A very personal view...
 2012 was an remarkable year for Lauren Langman and Mathew Rouse. Two
extraordinary things happened to them - both life changing and emotional. Life will never be
the same for them. Lauren opens her heart in this very personal story of life and death.
So
do you want the good or the bad?
I
am an eternal optimist. I am always at least half full and, more often than not, a bit more
than that so let us start with the good. Good news makes everyone feel good!
On
the 9 February 2012, my partner and I had a baby girl. We called her Eliza. I remember being
about 18 years old and saying time and time again to friends, family, boyfriends and
girlfriends that I would never ever have a baby. Never, ever! Well, there you have it. I did!
With just some gas and air, cloudy lemonade, a cold towel on my head and the odd square of
chocolate she was born!
 The
experience was amazing.
Life is so
precious, and her birth was a moment that I will never ever forget. (Well, maybe it was
more than a moment – a good few hours, if we are truly honest.) Matt was amazing! He is my
partner, my soul mate and my best friend.
I
have never ever felt so out of control and yet so, so, looked after. It takes a very special
person to help you through that. And Eliza was loved immediately with a whole new love, a
different love and a truly deep and long lasting one. I love my dogs and I love Eliza very
differently. I can't explain it - both are special and unique.
And then the low...
I have to
say this year was the lowest of the low. I have never hit such depths of uncontrollable
sadness.
A
friend and employee at the time was
travelling with
our young and very specially talented collie Riot, aptly named Devongem Dark Knight. He was
home-bred and gorgeous - as black as they come but soft-eyed. Oh, how he had big brown soft
eyes and a huge ruff that I loved to snuggle into. At just four years old, he sparkled with a
glossy health, a powerful and pushy dog. All in all he suited his name.
 The
dogs were travelling with our friend to visit Fern for a bath and a full groom and to have a
play session at doggie daycare where he loved obsessing about football and generally living it
up with the other 'lads' - retrievers, boxers and his other buddies.
Our friend stopped on the motorway to settle a dog in the back of her vehicle and somehow - I
still can't believe it to this day - Riot managed to get out onto the A30, a busy dual
carriageway. Then the worst thing we could have ever imagine happened. Riot was killed at just
four years old. His life stolen away from us in a moment.
I
was at home. I had been teaching in the sand school at Bowerland since 8am that morning. I had
a good customer with me along with my baby Eliza, Fiji and my mum. I could tell instantly that
something was wrong, deeply wrong. My poor mum couldn't look me in the eye. I knew
instinctively that something horrible - something final - had happened.
My
poor mum gave it away. It was the look in her eyes, her expression and her demeanour. She can't
lie - just ask anyone who knows her. She's useless at it. I now realise the depths you would go
as a parent to protect your children.
 Riot
was gone.
When I saw
her face, I thought for a split second it was one of our cats. I never imagined that it would
be our beautiful boy, so vibrant, so full of life. He was a great dog. Only weeks before we had
been celebrating his G7 win at our favourite show DINAS and drinking and singing along to Tom
Rooney and watching Ashleigh Butler. Life can be so fragile.
In
that moment it seemed like our lives were over. Matt wasn't working at home that day. My dad
had already left to collect Riot's now seemingly small and lifeless body from the road. My mum
didn't want me to have to see it. She still wanted to shield us from the sadness. I never ever
realised the impact of death. I hadn't lost anyone in my life - perhaps an old dog and the odd
cat and my hamster or four, but never in such a tragic way - a way that could have been
prevented, a careless moment - and such an absolute waste.
To
this day, not a day goes by without us crying. In fact, I cannot read this piece without
welling up.
 Life
goes on. It's just different.
My life has
new meaning. My balancing act has created a whole new level of awareness. With both Riot
leaving and Eliza arriving, I began to appreciate the fragility of life as well as the amazing
moments you have together on a whole new level.
I
don't believe that it was meant to happen. I can't understand why that would ever be. In fact,
I hate it when people throw that in. I do, however, now recognise how such precious life is and
how it can be whisked away in just a moment, a tiny moment.
We
loved Riot. We knew what we had. He was a special dog and very precious. He and Matt were going
far. From the moment he was born, he had this presence. We never doubted him and didn't want to
change him one bit. So many handlers want their dog to be this and that and the other, i.e. to
have more drive, to have prick ears, to have a longer coat, to be a certain colour. We didn't.
We had our perfect dog. He was everything we wanted. I only wish that I could have seen him
grow old with our family, but we had to realise in that moment he was gone.
We
buried Riot at the bottom of the garden, near our training area, on the day after the accident
happened. There was not a mark on his body. We wrapped him in his comfy rug with his favourite
tuggies, his G7 trophies - all our hopes and our dreams were buried in a tiny sleep. About a
dozen of our closest friends were there. It might sound over the top to some, but we needed
their support. We appreciated the Rafters food and drink, and we all celebrated his life with
us, even though it was just for a short time.
 So
back to finding the balance
For once I
do not mean proprioception, body awareness or core strength as demonstrated so nicely by Fiji
in her stand tall. I mean work, life, relationships, baby and so on. Are there enough hours in
the day? I can honestly say I would not object to a few more.
How do you move on?
Can you ever move on?
Eliza and our five other dogs have forced us to do just that.
Life has new
meaning for me. On the whole, I now appreciate its fragility as well as those amazing moments you have. I don't believe
the accident was meant to happen. I can't understand why that would ever be. I do, however, now
recognise how such precious life is and how it can be whisked away in a moment, a tiny moment.
 So
how does it work? Or does it work?
Having a baby is not
dissimilar to having a puppy. I always bring my puppies home around six weeks - controversial I
know... tut tut tut. At that age, their needs at that age are pretty simple but time consuming
- warmth, food, love and toilet breaks - otherwise known as nappies with babies! I actually
found the whole thing relatively easy. Life with a baby has just changed in the sense that you
have more to prepare for, live for and laugh at.
I
don't know how that happened with me not working for three months, but the business has got
busier. We now have flyball, lifeskills and Dash2Devon camp incorporating behaviour talks,
'Naughty But Nice' class, Heelwork to Music and so much more. The company growth is a great
motivator as well as a huge test on every relationship I have – Matt Rouse, Eliza, my mum, my
friends, the other instructors, the whole package.
While balance of life with so many dogs can be hard, they are also incredibly useful with
Eliza. They are great at reading moods. Their emotional intelligence never ceases to amaze me,
and they are continually refreshing to watch with a young child. Reef is just a big goof with
her. Popi adores her. Tik thinks she is something to play with. Bailey is her right-hand man
and Fiji her babysitter! We also have a young pup, Coco who is living with us for just a short
time but is already fabulous with Eliza - and Eliza is mutually fabulous back.
 Since
that moment I think differently about life
My
advice is to stop waiting around. Our lives really are good. Enjoy every minute as best you can
and quit whinging. That's what I am trying to do. For instance, I've wanted to study canine
behaviour for about five years. I have now started.
I
have been to two gigs recently - Plan B and Florence & the Machine. We go out for meals when we
can take time and when we can't, we simply have to enjoy the odd romantic service-station
dinner on the way to or from a show.
During the year we mess around with our dogs. We go to shows, spend weekends as a family unit
and enjoy 'good ol' evenings, having dinners with friends and getting merry. In the winter, we
train and work hard. We are living our dream.
But is
this really the good life?
Actually, it is! There are no dress rehearsals - really there aren't. Life is now - as it is -
and actually this whole balance thing is pretty good, right?
Don't wait for luck. Go for it, every inch of it and Run Riot!'
 About
the author...
Lauren Langman
runs a dog
training company in Devon, Devon Dogs Ltd and runs the LLAAI Accredited Instructor programme
for other up and coming instructors. She co-owns Bowerland Holiday Cottages, teaches seminars
across the UK and abroad and is currently studying for her Advanced Canine Diploma in Animal
Canine Behaviour.
Lauren
and her partner Matt currently own five Border Collies, four of whom are G7 and one
talented youngster who is on her way up through the grades.
Photos: John Hill, Lesley Huggins & Lauren Langman
First published 23 January 2013
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