June 6th, 2011 – June 4th, 2025
Photograph credit Vincent Thompson
Remy was a Bouvier de Flandres, descended from the magnificent breed of strong farm dogs first bred by the Cistercian monks of the Ten Duinen Abbey near Bruges in Flanders, in what is now modern-day Belgium.
Remy was a working dog, a security dog. He was not remotely threatening or aggressive, as security dogs are sometimes portrayed; he was perfectly trained and a perfect gentleman. He didn’t have to do anything: he just stood there, very quietly, and you knew.
He was loyal, brave, and patient. He knew adversity and met it with fortitude.
He had a commanding presence. He was a big dog and he had the trick of seeming bigger than he was. He had a big pink tongue and a big black nose, but I’ve always maintained my ears are even bigger than his.
When he was off duty Remy could relax and reveal his inner goofball. He had long legs and loped across the lawn. He liked eating athanasia flowers and lying on wet grass. Over the years he treasured a succession of soft toy animals—Crabby survives. He enjoyed cheese; as a Flemish dog he was naturally partial to Edam and Gouda, but he adored brie above all other fromages.
Remy became a model for the fictional Bouvier ‘Charlie’ I write about in my novels, along with my own Cavalier, Charlie. I dedicated my book Trial and Tribulation to them.
Every dog is special, but once or twice you meet a dog who understands you better than you understand yourself—and still forgives you. When I get to heaven I’ll head over to the brie department—I know I’ll find Rem-Rem waiting there.
