Martyn Arrives

Snow, Sightings & La Trocha

“Mum,” yes, darling. “The snow is so bad here I am worried that Martyn’s flight might be cancelled,” said Kerry. “Let me know, darling, as I am on my way to La Trocha, yes another sighting.” “Will do, mum,” she said.

Yes, yes, yes, at last, I had managed to take photos of the La Trocha dog. The photos were actually in my phone. It may sound trivial; however, at least I could now send them to a person that said that they have seen George and then send the photo and ask the question: “Was this the dog that you saw?”

The Urgency to Catch the Dog

As I got home, Julie messaged: “We must catch the La Trocha dog, not just because everyone has confused the dog to George, but also because what with everyone chasing the poor thing, it will probably get run over.”

This was so difficult for me as I knew that Julie was right in what she was saying, so I agreed I would do and give all the information that I could. Julie had also found a lady that would take the La Trocha dog in if we could catch it.

Waiting for Martyn

I was now sitting at home replying to my messages, and Kerry messaged: “Martyn is on the plane.” I then looked at the state of the house; I then walked outside, gulp. I looked in the fridge, nothing, gulp. Thankfully I had the energy to change the sheets from when Sue had been here, yet I had no energy for anything else.

Calls, Messages & a Growing Mystery

“Gordon, are you there?” I typed. “Yes,” he messaged back. “Can you pick Martyn up from the airport?” I messaged. “Yes, I have no clue what he looks like, though,” messaged Gordon.

I typed in Martyn’s number and said: “I am sure 2 grown men will work it out; see you later x.”

The Call from Julie

I then flopped on the sofa and maybe had a doze, as it wasn’t long before I heard: beep beep. As I hit the gate fob, my phone started ringing, it was me Julie, “Hello,” I said. “Christine, a lady is going to call you in 2 minutes; you must go to where she says right now,” said Julie. “Has she found George’s body?” I asked. “Yes, but she isn’t sure,” said me Julie. “Ok,” I said. I can’t explain as to why I was ok with this; I suppose I was still on robot mode. Nothing was real to me at this moment.

Martyn Arrives

Gates open, and Gordon and Martyn drive in. I will never forget…. my now son in law getting out of the car with his little suitcase wheeling along and the way he said: “oooorrrrr rite?” “Yes, thanks, sorry, I have to leave right now,” I said.

Heading for La Trocha

“Gordon, could you drive me to near La Trocha? The location will be on my phone any second; we have to go and look at a body,” I said.

“Martyn, I am so sorry I have lit the fire make yourself at home and sorry, please look after the dogs,” I said.

The Muddy Field

Then Gordon and I just drove off.

The location came through, and Gordon and I didn’t speak. We got to the location, and we could see a lady in a field, we parked up, and we got out of the car, we sank, yes our feet sank in the mud, now believe it or not yes I was wearing my tired rubber shoes yet with socks, it was so muddy that I was stuck, yes stuck in the mud, Gordon had trainers on, and he pulled me out, I was then walking the field in just my socks.

The Moment of Truth

As we approached the lady and I looked down: “GEORGE, GEORGE, MY GEORGE,” I screamed. I then looked at Gordon; he had tears in his eyes. Then there was silence. “Can black fur turns to brown?” I asked. “No,” said me Julie’s friend. “Gordon, it’s not George, is it?” I said. Gordon then studied this poor little body and agreed 100% it was not George.

Gratitude in Sadness

It was a strange experience to thank this very kind lady, to know that she was now going to deal with this body, to know that that day she had been out searching for my George. It never got any easier the heartfelt feelings for people helping me that I had never met before.

The Long Walk Back

Gordon and I then walked back to his car. I say walked back …………… not exactly walked back as every step we had to pull our foot out of the mud. (Not for one moment did we say, “Why the hell didn’t the lady say to wear wellies?”)

Home with Martyn

When we got back to mine, Martyn opened the gates. Gordon took his shoes off and just threw them in my bin. He had a cup of tea and then drove home wearing no shoes.

“Martyn, I haven’t been shopping; I am so sorry I have done nothing,” I said. “Let’s go shopping now,” said Martyn.

Shopping & Dinner Plans

So off we went. It was kind of odd as Martyn just so loves Spanish food, and it was just so bloody awkward as I could tell that Martyn’s mouth was dribbling as he looked at all the chorizo. In the end, Martyn knew that if he didn’t put anything in the trolley, then we would come home with nothing. Then I remembered my phone call earlier to Kerry: “So what the hell should I cook for Martyn and me for dinner tonight?” I said. “Keep it simple, mum, just sausage egg and chips,” she said.

Sausage, Egg & Chips

So, that is what I did, and oh boy did I; I cooked all 12 sausages and fried up some chips, fried 4 eggs, and we polished off the lot. I then poured Martyn a beer, and we spoke of how I knew I needed him to make George his own Facebook page tomorrow, plus make a massive map so that I could concentrate on certain areas that I hadn’t covered.

Ending the Day

So, our day for tomorrow was all planned and then Martyn suggested that we watch a film. “You choose,” I said. “I have seen this one before, but I know you will love it,” he said. I hadn’t even watched any TV since the moment George was gone, and tonight, the thought of drifting off to a film felt kind of good.

Watching the Film

This was until I started watching it; holy shit, this was worse than a film called trucks that I had watched over 20 years ago, and I remember phoning my brother to tell him to watch it, and I told him how good it was. I then came off the phone, and seriously I couldn’t stop laughing for at least 5 minutes.

I did actually manage to fall asleep during the film, and then Martyn noticed that I woke up, and he asked: “Should we rewind it?” “No, it’s fine. I will watch it all again another day; you are so right, Martyn wow, what a good film,” I said.

Late-Night Goodbye

It was now 2am, and Martyn said, “Sorry Christine, I must go to bed, please will you go upstairs to your bed tonight.” “Yes, of course, I will; I feel better that you are downstairs sleeping, night Martyn,” I said.

Martyn went off to bed in the spare room, and I went upstairs to write another Facebook post:

“Today has been really difficult, looking for my George, battling the rain and the wind. I still managed to staple some laminated posters to trees. I had my phone wrapped in clingfilm as my coat was totally wet through. I don’t think George is local anymore as my other dog Kev has always been able to get me home, even from 4 miles away from my house. Kev even gets me home from different tracks, so he isn’t using his own scent. My total body is breaking thinking that someone has taken him in, not knowing that he needs to be with me, and my other dogs Steve, Kev, Peter and Jeremy.”

Early Morning with Martyn

I then went back downstairs to lay on the sofa. I have no idea how many hours of sleep that I had had, yet I was awake by 6am and remembering that Martyn was here. I decided to make lots of noise so that he would wake up. It worked; he kind of staggered into the kitchen at around 6:30am.

Making a Start on George’s Facebook Page

“Right, so you make a start on George’s Facebook page, and I will make you a coffee,” I said. Martyn then sat at his laptop and went blank, “What are we calling the page? What pictures do you want?” he asked. As I was making the coffee, all I could think in my mind was: for goodness sake, if I have to decide everything, why are you bloody here. I feel bad for admitting that as Martyn had flown all the way here to help, I was feeling irritable, and I was just so exhausted; my house was so dirty, and when Martyn and I went outside with his morning coffee and my cup of tea we sat on the outside sofa. I looked at Martyn, and he looked at me and then I said it “Martyn, my sofa smells of shit.” My clothes were still sitting there on the wooden wagon wheel bench, the pool was now turning green, and the dustbin was overflowing.

“Can you smell shit?” I asked. “Yes, but it’s not that bad,” said Martyn. He then drank his coffee, and I drank my tea in complete silence.

Sharing Passwords

Martyn and I then began to make George’s Facebook page. I then had to give him all my passwords and access to all my private things. Well, when you look at things, I had given Sue my phone while she was here, and I now had to…

Accepting Help

I couldn’t do everything, and if it meant people seeing my private things, then this is how it now had to be. I then decided to ask Kerry if she would take over my messenger page and pretend to be me and just reply to all messages as there were now over 50 coming through every day. Thankfully she agreed, and I explained to her just to reply and pretend that she was me. So, I had to give her my login details to my Facebook account so that she could access my messenger page.

I then told Martyn and said what a relief all this was as now I could ignore all the bleeps.

Kerry’s Honesty

“Shit Martyn, do you think Kerry will read messages that I have sent to people?” I bellowed. “Yes,” he said. It was the speed in how he said yes that baffled me, not a hhhhhmmmm I don’t know or a maybe, just a rapid “Yes”.

It reminded me once of Kerry when she was a little girl, I gave her 1 pound a week pocket money, and she saved and saved to buy Christmas presents for people. She bought everyone a small chocolate bar. Then one evening, as I was tucking her into bed, I said: “You must wrap all your presents tomorrow as it’s very close to Christmas now.”

Then her eyes went all funny, “Where are the chocolate bars, darling?” I asked. Then tears appeared in her eyes, and she opened the top drawer which was next to her bed, and all there was, was empty wrappers. Shocking tee, hee.

Focusing on the Search

I was past caring about anything private, or if anyone saw anything of mine that was private and if it offended them that it was their problem and not mine. I needed to concentrate on what would make my life easier so that I had more time to search. I still had the worry that because George was such a nervous dog that all he would do was hide and only come to me.

Sunday Morning

It was now 9:30am, and Martyn was eating croissants and cold meats and cheese; I actually enjoyed just a plain croissant and what with all the sausages the night before, I was actually feeling rather full. I even noticed a tummy roll appearing rather like the size of an elastic band.

Heading to La Trocha Market

“Are you ready Martyn, come on, we need to get to the Sunday La Trocha Market,” I said. “Ready,” said Martyn. “Right, let’s go. I have 500 leaflets in my rucksack, you give them out, and I will speak to people,” I instructed.

Then off we went.

Martyn’s Courage

Martyn isn’t a shy man; however, I knew for him to be at a Sunday Market handing out leaflets is something that took quite a lot of guts for him to do. I was actually so amazed at how good he was and how kind he was. He was even using the Spanish word: gracias each time a person accepted a leaflet. I felt so grateful for not doing this on my own, plus Claudia had just flown off to Germany for 3 days and what with all the hours Gary, Gordon, and Carol had helped me, there was no way I could ask them and how lucky was I as I didn’t need to as Martyn was here. It wasn’t long before the first person asked…

Struggling at the Market

Me, “How did he go missing” all I did was cry, and as much as I knew I needed to pull myself together at that actual moment, I couldn’t. Poor Martyn, as he just isn’t very good in this kind of situation, saying what that man is?

I then became stronger as more and more people were asking me questions. I say stronger what I mean is I pulled off an art of speaking with only tears rolling down my face and absolutely no snot or no blubbing and strange breathing noises. As we walked past the one-stop shop in La Trocha, I noticed that they had even put a poster up without me even asking. I don’t know why but that also made me cry, then I saw two policemen, and as I went to give them a poster, they informed me as to how they were already aware of George and that they had a poster in their station. After what felt like hours yet it had only been 4 hours, the market was about to finish, and I said to Martyn it was time to go, to get back and let the dogs out. He did so well to hide it in his face as come on, he must have hated today. As we went back to the car, I received another call, I knew it was the La Trocha dog, yet obviously, I thanked the person and off we went. Yes, it was the La Trocha dog. As quickly as we saw him or her, he or she was gone.

Back Home

We were now home and very exhausted. The heavens opened again, so I lit the fire, and then Gary messaged: “Be round in an hour.” I got us both a beer and then started explaining to Martyn that if in the next couple of days, he could google earth the area and print a huge, huge map out so that I could give people certain areas to look at. As everyone was concentrating on just one small area. Again, poor sod, as I could tell by now that he was thinking: oh god, she is never going to let this go. Yes, I was obsessed. I was like so obsessed, and every second, every moment of every day, all I could think of was where is my George.

Another Facebook Post

So, my next words were, “Right, if you start on google earth, what with the maps and I will go upstairs and make another Facebook post.” “Ok,” he said.

So, this is what I wrote:
Today I received a phone call, the phone call that my head could cope with but my heart couldn’t. It wasn’t my George as I can’t sleep with all this worry, please tell your neighbours that George is missing.

Yes, that was it. That was my pathetic post. I got myself another beer, and Martyn obviously, come on, I am not that mean, and I sat upstairs and pondered: why don’t people share my posts on Facebook, ok the odd 10 – 15 shares, and that’s always the same people?

Julie’s Words

Then it was somehow how that me Julie had got into my head. All I could think was of all of her words, “Christine, posters, Christine keep it real, more posters Christine.”

A Difficult Decision

I will give her bloody real, yes I am going to do it, I need a photo on Facebook of George and me together, like a heart plea, ufff the thought of my face being shared made me shudder yet this is what I needed to do, so I looked on my…

The Perfect Picture

Phone, and there was the perfect picture. I didn’t look too bad, and George just looked so so happy. OK, so I cried just a little bit, yet I posted it along with this:

The Plea for Help

Villa Franco Coín (Málaga)
Christine (I also put my mobile number)
I really need some ideas of what to do next; the last 2 weeks have felt like one day to me. I can’t understand that. It’s like every day has rolled into one big long nightmare. Where is my George, is he tied up? Is he in a cage? I have searched and searched and searched. I have put up posters, and as I put up each poster, someone takes them down. I can’t sleep with the worry; eating is not a pleasure for me anymore. I only eat because I know I have to so that I am able to carry on searching.

George’s Disappearance

Someone opened my gates. George wasn’t stolen as a very kind lady took 2 photos of my George one hour after he walked out of my gates. He was photographed, just a 20-minute walk from my house (all by track and in the campo). George loves to wee up every weed along a track, so I know he could have easily got home. George has never been seen since; he just disappeared. The complete area has been searched over and over again. The kindness of people that I have never met has been extraordinary; I say this as these wonderful people that I have never met before are giving me the strength to carry on. My George has to be somewhere. My George is such a unique dog that the only human he likes is me. All my friends and family will tell you that. I have said it before; all my friends and family call him moody George. George is so moody that when we find him, he will actually blame me for him being missing.

Launching the Facebook Page

I made a Facebook page for George today. (Well, my future son in law did), just in case someone has taken him, just in case he has been taken out of my area, please please help me, help me make as many people possible aware that my George is missing.

So, that was my post, and yes, it worked. I received 898 shares just on my page alone. So now Kerry really had her work cut out for herself as the messages were coming through thick and fast, plus for every share, she was saying thank you.

Gary’s Visit

“I am outside your gate,” messaged Gary. As he walked in, he had a big casserole dish under his arms. “I am looking after Claudia’s dogs while she is away, and she made this for me to bring round to you and Martyn,” he said. Tears just flowed, and well, what can I say: I ate well, it was delicious.

The Day’s End

I don’t remember any more of that day; I just remember waking up on the sofa at 5am.

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