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A tale of two heroes

The brave friends' love for their dogs was to end in tragedy...


Published by: Jessica Gibb
Published on: 8 March 2012

Slippers on, I trudged down to the kitchen yawning my head off. God, nothing was going to wake me up this morn... ‘Ah!' I screamed. Something small and furry had jumped up at my legs!
Flicking on the light, I stared down into the chocolate eyes of a brown and white pup. ‘Ian!' I yelled. Minutes later, my son Ian, 19, shuffled into the kitchen.
‘His name's Charlie,' he
smiled, scooping the American Staffordshire terrier pup into his arms. ‘Can we keep him?'
‘Umm, could have sworn I told you no last night,' I huffed. Ian had plonked himself next to me while I'd been watching EastEnders. As soon as he'd said ‘Mu-um', I'd known he was after something.
‘Someone I know has a dog they can't keep,' he'd smiled. ‘And I'm going to have him.'
‘Er, no you're not,' I'd replied. But Ian must have snuck Charlie in after I'd gone to bed. Watching the pup nuzzling Ian's neck now, I could already feel myself giving in.
When my husband Andrew, 46, came down, he rolled his eyes.
‘That boy always gets his own way with you,' he groaned.
It was true, Ian was a bit of a mummy's boy. I'd always clear his plate for him and iron his clothes. I'd have done it for his brother Keith, 23, too, but my fussing drove him mad.
But Ian appreciated it, told me he loved me 20 times a day. And he was a good boy. I shouldn't really have been surprised that he was as good as gold when it came to looking after his dog.
‘It's taking his mind off not having a job,' I smiled to Andrew. Ian wanted to be a labourer, but jobs were few and far between.
Still, having all that spare time meant he could take Charlie for lovely long walks along the river, past all the locks. Usually he went with his best friend Kadir Shillingford, 25 - he had the same type of dog, called Bailey.
Kadir was lovely, such a good lad. ‘You going to keep my boy out of trouble today?' I'd always tease when he came round.
When Charlie was 11 months, Kadir knocked for Ian with Bailey. ‘Mum, can you stay with Charlie today?' Ian asked. ‘I'm going to buy some trainers, and don't want both dogs left outside the shop.'
‘Okay, but stay out of trouble,' I warned. ‘Me?' he joked.
For the next couple of hours, I pottered around the house. Then the phone rang. It was Kadir's girlfriend Stella.
‘There's been an accident,' she gasped. ‘Come to the lock.'
I called Andrew and picked him up from work, then we rushed to the Penton Hook Lock in Staines.
We pulled up - and my stomach churned. Police were everywhere, a helicopter circled overhead. I rushed over to the nearest officer.
‘There's been an accident,' he said gently. ‘We... haven't found Ian yet.'
Where could he be? I looked around, expecting to see him. There was Stella holding Bailey.
‘The dog ran into the river,' she sobbed. ‘Kadir went after him, but the current was too strong. H-he started to struggle... Ian dived in.'
‘All three were fighting to stay afloat... only Bailey came out.'
For two hours or more, Andrew held me tight as we watched divers search. Suddenly, there was a frenzy of activity. They dragged a body out of the freezing water.
My knees buckled. ‘It's Kadir,' I sobbed, devastated. I clung to the hope that Ian was still alive.
The search was called off until morning. How I hated leaving...
Back home, once Charlie realised Ian wasn't with us, he trotted to the window and stared out, waiting patiently for him.
At first light, we were back at the lock. An hour passed, two, three... ‘We've found a body,' an officer said. ‘Mr Coy, can you do the identification?'
It seemed a lifetime until Andrew was walking back to me, his head bowed. I sank to my knees and sobbed. My beautiful son had been found 20ft down, stuck in the jetty under the weir.
At home, I went straight up to Ian's bedroom. As I sat on his bed, Charlie put his chin on my lap and whined. ‘I'm sorry, boy,' I said.
For the next week, I wandered around the house like a ghost. Charlie looked eagerly out of the window the whole time, still waiting. But his master was never coming home.
I visited Ian at the funeral parlour. I was so nervous as I walked into the room, but as soon as I saw him a strange calm came over me. My boy looked just like he was sleeping.
‘Mum's here. Look, I've brought your favourite Adidas tracksuit bottoms and cream hooded cardigan for you to be dressed in. And I've brought these...'
I took my pink fluffy socks out of my bag and put them on his feet. Closing my eyes, I could still see Ian shuffling around the house in them when his feet were cold.
‘If your mates could see you now,' I'd tease.
Thinking about it now made me fill with so much love, so much sadness, I felt like I'd be torn apart.
Knowing that Ian died trying to save his best friend is my only comfort. Now his ashes are kept in the living room, so he's not alone. It's nice to think he's keeping an eye on me and his dad, and Charlie...
Collette Coy, 45, Staines, Surrey