Bandit's Run

[Trace]

Zondrae's poem got me thinking...


Bandit's Run
We’d just moved back from the city
For the first time we lived in a house
After five years of living in flats
We thought it would be really grouse

At last we had room to move
Some land we could call our own
And what better way to celebrate
Than to find a dog to share our home

I was working at Uncle Ben’s
For dogs there could be nothing better
They have this thing called Select-A-Pet
Find the breed that fits you to the letter

Well we answered all of the questions
With most of them tried to be true
We pressed the ’go’ button, and lo and behold
A hound would be best for you

And not just a hound, but a Wolfhound
To be sure Irish, through and through
As big as a horse, and hungry to boot
Was this really what we wanted to do?

We didn’t rush out hunting hounds
But barely a week seemed to pass
There’s an ad in the paper, ‘Free to good home’,
‘Be quick cause we don’t think he’ll last’.

So Barb is right onto the number
All the details passed over the phone
He’s not quite a Wolfhound, but real bloody close
He’s a Deerhound, and Scotland’s his home

No problem’s says Barb, he’ll do us
(So easy It’s surely a lurk?)
Trace will come and collect him tonight
He’ll drive out there right after work.

That was the night I met Bandit
I didn’t know he’d be so big
When I asked what you do with a dog of that size
They said “Mate, he hunts roos and pigs”

“But his coat, it’s no good for hunting
The second coats too much like fur
If you spend a day hunting, when you get home
Takes a week to get rid of the burr”

“So he sits in his pen looking lonely
When he should be out running the flat
We thought that we’d just have to shoot him
But he’s too good a dog to do that.”

“By the way did I say he’s got papers
For hunting we don't really care
Yep he’s true to his breed, a full pedigree
And his kennel name’s Atlas Alistair”

“But to us he’s always been Bandit
You’ll see why when you look at his face
The black round his eyes look just like a mask
In a line-up he’d be right in his place”

I’ll take him I said, without thinking
His eyes were what swung me around
Though slightly cowed I could see inner strength
I could sense the loyal friend that I’d found

So out to car with the Bandit
What a great sight was to see
In the 120Y there was no room to move
Just this bloody big dog and me

Now what would Barb say when I got home?
She’ll be apples, she’ll come around
So I took him inside and what did he do?
Proceeded to mark his new ground

And so began life with the Bandit
Many things he’d learn how to do
To walk on a lead; not to pee on the fridge
Even a show ribbon or two

At our farm you would see the real Bandit
I truly believe having fun
Whether out on a hunt or chasing a hare
See the big dog move at a full run

When our children were born he’d watch o’er them
Like new pups now part of his pack
I never got over how gentle he was
With kids crawling all over his back

Our dog, our friend , our protector
These roles he served one and all
For such a big dog he fitted so well
And each day was truly a ball

Big dogs they don’t live forever
Time finally proved too much a test
We carried old Bandit out to our farm
On a high hill we laid him to rest

Now we don’t own the farm any longer
We’ve moved on, and new folk have come
I have no idea what they call the farm, but
For me it’ll always be Bandit’s Run


Run free old fella

[Maureen K Clifford]

He sounds like a gentle giant and I know how much you all miss him. Fear not...he waits. Some dogs are always just that little above ordinary Lovely tribute Trace to a special mate who is always in your heart

Cheers

Maureen

[Trace]

Maureen, he was gentle by nature, and not backward when he needed to be.

When I picked Bandit up that night, the people who had him told me they'd given him a bath, cause he was a bit dirty. For a Deerhound he had a 'fluffy' coat....his undercoat was very thick, and it was matted with dirt and weeds. I think they'd just sprayed the hose over him to clean him up!

At the time Barb (my good lady) had a badly broken leg, and was on crutches. Barb spent a couple of weeks combing him right out, and he and she developed a real strong bond. Barb would hobble around on her crutches and take Bandit to a local park for a run, often off the leash. On one occasion this crazy German Shepherd from across the street rushed at Barb down at the park. She reckoned that Bandit came from about 30 metres behind her and hit the shepherd at full tilt. (thats 50kg of upset dog travelling at pace...I think I saw where you had Wolhounds/Staghounds, so you can imagine it). The shepherd never bothered Barb again..and always gave Bandit a wide berth.

Bandit spent a lot of tie inside with the family, and having a 50kg lap dog had its own challenges. It was always a bit of a battle between he and I over who owned the couch!

Good memories....