Mya

Yesterday we had to say goodbye to Mya after what seems to be way too short of a time together. 

Mya when she first came to live with us. How happy is she?

Mya was a rescue dog who seemed destined to end up with us after being in the shelter twice. But at 6 years old, she found her perfect forever home and we strived to make it the happiest for her. 

The story of how she chose us is fun. After visiting the Long Benton kennels (a wonderful rescue centre that do amazing work) we thought we'd seen all the dogs, all of them beautiful but none of them picked us. You know how a dog will choose you, not the other way around? I respect that unwritten rule and Mya's story is good reason why.

I hadn't noticed at first but there was another building around the corner from the main offices and we went in. In the first enclosure there was a sad looking Staffy. Her shoulders were slouched and her back was to us. I went up to say hello and when she turned around, to look at us, she got up, picked up a chew and trotted down and dropped it in front of me. Now there is a version of the story that Danni tells that includes me bursting into tears at this point which I have always refuted. Today, I can tell you the truth and, yes, this big tough Geordie cried. We took her home that day and thus started a wonderful 8 years of love and adventures. 

Mya relaxing in her study. Not pictured; a snifter of port and a smoking jacket.

Mya was a well-loved dog who enjoyed nothing better than going on her favourite pub crawl. We always knew that if she ever got out then we'd get a call from one of several bars telling us "she's here, had treats, hasn't bought a round in yet". She had a load of friends in those bars and she'd get recognised before either Danni or I was. In fact, on my website for work she has a page dedicated to her and her friends and that gets more hits than any of my stuff, and rightly so.

She had doggie friends too though. Many dogs came to stay with us over the years as their humans went away on holidays, and Mya welcomed them all. She was never possessive of toys, food or space and she always had a knack for knowing if a dog wanted comfort or to be left alone at a particular time. She'd always check in on them though, just to make sure they were ok. Dogs felt confident in her presence and adapted to their new temporary surroundings easily because of that. We even took a trip to Stratford upon Avon with a tiny Chiwawa named Tiber, and although he was kind of nervous at first, he would then suddenly grow some balls and bark at big dogs to which Mya would sigh and come over to smooth things over. Those two reminded me of The Simpsons episode where Nelson Muntz is bodyguarding a skipping and suddenly fearless Martin Prince. 

Mya and Tiber in Stratford. Obviously knackered after all that Shakespeare and culture and stuff.

She was a hell of a footballer in her youth and if you gave her a football she'd show you the combined skills of prime Gascoigne, Beardsley and Pele. In fact she'd make those players look like Sunday league under 4's, she was that good. She wasn't great at all sports but she was clever. Danni didn't believe me until she'd seen it but roughly what happened was this; on the field I'd throw a frisbee ring and Mya would leap gracefully into the air and catch it, very much like she'd seen the agile collies do earlier. Except she didn't. She'd run after it, overshoot it, slam on the brakes, pick it up in her mouth and THEN jump into the air as if she'd just caught it like some sort of gravity defying acrobat to catch it. Every time. She knew it was funny and so she kept it up. 

She went through a LOT of frisbees

And Mya had the best comic timing. A lot of dogs do the thing where they walk around the lamppost with their lead so it gets tangled. Mya was next level. She would wander around pillars and go back on herself so Danni would end up with the lead so tangled it would look like an old cassette tape that had been unwound and left in  a mess. When Danni would get up to go to the kitchen or the loo, Mya would look up, sense where she was and then silently get up and plonk herself down in her mammy's spot. She would always make me laugh, especially as Mya would always give me a conspiratorial look and give Danni a "what? I'm a dog. I don't know" look. She always made me laugh. 

The con artist was great at getting her own way in bars too. You know those lasses (and maybe lads too) who never spend a penny and get all their drinks bought? Yeah, Mya was like that but with crisps. And people would totally fall for it. She was very persuasive. It got to the point that the regulars who would spoil her would end up with a pint or several in the pump for spoiling her and being so nice.

In the pub, her happy place

She never saw me get to Hollywood, but she did star in a couple of self tapes with me. If only I'd have landed the gigs it would have made a better story. I reckon the casting directors saw them and thought "she's great but how do we tell the human we don't need him?".

She and I had a bond of trust and love. We trusted each other, I loved her, and she loved sharing absolutely anything that I was eating. She always knew that if I was eating something she couldn't have and I told her that that I was telling her the truth and she stopped asking. She'd always share my steak and chips though, just not the onions.

Thing is, I could tell so many stories about her and I will always continue to do so. She was the wonderful light in our lives and we will miss her every single day. She helped to inspire us and showed us unconditional love. I like to think in return we gave her the best life.

Many of her friends, both doggie and human, are still here but there are some familiar faces that she'll meet when she gets to the other side and I reckon she'll take all of them for the bestest Mya pub crawl ever over that Rainbow Bridge. Thank you for a wonderful 8 years. We love you Mya.

Mya, Danni, Matt