write about what you know” I’d considered doing something about my home town or Stoke City. However here was an author who had produced the sentiment of what I’d wanted to say, but had written it in such an eloquent and witty style that I could never have managed. The talented swine! I realised I’d best stick to the day job!
Having read the book and learnt that “Winger” on the Oatcake Message Board and Stephen were one of the same, I enjoyed following and contributing to threads that Winger and fellow “Pulis Hating Wankstains” (the name given to fans who dare criticise the manager Tony Pulis) frequented. Like his book his posts were articulate, sharp, reasoned, well observed, and very funny. I could usually rely him to back me up when I expressed a non-conformist opinion.
Somehow, and the exact details elude me for once, I got roped in to a weekend away in Brussels, and a trip to watch Johan Boskamp’s FCV Dender. I probably invited myself along more than likely. This was the first time I was to meet Stephen in person. By this point I’d read more of his works, including the awesome “It cracks like breaking skin”, and I half worried that he might demonstrate the sort of self-importance bordering on arrogance, a trait one often finds with people that have obtained some fame or notoriety. I feared sharp put downs or sarcasm which also often go with the territory of the artiste. Yet I should not have worried, because Stephen is from Stoke, and so possessed that down to earth nature forged with self-deprecating humour that so many people of the Potteries exude. Yes there was banter. Yes my lengthy detailed instructions on how to navigate the Brussels Metro system and find the hotel were read out loud for the group’s amusement, along with my propensity to use lots of exclamation marks, but there was no malice in this performance. Just good hearty ribbing, the sort mates give out all the time, the sort that indicates genuine affection. I will treasure the memories of that weekend forever, there were more laughs than I can possibly recall.
That weekend led to greater contact: meetings at games, emails, text messages, blog post replies, all containing the trademark eloquence and wit. When I spent 6 months in 2009 living in the USA with my American girlfriend to “see how things go”, I wasn’t allowed to work as a visitor in the USA so had plenty of time on my hands. This led to the honour of proof reading his book “And She Laughed No more”. Stephen was also kind enough to give his frank, detailed and valuable constructive criticism of two short stories of my own that I sent him. The first needed much improvement, but the second was much better, enthusiastically received and to get that sort of praise from a writer I respected meant a great deal to me. In the email exchange about the stories he asked who my literary heroes were. I couldn’t tell him at the time that he was one of them, but I can at least tell you all now.
In “And She Laughed No More” Stephen very kindly included a comment of mine, one of my replies to his blog. He also kindly wrote alongside it that I was a person who lived his life to a code, to a set of principles, something that impressed him and he admired. Well the feeling is mutual. Stephen was someone I admired a huge amount, was a hero, and an inspiration to me. Maybe because he was someone I could relate to - fellow Stoke exile, working class background turned “middle class gayer” who appreciated the arts, the beauty of the English language, and a decent bottle of wine as much as a trip to the Britannia Stadium and a cheese oatcake, and someone who confessed that writing didn’t come easy for him, constant rewrites and much turmoil before something approaching satisfaction with the result is achieved. I felt an affinity with Stephen because of all of these things. But more simply than that, because he was a decent, genuine, caring, generous, funny person who would go out of his way to help you. My regret is that I didn’t get to spend more time in person with you Stephen to tell you all of that, and that I won’t be able to share tales of the new addition to our family - a RSPCA rescue whippet-cross that I think you would have certainly approved of and enjoyed meeting.
It’s so sad that you’ve gone Stephen, but there’s so much to celebrate about your life. From Saturday’s service it was obvious that you have touched so many people’s lives in a positive way. You will be greatly missed.
Rest in peace lad.
