Barney was one of a litter of Basset pups born during the Falklands War.

The man who owned the litter’s mother worked for a firm who made specialist parts for military equipment and pitot tubes* for aircraft and so named all the dogs after military items used in the war. Barney’s kennel name was Sea Harrier, and the others were Sea King, Sea Dart, Sea Wolf, etc.

We bought him as a companion for our elderly Basset, Liz, who had been given only months to live, but he gave her a new lease of life and she survived a couple more years. From the beginning, he was a real character. He would sit upright on a dining chair by the window and watch the world go by. Liz would sit underneath and bark (he never barked) and so he became known as the ventriloquist dog!

On the day we moved house, we took our children to their schools and started packing. Unfortunately, the removal man left the door open and he disappeared. He was missing all day and despite driving round the neighbourhood we didn’t find him.

We had phone calls from friends to say he had been outside both the schools where our children went and also outside the house of one daughter’s friend, all some distance from our house. The strange thing was, he had never been at any of the places, either walking or in the car!

At 5pm, with everything packed we phoned the police again and left our contact number but just as we were about to leave, Barney turned up, just in time for dinner and to drive away! And, as a footnote - it was that night the hurricane struck, and we would certainly have been affected if we hadn’t left when we did.

Some years later, we moved to a tiny village in Luxembourg, where we lived in a farmhouse with open fields all around. Opposite, across the fields, was the Blind Home and Barney was often to be found there. We always said it was because no-one could see him, but really it was because the cook fed him.

He frequently went wandering (no fences!) and was often found several villages (and kilometres) away. He soon became very well known. We would get the familiar phone call, “Ist deiner Dackel wieder weg gelaufen?” (Has your dachshund run away again?)

And yes, we knew he wasn’t a dachshund, but bassets weren’t well known there. He would then get a lift home in someone’s car!

A particular favourite journey was to the next village, where the school teacher lived. He would have lunch with her and then hop in her car to come back in the afternoon!

He later survived eating rat poison left out in a neighbour’s derelict house, but was never really the same. Sadly, he was too unwell to return to the UK with us and spend six months in quarantine, so he was left with friends who had an enclosed orchard, where he spent the final months of life very happily.

* (Ed. A Pitot tube is an instrument used to measure the airspeed of an aircraft.)