Archie, the face of Red Cross’ Rediplan, and our little doggy, is gone. 16 years of wonderful companionship, we were fortunate to experience. I apologise for the self-indulgence of this post. You may turn away now.

In the middle of 2009, the campaign in our house for a dog had been reaching fever pitch. One morning Emily, aged 8, was found at 6.30 am at the breakfast table, having made her own breakfast, and said “Now, of course, if we had a dog, I could now walk it”. Hanna and I were not necessarily opposed to a dog (we already had budgies), but there was a feeling that this was something new and different, and would it curtail things. I remember talking with my colleagues Jacqui and Karina about this, as we were trying to sort out a disaster messaging framework. I said I had no idea how to go about this. They told me how they came by their pets, unilaterally adopting them! The end of this conversation ended with, “The Lost Dogs Home is just down the road, why don’t you go to talk with them” So, at lunch time I rode across and they talked me through it. “Would you like to have a look at the dogs we have?” they asked. Fatal mistake. Here was me thinking I am rational about all this, its fact finding only, I’ll walk away at the end etc. I was still thinking this as we walked along the pens, with all the yapping dogs, and me thinking, I don’t think this is a very good idea. Then in the last pen, with a sign, “terrier cross, 18 months”, was a little golden fluffy dog who was very quiet and he fixed me with the look. I couldn’t look away. “Would you like to take him for a walk” the vet nurse said quietly. And we did. I rang Hanna, demanding that she stop what ever she was doing and come to the shelter. She was on her way from a meeting back to her office and couldn’t come. I was becoming agitated at thinking I was going to lose this little guy. The vet nurse touched my arm and said “you can put him on hold for 24 hours”. So we did. I was hooked. He had melted my heart. On my ride home I thought, “OK, well if nobody else likes him, he can be my dog”. Fortunately next morning we all went to look at him, and he looked back at us, and we all fell in love with who we then called Archie.

His quietness didn’t last long, when we discovered him to be fiercely protective of the house, and a severe distrust of anyone in fluoro neon and work boots. We felt there was some trauma here. We was found wandering on a main rd in the western suburbs. But he was extraordinary with our two young girls, and it felt like they had the little brother they wished for.

During this time, being a few months post Black Saturday, I was becoming more involved in quite complex challenges, and difficult but rewarding work centred around grief and bereavement, which I have written about previously. Not being a great sleeper, I was often awake at night, thinking through problems; how to support someone who’s grief is blocked, how would we represent a total community impact, what is the total theory of everything, why can’t the emergency services get their heads around our preparedness approach. Archie would often appear in these wee small hours and sit with me, so I didn’t have to ponder alone.

He became the poster boy for Rediplan when we were looking for a cover image for the new version of rediplan. With our colleagues at Grosz Co Lab, we were fighting a running battle with the communications team, who wanted the imagery to be dark and destructive to scare people into action. We knew the research, and those we consulted during the review, said that this didn’t work. What was the all encompassing image we needed, that was strengths based and would appeal to a significant number of people (knowing you couldn’t get everyone). I read an article about pet ownership in Australia being one of the highest in the world, and we settled on the image, and Archie (with my daughter Amy), set the tone, beautifully captured by my friend Steve Young. His was the face that would hopefully tap into the emotions of many and prompt action.

He was also an escape artist par excellence. There was often we would get a call, are you missing your dog? And off we would go.  I was on a call with Rob Gordon once, and got the message. Rob proceeded to unpack the psychology of missing animals with me an instructed me on how to go about the search. Another time we had left him with Kate Brady, thinking that she lived in an apartment. None of us thought to check if it was escape proof. It wasn’t. The entire red Cross Emergency Services team began a search for him. There was even an incident management team set up for the search. Eventually days later, he turned up across town. Kate also helped us when we were threatened by flooding, by coming down to pick up Archie and take him to higher ground. His little legs were not well designed for flood waters, and we found that he hated water and swimming.

He often provided a calming presence, whenever there was tension in the house. He diverted people’s attention away from the argument or whatever was causing stress. A pat or scratch under the chin was a great stress buster. We also had a lot of conversations about disaster policies and practices. He always seemed to have the right answer.

His health began to fail 3-4 years ago with his hearing, then his sight, and arthritis, and some mild dementia. This should have spelled the end for him, but our wonderful local vets helped him have a good life in his advancing years. They took away his anxiety for the first time in his life with medication, and he developed a cuddly, trusting streak, which was wonderful for him, and us. His last year has been tricky with being not able to walk too far, or see or hear. He could navigate himself around his realm, though. And he would still shuffle to the door and want a walk. I would take a book with me to catch up on some reading. I also developed a hip complaint from walking too slow!. But it was a wonderful time to slow down, pause and take in the little things, and Archie would read the newspaper as he went along, sniffing away at what was new and what was old. And he made many friends along these journeys

When I started with AIDR, I found that we were working on a Handbook on Managing Animals in Emergencies. The Human-Animal bond significantly influences people’s behaviour, and was important for us recognise in planning for emergencies. The more I saw Archie’s dependence on us, to more I recognised this.

And, then, the last month, with the rest of the family being overseas, his health failed. He had bowel issues, his mobility was shaky. He no longer wanted to walk, he slept a lot. Through all this, he was extremely cuddly, wanting to be very close when being carried, sleeping with me in bed, and just indulging himself in being enveloped by a big hug. We were literally inseparable. My wife Hanna was due back from overseas, but I was not sure if he would make it. But we had a long conversation about it, he and I, and clearly he decided he wanted to hang on. He stopped eating and drinking the night Hanna arrived home. Two nights later, after speaking with his wonderful vet, Deb, we decided that his beautiful life would end, and he would be free from suffering. This is the hardest decision that I have ever had to make (and I have been around death a lot of the years). The finality of the decision, and the control. Of course, the morning after we decide this, he drinks a whole bowl of water, and has some prosciutto and pate for breakfast). Then you start to doubt yourself, will he pull through this. But by the evening, he was not eating or drinking again.

We took him to the local beach, with a bottle of champagne, and wrapped him up while we watched the sun go down on a wonderful life, and told each other, and him stories, listening to The War on Drugs . HE slept with us that night, us holding his little paws, wrapped up in our doona. After his shower that morning, he just wanted to sleep in my arms, and so he did, pushing his head into my chin for his last hour. Then with our darling girls beamed in from overseas, another incredible human being, Amy, the vet,  helped Archie from this physical realm to that of dreams and memories, all peacefully in our arms.

He was such an incredible, outsize presence in our lives; loyal, feisty, caring, funny, smart.

We will miss you so, Archie Richardson.

Walk on, fair hound, walk on