BESS

Where It All Began

There's not much more we can say about Bess, except she was one hell of a bulldog.  She  came from Bulldog Rescue and is the one responsible for our addiction.

We lasted exactly one week after Bess's death without a Bulldog in our house.

Although now in bulldog heaven and buried at the bottom of our garden.  Bess will always be the true boss of this house, she came here in 1989 from the Bulldog Rescue Serviceat approximately 5-6 years of age and died a week before we acquired Amber, she was about 12-13 years old and died of a stroke on May the 17^th 1996. She was our first and for that will always be the most special.

Before Amber, we were owned by a proud bulldog who we acquired from bulldog rescue. Owned by a school teacher, so the story goes, she lived at the school and left in the garden during the day. Constantly poked at and teased by the children, she had understandably become a little wary of children. Her history supposedly included a lorry driver who'd  won her in card game and how she actually ended up in rescue was never really very clear but Mrs. Hunt who runs Bulldog Rescue here in the UK took her in and she ended up with us at the age of approximately five years old.

With crooked teeth and an incredibly undershot jaw, giving her a distinct noble look, we had no idea what she'd been through or what her name actually was - but she seemed to respond to Bessie so that's what we called her.  Queen Bess ruled our household with a rod of iron as you will soon learn. She called the shots on everything, you couldn't leave her, not even for a minute! She knew exactly how to punish you if you left her alone. She'd bark until she could bark no more and if that didn't bring you back - she'd wee, even if you'd made sure she'd been before you left, she'd wee anyway - draining the last drop from her bladder to give her final "serve you right" seal of disapproval. If you still didn't come back she'd itch until she bled, or sit in one spot and spin continuosly around and around and around - our entire lives revolved around this one dog who eventually came everywhere with us!

As soon as the doorbell rang, no matter what she was doing, Bessie would aim herself, full pelt at the front door. When she got there, she either had no plans to stop or just couldn't but to get the best idea of how this looked, put yourself on the outside of the front door. Imagine a door with a small inconspicuous cat flap that would suddenly, without warning, grow a bulldog head that would then proceed to bark and bark. You've got the idea haven't you?

We regularly had courier deliveries, our regular delivery man was scared stiff of Bessie. He soon discovered that once you rang the bell you either took five steps backwards or put your foot on the cat flap, the latter, obviously resulted in Bessie banging her head, the first conjures up the funniest image.

Bessie had no fear! Unless of course you were a wheelbarrow, a shopping trolly or a motorbike - but if you were on the other side of a window she'd go completely mad and if you shut her in a room she'd totally freak, Bess showed very obviously signs that her "past life" hadn't been too special! In her latter days when she'd begun to go deaf and blind and could no longer hear the doorbell someone only had to get up off their seat and Bessie would automatically assume someone was at the door, launching herself in that general direction. This made making a cup of tea incredibly difficult as we'd have to slowly tip-toe out the room before her failing eyesight caught our shadow.

Bessie did everything in her own time, you couldn't rush her! Except the time that someone put a plate that contained a cream cake on the floor, somehow she managed to find the energy to make it to the plate and devour the cake before anyone noticed - the tell tale sign of course being the splodge of cream still on her nose, despite the "it wasn't me" expression on her face.  But for the rest of the time she did everything in her own way, once on a shopping trip, we needed to cross a busy road in the town center controlled by four sets of traffic lights. We had an extending lead and after pressing the button on the pedestrian crossing and getting to the other side, we turned to discover Bessie was the full length of the lead away, still crossing the road on a now green light with four roads of traffic patiently waiting for her to cross. The great thing was that no-one seemed to mind. We gave up trying to take her for walks. If she didn't want to go, she'd dig her heels in and when Bessie decided she wasn't going, there was no changing that stubborn little mind of hers. The final straw really came when she decided she take care of "business" on the grass verge by the side of the main road, she had a habit of kicking it away except on this particular occasion, before we'd had chance to pick it up and dispose of it like a responsible dog owner, Bessie had kicked it away, straight onto the windscreen of a passing car. That was it, we made do with the garden after that.

On May 17th 1996, being approximately 12 years of age, Bessie was peacefully laid to rest at home, a day that none of us will forget, because even though this bulldog was totally senile, deaf, blind and seized at every joint the sound of that doorbell allowed her to forget, for just a second, that she was so old and so poorly - she ran full pelt at the vet who'd come to put her to sleep. Queen Bessie had the last word and now is at rest, pain free at the bottom of our garden, guarded on by the rest of our Bulldog family, who have Bessie to thank for their existance, because without Bessie we would never had found the love of a Bulldog, the unconditional love that makes sure that you never look at another breed of dog again - she's snoozing now in Bulldog heaven, pain free but probably still as grouchy - Bess may you rest in peace forever