Family Fortunes: One dog, one vote

Growing up in Dublin, there were eight of us in our house: five children, Mum , Dad and Rex the dog.

Rex was our constant companion. He was similar to Dennis the Menace’s Gnasher but with upshot teeth. He wandered in as a stray puppy and stayed. He walked sideways, crab-like. Dad reckoned he got a bang off a car.

In summer we would jump over the garden wall to play rounders in the school field, watching out for the school caretaker who would roar at us. We would charge home, hearts thumping, Rex barking back at him – once he was safely back in his own garden.

Dad grew vegetables, and my three friends and I would pull lettuce from his garden, slap it between sneaked- out slices of bread from the kitchen and “have a picnic”, sharing bites with Rex, who spat out the lettuce.

The four of us played as the Famous Five, although Rex, the fifth member, refused to answer to “Timmy”. We looked for mysteries to solve involving scarred smugglers and hidden treasures but never found any in the back garden in Glasnevin.

Rex hated ambulances and howled at them. I think the sirens probably hurt his ears.

He used to follow us to Mass on Sundays. We would sneak in without him but he would get in and find us. Church doors were very busy then, and ambulances passed regularly. Mortified at his howling, we would say, “He feels sorry for sick people”.

My sister and I put Rex on the register of electors as a joke, calculating dog years to human years for his age. Weeks later, we roared laughing when a voting card came in the door for him.

Years passed. Our heartbroken mum rang us in Australia and said, “Rex drank some of his favourite sugary tea then fell asleep”. Mum thought there was something wrong when an ambulance went by and he stayed sleeping, and she was right.

Our much-loved family dog with a vote was buried in the garden, and we planted a rose bush on his grave. We want your family memories, anecdotes, traditions, mishaps and triumphs.

We’ll pay €50 for each one published. Email 350 words to familyfortunes@irishtimes.com with your nostalgia, family traditions, recipes or photos.