by Lou Allin
“I wish my
dog could talk.” If you’re an author, they’d ask for a role in your books. Limpid
brown eyes with questioning brows, a whimper of excitement at keyboard sounds,
a paw on the computer table, and a nose snuffling the bookshelf. They want in.
Freya, a
German shepherd, was eight when she worked her way into my first series. Belle
Palmer was a realtor, living in the Northern Ontario bush in a cedar-sided home
on gigantic lake and owned a snowmobile.
A companion was important, especially for hikes in bear territory.
So fictional
Freya got her favourite chair, kibble and toys, and her idiosyncrasies. The
only problem occurred in the final hundred pages, a page-turning chase, lost in a blizzard or
in the bush, pursued by the villain. It was impractical to have her with Belle
at that point because Freya would have torn a strip from any attacker. So I
added ruses like going to the vet’s overnight for a late afternoon tooth
cleaning or a trip to the neighbour’s. The only time Belle took a dog along was
when she had to babysit a mini-poodle pup called Strudel in Bush Poodles are Murder. Belle and
Strudel toughed it out in a snow cave during a blizzard. Strudel, aka Friday,
is with me today at age thirteen, blind but running the house, whispering in my
ear as I sleep, “Return of the Bush
Poodle. Just do it!”
My next
shepherd emerged in an academic mystery called A Little Learning is a Murderous Thing. I have a chronicle of Nikon
bumping down stairs on his rump like a frog and running off chasing birds. They
grow up so fast.
Then I
moved to Vancouver Island, Canada’s Caribbean, where Nikon saw his women safely
to the island and joined Freya at the Bridge.
Enter a
rescue border collie named Shogun. They
are not soul mates like German Shepherd Dogs, living for the master’s pleasure and serving
without questions. They prefer to be worked or entertained. And often they
believe that they know best.
Shogun’s
name had been Hogan, then Logan, so Shogun seemed a small stretch and the name
matched his mighty bark. Shogun was also
a chowhound.
He
accepted his agility training, but only for the kibble. He stopped in the
middle of the competition ring, demanding the next directive. This tunnel? That
jump? The dog walk? Make up your mind! Shogun used that expressive plumed tail like
a vampire’s cape, sweeping it over other dogs as if to say, “I never
drink...wine.”
He got his
own role in my new series with RCMP Corporal Holly Martin in a small detachment
west of Victoria. Not long after we got another border collie, Zia, Shogun
joined the shepherds at Rainbow Bridge, but in “his” books, he’s still warming
up. His fictional character was rescued by Holly’s professor father, and he’s
also in agility. In the upcoming fifth book, Shogun will make a key appearance solving
the crime overshadowing the series: the disappearance up north over ten years
ago of Holly’s mother, a Coastal Salish lawyer dedicated to helping abused women
on the island.
As for my
other books, Man Corn Murders, a
standalone set in Utah, had a Nova Scotia duck toller called Tut. My two Rapid Reads for Orca Books had an old golden
retriever, Bucky and a border-collie rescue called Scout. The latest includes a
Malinois, who serves as protector for a woman with a suspiciously hostile
neighbour.
Pets are
not accessories, nor part of the furniture. It’s true that my mini-poodle had
her own fleece parka with her initial on pockets for hand warmers over her back,
but at -25C? Pets are an integral part of our lives and often reflect who we
are, whether the animal is a dog, cat, bird, ferret, rat, or garter snake. Like
Janet Evanovich’s hamster Rex in the soup-can house, animals comfort us as
companions, help us think things through, and get us out of the house even in
snow and rain. But they do not speak English.
There is a
time-delay. In traditional publishing, the book may not appear until two years
after it’s written. The ghosts of animals past haunt the pages, but what better
memorial? Just like the settings of my books are love affairs with a place, giving
my pets their own roles is a way of paying tribute to woman’s best friend.
Lou
Allin is the author of the Belle Palmer mysteries set in Northern Ontario, and
the RCMP Corporal Holly Martin RCMP series on Vancouver Island. Lou also has
written That Dog Won’t Hunt in Orca’s Raven Reads editions for adults
with literacy issues and in 2013 won Canada’s Arthur Ellis Best Novella Award
for Contingency Plan. She lives
across from Washington State on the Juan de Fuca Strait with her border collies
and mini-poodle. Her website is www.louallin.com
and she may be reached at louallin@shaw.ca.