By Susan Chiera

I found him, this chubby black and white bundle of indiscriminate breed, with a piece of string around his neck. Or should I say he found me. He followed me home on his belly.
We spent the next 13 years together, Bandit and me. And all I have are the memories now, but oh, what memories.
He would trot along busily, his tail in the air, and give the occasional bark like a beagle, which he wasn’t. He effortlessly endeared himself to so many people, although biting a few on the way. He had my neighbour trained to feed him each morning by waiting on her doorstep and staring through the glass until she came out with food.
He loved me unconditionally and I loved him. He was king of the street. All the neighbours knew him and would stop for a chat and to scratch him behind the ear. He likes to sit at the hedge on the corner of the lane and watch the goings-on of the world.
We went most places together. Our last trip was to the wine district of Margaret River, where he met his bovine cousins. We spent an hour in the paddock with a herd of Friesian cows, black and white like him, while they inquisitively checked each other out.
He liked to ride in the car, wedged behind the passenger seat on the floor. It took me some time to realise it wasn’t that he didn’t trust my driving but that he got carsick. He loves our early morning walks on the beach, where he would sniff everything and keep guard while I went for a swim. If I was in the water too long he would wander off to find someone to sit with, all the time keeping an eye on me.
He would sit leaning against the wall (I still cant bring myself to wash the grubby mark off in the kitchen), with one ear at a right angle, reminiscent of the flip-out indicators on my grandfather’s 1950’s car.
He was there when I was down, happy to snuggle up to me; he was there when I was up, happy to play whatever game took my fancy.
But now he’s gone and there is an empty space. Alison, his vet, and Laura came to the cottage and I cradled him in my arms while he was freed from the pain of his tumour and quietly left this world to go chase balls and bury bones in heaven.
Well, he hasn’t gone completely yet. His ashes are in a box beside my bed and, one morning soon, just after the sun has come up, I will set him free on the beach we both love(d) and thank him for all the fun we had together.

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