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The
magazine is produced twice yearly and cost just £6.00. It is packed full of
stories, Bichon related articles, jokes and a competition. The content is
provided by volunteers and members alike. Below
are a couple of samples of the types of items contained in our previous
magazines.
- MY STORY -
by Naomi Taylor
I am a new
member of Friends of Bichon Frisé Rescue and found out about your wonderful
magazine through recently adopting Buster from Bichon Frisé Rescue in May of
this year. So I thought I’d write to you and tell you of my Bichon story so
far.
For some
unbeknown reason, whether it be at the groomers, vets, park or on a walk, I
regularly get the comment of “You are rather young to own a Bichon”. To
this day I have never really understood this comment. I may only be a mere
twenty nine years of age but I owned three Bichons in my time so far and
although the end is absolutely devastating, I wouldn’t change my life with
them for the world.
My Bichon
story all began in the summer of 1994. I had just finished my final year at
school and was looking forward to the summer holidays - going out with my
friends and generally being a teenager until my college course began in the
September. However, then I heard through a friend of mine that they knew of
a little white fluffy dog in desperate need of a home. This was due to
marital break up. Apparently the wife had moved to a caravan park that did
not allow pets and the nasty, despicable husband wanted rid and was
threatening euthanasia.
Although I
had been brought up with Alsatians and German Shepherds and thought I
preferred the larger breeds, this poor little dog kept playing on my mind.
Eventually I could take the guilt no more so I arranged for a friend to
drive me the 100 miles to pick up the dog with the intention that I would
find a loving and suitable home for him.
However,
upon arriving at the caravan park (where the lady was having him visit to
say her goodbyes) my out look on little dogs completely changed. As soon as
I saw this adorable, smiling, bright eyed face named Floyd poke his head
around the caravan door, my heart instantly melted. I fell completely in
love and was under the Bichon/Floydie spell - hook, line and sinker.
There was
one big snag though. I was living at home with my Mum at the time and she
was on holiday in America so I was unable to ask her permission. On the day
of her return I was absolutely beside myself that she would not let me keep
him so I, rather stupidly, decided to hide Floyd in my bedroom. However,
due to me going up, down, up, down the stairs and repeatedly in and out of
my bedroom, my Mum soon got wind that something was going on. She stormed
in to find Floyd lying upon my bed like butter wouldn’t melt, having just
wrecked my room and me standing in total disbelief.
Although she
was pretty angry with me (to put it lightly) Floydie worked his charm and I
was allowed to keep him. There are so many stories and antics to tell as
far as Floydie is concerned but I’ll leave that for another time.
When I moved
away from home in to my first house with my partner, it goes without saying
that Floydie came too…..and so did our new recruit from rescue called
Foster. Foster was a Bedlington cross. He was malnourished, deaf and sight
impaired (to name but a few ailments). Yet he and Floydie got on famously.
Floyd was Fosters eyes and ears and although half his size, was very
protective of Foster. They had three fabulous years together but sadly
Floydie became ill and passed away on 25th June 2005 at the age of 14.
Due to
Floyds passing and mine and Foster’s need for something, or someone, to keep
us busy, we decided to visit Dogs Trust. There we met a Doberman cross
named Evie. Evie and Foster seemed to get on well so we adopted her in
August 2005. However, no offence meant to Evie, but once home Foster
decided he wasn’t extremely fussed by her presence. Although sharing the
same home they became oblivious to one and other with the pretence that they
did not exist in each others world.
At the time
of Floyds passing, my partner was very cut up and adamant that getting
another Bichon would be too soon for him, hence Evie. However in October
2005 I finally managed to talk him into having another Bichon.
So, in
November 2005 we picked up our first Bichon Frisé puppy, rather aptly named
Ozzy. Ozzy was marvellous with both Foster and Evie. Evie showed her
maternal instincts towards him and putting him in his place and Foster
enjoyed his cuddles and quiet time with Oz.


Sadly though
on 27th December 2006 we took Foster to the vets as he seemed to have a
slight limp. Yet it was something more serious, it was the unmentionable C
word and worst still there was nothing that could be done other than pain
relief and regular checks with the vet. My strong little man soldiered on
until 9th April 2007 but his kidneys began failing and we had to make the
most difficult decision of our life. Although it was so very difficult, I
could not stand to see Foster in such pain knowing that nothing could be
done to ease his suffering so the decision was made. I was with him through
it all and my beautiful, gentle boy fell asleep in my arms aged 11 years
old.
The last
part to my story so far is that in May 2007 I was looking at the Bichon Frisé
Rescue site on the internet and came across “Homes Needed”. I promptly
contacted for more details and with the help, and devotion, of both Mr
Briggs and Mrs Bramidge on
the 8th May
2007 I went to collect my newest recruit, Buster.
Ozzy (aged
19 months) and Buster (aged 28 months) get on marvellously. They eat,
sleep, wrestle and play together like they’ve never known different and at
bedtime now I have Ozzy in the crook of one arm and Buster in the other.
Although my partner gets only a slither of our bed nowadays, and complaints
constantly of a bad back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Many thanks
for taking the time to read my story so far. Apologies if I have been a
Bichon bore or a doggie drag!
Naomi Taylor



- BERTIE’S POEM -
Things You Are To Me
by
Debbie Butler (his Mum!)
You’re an
open fire that warms my toes
on frosty
winter nights.
You’re my
Christmas trees and silver bells
and
sparkling fairy lights.
You’re my
summer time in winter,
a star that
lights my way,
You’re the
ripple in the water
on a
moonlight silver bay.
You’re a
single flower that blossoms
amongst the
autumn leaves.
You’re the
heady scent of spring time
that floats
in on the breeze.
You’re a
brilliant book I can’t put down
how ever
hard I try.
You’re a
romantic film I love to watch
even though
it makes me cry.
All these things you are to me
that words
could never say
How much I
love my Bichon Boy
and will
treasure every day.

A family
bought a Bichon Frisé puppy from another family whose bitch had produced the
litter.
A day or two
later they went back to see the original family to complain.

“I
thought you said he was house trained?”, said the new owner.
“Yes he
is”, came the reply, “In fact he simply refuses to go anywhere else”
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