Breaking Up Is Hard To Do Especially when you both love your dog

Would their beloved pet’s accident bring reconciliation or recriminations? And how had everything gone so wrong?

Walking, Daisy thought, picking her way through Bluebell Glen, was all that helped… The well-worn path through the woods was hard with frost, with winter still cradling February. Shivering, Daisy tightened the scarf around her neck.

“Here, Griff,” she called to their golden Labrador.

He was miles ahead, running on then stopping to sniff the grass. She watched. Remembering…

“Valentine’s Day in Bluebell Glen with the girl I love,” Sam had smiled last year, pulling her to him. “Romantic, hey?”

Yes, she smiled at the memory, it was. Now this year’s Valentine’s Day was fast approaching, but there’d be no special dog walk through the Glen. No thoughtful present left on her pillow for when she awoke. No card with loving words. She shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the low temperature.

Daisy’s supposed “custody” of Griff was something else to resolve. She sighed. How had it come to this? When they’d married three years ago, she’d never imagined they’d start 2020 by filing for divorce.

She hated the sound of the word. Having separated parents, she’d never wanted to live through another break-up. It was why she’d taken so long to make sure she and Sam were right for each other.

“You and Dad rushed … never found out if you were suited,” she’d tell her mum.

“We’d no choice – you were already on the way,” her mother retorted. “It wasn’t the done thing, back then, not to marry. Certainly not in our little Devonshire village.”

Daisy had felt pleased their own marriage had been well-planned and they’d learned all they could about each other; as if it was insurance. But somehow, even with masses of forethought, they’d still arrived at the same place as her parents. Sam and Daisy were divorcing.

When they’d first married, they’d been so in love, Daisy thought, picking her way through Bluebell Glen. She adored walking here, noting seasonal changes. In spring the bluebells were a purple haze; thick green leaves provided a canopy from summer sun; autumn was a riot of rusty colour and in winter, the stark bareness of the branches, bathed in silvery light, had an ethereal beauty.

“It should be called Magic Glen,” Sam would say.

In those days, Griff led the way as they wandered hand in hand, their steps peppered by kisses. When their dog pushed between them, Sam laughed.

“He’s jealous. Who can blame him? I’ve got the best girl in the world.”

That was before they decided to move. “They’re building in Soper’s Field. It’s time we left the cottage. Climbed the property ladder. We’ll need more space if we start a family,” he’d suggested.

“Oh Sam, what a great idea…

Can we afford it?”

“No – but with overtime…”

So Daisy had asked her boss for extra shifts.

“No problem. We’re always shortstaffed. But are you sure? You already work full-time,” Li had said.

“We’re saving up – put as many hours as you like my way.”

Daisy loved her job at Royal Park where she’d started an apprenticeship straight from school, working with different teams. Now she was with Events Management, helping to organise weddings and business meetings. No two days were the same, but the hours were long – and since she’d asked for overtime, she was never home.

Sam had also signed up for extra tasks at FWM, the web designers where he was a back-end developer.

“What’s that?” Daisy had laughed when they’d first met.

FWM had held a conference at Royal Park and she’d been waiting at table. She’d been instantly attracted to him; more so, when she’d discovered how easy he was to talk to.

“I work behind the scenes on websites, setting up the server and ensure the site’s secure. The unsexy bits,” he’d laughed.

Even with masses of FORETHOUGHT they’d ARRIVED at the SAME place

Working hard to move meant they hardly saw each other. As their savings increased, their cuddling time decreased. If Sam was home, he’d work on new websites – like today. When they did talk, they were so tired, they argued. “Griff – here!” Daisy called.

Deep in thought, she’d lost sight of the dog. The afternoon light was fading. Where was he?

“Griff?” she called.

Silence…

There was a pond on the outer reaches of the Glen. He was probably there, happily exploring. She increased her pace – it really was cold. Time to find Griff and head home.

She sighed. Sam would be there. Lately, she avoided him as it was so awkward between them.

Christmas had forced the issue.

Together for the first time in months, they’d rowed incessantly. After a particularly harrowing argument over New Year, they’d agreed they couldn’t continue.

“We must split,” she’d said, half hoping she’d shock Sam into making up.

But instead he’d shocked her by agreeing. “OK… we’ll sell up.”

Mutely, Daisy had nodded. Sam moved into the spare room and from then on, they’d avoided each other.

At least the rows had stopped…

Daisy reached the pond. Although it was more open here, dusk was on its way and she couldn’t see the dog. “Griff!”

She was puzzled. He normally barked when he heard her. Where was he? The pond had frozen and the trees were painted with frost. Everywhere was still.

Suddenly she spotted Griff on the other side of the pond. Once he saw her, his ears pricked. Barking, he bounded onto the pond.

“No, Griff!” she shouted.

How strong was the ice? If he wasn’t careful … Suddenly – crack! The dog yelped as the ice gave way.

Oh no! He was in the freezing water. What could she do? She was a lousy swimmer and there’d been several warnings not to rescue dogs from icy water in case owners got into trouble themselves. Panicking, she wondered how could she reach him?

“Help!” she called.

Normally fellow dog walkers wandered the Glen, but not this afternoon. Had the cold kept them indoors? If only Sam was here…

Griff yelped in distress, trying to clamber onto the ice but it was too slippery. He must be freezing. She’d no option – she’d have to call Sam.

He answered on the second ring. “Yeah?” Ignoring his apathy, she blurted, “It’s Griff – he’s fallen in the pond. Help me.”

Immediately, his tone changed. “Don’t panic, Daisy. Can you reach him?”

“No – the ice didn’t take his weight. It won’t hold mine.”

“Get a branch – something to lay on the ice. Encourage him to use it. I’m coming.”

“Thanks, Sam.” She ended the call and searched for a branch.

Griff was keeping his head above water but looking frightened.

“It’s all right, old boy. Sam’s coming. We’ll get you out.”

She found a branch and laid it on the ice, but it wasn’t long enough. Then she had a brainwave. Her scarf was superlong. Her friend Annie had knitted it for her for Christmas.

“To keep you warm on long walks,” she explained.

“It’s amazing. Who was the first owner – Doctor Who?” She’d laughed.

Now she was thrilled she had it. Standing at the edge of the pond, she threw it on to the ice. The end dangled in the water where Griff floundered.

“Catch, Griff!” she commanded.

Every second counted. The cold was really affecting him now. The Labrador tried to bite onto the scarf, but it slithered away.

“Again, Griff!” she called, heart pounding.

Just then, Sam arrived.

“Daisy?” he called.

“Over here!”

She’d never been so relieved to see him. The moment Griff saw Sam, he became excited and bit onto the scarf again. This time he’d enough material in his mouth so they could pull him out.

“Oh, thank God!” Daisy cried.

Sam had brought an old towel and blanket with him. He quickly dried the shivering dog then wrapped him in the tartan blanket.

“Will he be all right?” she asked. “Hopefully,” Sam said, a serious expression in his brown eyes.

Griff was laid on the side of the bank. He looked exhausted but at least his shivering had subsided. Daisy vigorously rubbed the dog to warm him.

“Thank you for coming, Sam. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

“I had to help Griff… How could you be so stupid?” He glared at her.

Daisy was shocked. “What?”

“Why wasn’t he on a lead around the pond? You know how cold it is.”

She couldn’t believe, that in the height of all this drama, he could be so mean.

“You know Griff always runs ahead. He was down here before I knew it,” she defended herself.

He was right; she hadn’t been concentrating. If only she could tell him she’d been distracted by the pain of their marriage break-up. But Griff wasn’t a puppy. And he had never attempted to run on to the pond before.

“Sam, it wasn’t my fault. You know I love Griff as much as you do. I’d never do anything to harm him.”

He stroked the dog’s head. “Maybe, but I’d have taken better care of him.” Smarting from his cold words, she fell silent. Was that a dig? Would he fight for sole “custody” of their dog? She swallowed. She couldn’t think about that now. Griff was the important one. She didn’t need another row with Sam.

Their dog was looking sleepy. They had to get him home quickly – but there was no way he could walk.

As if reading her mind, Sam said, “Look – I brought the car. We’ll have to carry him to the car park somehow.”

Daisy nodded. “He’s a bit of a lump.” “We’ll manage. Let’s get him home into the warm.”

She watched Sam scoop Griff into his arms. To start with, he carried him easily but as they walked, Sam began to struggle.

“Let me have him.”

“No, he’s too heavy.”

“We could carry him between us?” “I suppose,” he said.

Somehow, they managed to carry the blanket-swathed animal. As they walked, Sam caught Daisy’s eye.

“Sorry, Daze.”

She almost smiled at the sound of his old nickname for her. How long had it been since he’d called her that?

“For what?” she held his gaze. “Snapping at you when I arrived. It was just … I was so worried about Griff.”

“It’s OK. You were right. I should’ve kept him on the lead. But I was busy…” “Busy?” he puffed.

They’d reached the car park. Her arm muscles were screaming from the dog’s weight. She could see their old Fiesta, slewed to a stop, proof of Sam’s anxiety to reach them.

“Yes – thinking.”

He held her gaze before Griff whined. “All right, old boy, we’ll soon get you home.”

Carefully, they placed the Labrador on the back seat. Sam threw his coat over the dog and then drove home as fast as legally possible.

“Should we call the vet?” Daisy asked as they laid the dog on the fireside rug.

“We’ll see how he goes. Let’s give him a drink and, when he warms up, some food. He loves his grub. If he doesn’t eat, we’ll know something’s up.”

Daisy felt sick. What if Griff had

Was that a DIG? Would he FIGHT HER for sole CUSTODY of their dog?

hypothermia? Seeing her concern, Sam laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Daze. I’m sure he’ll be fine. If not, we’ll call Peter Symonds out.”

Peter had been Griff’s vet ever since puppyhood.

It felt good to have Sam’s hand on her shoulder. It was the first time they’d touched since… but then, almost as if he was suddenly aware of his hand, he pulled away.

“I’ll get Griff some water.”

Daisy nodded, stroking their dog. He was still listless but when Sam returned with a bowl of water, he sat up.

“That’s a good sign.” She smiled.

Griff finished drinking, then flopped back in front of the fire. Daisy patted his head. Did he look a little better? “Want a coffee?” Sam asked. “I’d love one. Thanks.” A few minutes later he brought in two mugs and offered Griff one of his favourite dog biscuits.

“This is the real test,” she smiled. At first, Griff only sniffed it but then he took the biscuit, eagerly crunching on it. Sam grinned. “I think he’ll be OK.” Thrilled, she laughed.

“Do you remember when we thought he had parvovirus? He was slumped on the sofa until he heard me open the kitchen cupboard. Then he shot out for some food.”

Sam grinned and nodded. “I can’t remember Griff ever being off his food.” “That famous Labrador appetite.” Sitting by the fire, they chatted about the dog, laughing at the memories. Griff grew brighter as each minute passed. Soon he was sitting up, looking perky.

“This is nice.” Sam held her gaze, sipping his coffee.

She nodded. “I suppose it’s the first chance we’ve had to talk – without one of us running off to work.”

He studied the crackling fire.

“It was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

Daisy felt crestfallen. Did he mean their marriage?

“Well, we’ve had some great years…” He reached for her hand and squeezed it in his.

“Not the marriage. I’d never say that. I mean – it was a mistake to think that we had to move. Before we could afford to.” She nodded fervently.

“That’s when it all went wrong. We both had good intentions but working so much we never saw each other. And whenever we did…”

“We were too tired to be nice.”

It was the first time they’d addressed their problems. Until then all their rows had been over petty issues. Who hadn’t put out the bins? Who hadn’t taken the dog for a walk? Who’d forgotten to buy the shopping?

“And it was all for nothing. We’re not buying a house now.”

“We should’ve realised when we were well off. We’ve always been happy in the cottage.”

Just then Griff stood up, nudging Daisy’s leg. It was his old sign that he wanted his dinner. She threw her arms around his neck and laughed.

“Oh, Griff, I know you’re better now!” Sam stood up to feed the dog. While he was gone, she considered his words. Now the pressure was off, they were getting on again. Could they…?

“Want some dinner?” he asked when he returned. “I put a casserole in the oven earlier.”

“Mmm. I’d love some.”

Later with Griff slumped by the fire, looking as if he’d never had a day’s illness in his life, Sam and Daisy sat on the sofa with a glass of wine.

“You know, we never had a problem until we wanted to move and started working overtime.”

“No,” he agreed, taking her hand in his. “We had something pretty special between us, once.”

“So,” she squeezed his fingers, “if we stopped working overtime, forgot about the move, could we try again?”

“Too late,” he said, taking his hand away from hers. She felt as she’d fallen into that icy pond water!

“Well, in that case…”

Suddenly he laughed, pulling her to him. “I meant – too late, we already are.”

He held her face between his hands, gently kissing her.

“You know, I think it wasn’t just the dog that was rescued this afternoon.”

No, she thought, maybe, just maybe, they’d rescued their marriage, too. Perhaps they’d be celebrating Valentine’s Day, after all.

Griff STOOD UP, nudging her LEG. It was his SIGN he wanted DINNER