Brindle

Every summer when I was a child our family had a summer holiday, we would pack up the car and drive great distances to visit relatives or explore new parts of the country.

My lasting and fondest memory is the times we spent in the Bay of Plenty area, my mother’s family live in many of the small towns dotted around this wonderful part of New Zealand.

The country side has nothing to do with my liking of this time; it is the dogs that lived there. Most of the homes we visited or stayed at where those of hunters. With hunting comes a collection of dogs.

I would be excited as we neared certain homes and could hardly wait for the greetings and questions to stop. With large extended families it is easy to remain in the back ground as a child and melt away, not long after arrival I would find myself at the kennels patting and playing with a team of pig dogs all vying for my attention. I think this is where my love of brindle coloured dogs comes from; oddly enough I have never owned one of that colour but find myself drawn to them.

Hunting dogs have presence about them other dogs lack; they have a bearing that says I know what my purpose in life is. These dogs where loved and respected, as an integral part of the food gathering system they shared with their owners. Hunting dogs do what dogs are supposed to do; they live fit healthy full lives.