Then there was Soames

Day by day George is getting a little braver when we're out. He is happiest on familiar territory or when we're on the way back home. Do dogs leave a scent? Or just recognise ones they've recently sniffed?

When I was mid-teens I had a dog called Soames. He was an alsatian cross. Probably with a wolf as he had that colour and look about him. When we were out people who didn't know him gave him a wide berth. He was a big dog and I was too weak both mentally and physically to control him. He wasn't the best choice dog for a young girl but he was just a fluffy puppy when we got him from the dogs's home. And I loved him.

One time I was lying on the sofa watching the television and my grandfather pretended to be hitting me. Soames wanted to protect me but obviously didn't want to hurt my grandfather. He came up with what was to him an ideal solution. He lay on top of me, completely covering me. I couldn't breathe but I was safe!

At the time I lived with my mother, grandfather and grandmother. When it became obvious that Soames was unmanageable, my mother took him back to the dogs's home and asked for him to be rehoused.

A couple of days later we heard that he had gone to live with a family in Morriston, on the other side of Swansea, up the valley, about 12 miles from Mumbles where we lived.

Two days after that I was in the house when I saw a familiar face at the gate: Soames was waiting to be let in.

He'd escaped from his new owners's home and had found his way back to us.

Not as impressive as the cat who found its way from Aberdeen to Exeter or something like that, but we were impressed. Impressed enough for my mum to let him come back to live with us.

We have no idea how he did it. We can only assume he followed the scent of the sea and some other built-in instinct.

I'd like to say the story has a happy ending but one day, about six years later, while I was in work, he turned on my grandmother. He didn't bite her but jumped up aggressively at her and was so heavy that he knocked her over. My mother was dead by then and my gran insisted that he had to go. This time when I took Soames to the dogs's home, the warden said he would have to be put down because of the reason we were getting rid of him. I cuddled my lovely dog as the warden injected him.

xx