If you take a trip down to Roche’s Point and see a man walking his dog along the beach, chances are that the man is Jim Hurley; his dog, Pal. In October 1997, Jim Hurley bought a red & white setter pup, brought him home and, from that moment on, canine & companion were inseparable. ‘I’d always had dogs,’ Jim tells the East Cork Journal, ‘but this one was truly special.’ Little did Jim know, that three and a half years later, this particular dog would save his life.
As a small boy, Jim and his family would travel down from the city and spend holidays in Saleen, visiting Roche’s Point. Jim would walk along the beach most days, stroll up to the lighthouse and stare across the water, always with a dog at his side. It became his home away from home; its residents became his friends.
In the 1970s, Jim started heading towards Whitegate of his own accord. A keen swimmer, he would often go swimming at White Bay but, in later years, deemed the hill as ‘a bit too much’ after a long swim. And so Roche’s Point became his new, literal, watering-hole of choice – once again, accompanied by a four legged friend.
‘Pal was just a character,’ Jim smiles, ‘He’s the only dog I’ve ever known that could actually dive! I’d throw a white stone into the water near the jetty, and I’d watch him go up on his hind legs, bob around a bit, take a couple of deep breaths, jump up like a dolphin and plunge down into the water. A few seconds later he’d jump back up, looking smug, with the stone in his mouth!’
‘He could swim underwater too,’ Jim laughs, ‘with his eyes open like a seal. I’ve had other dogs who’d try the same thing, but they’d always come rushing up to the surface in a sea of bubbles – they had no technique!’
For three and a half years, Jim & Pal would journey to Roche’s Point almost every day, becoming a permanent fixture at the beach.
But that was to change…
On March 4th, 2001, Jim took Pal for a walk along the Mallow Road in Cork City – a common enough occurrence – but that day would prove to be life-changing for both man and dog.
‘The last thing I remember is walking along the road,’ Jim recalls. ‘The next minute I was lying inside an ambulance, surrounded by tubes. The first words out of my mouth were “Where’s Pal?”‘
Unbeknownst to Jim, while the paramedics struggled to save his life, Pal was also fighting for his.
Jim would later learn that a stolen van had hit the kerb, mounted the pavement and careened into the back of the duo on their morning walk.
And so begins a parallel tale:
As medics at CUH rushed to get Jim back into a stable condition (he suffered spinal injuries, broken bones and injuries to his internal organs), Jim’s family were fighting for Pal, bringing him to Westside Veterinary Clinic on the Model Farm Road.
Pal sustained broken legs, a fractured pelvis and copious other injuries, and yet he just didn’t give up.
Neither did his owner.
‘I couldn’t’ Jim recalls, ‘All the time I spent in a bed at CUH I was thinking about Pal, and wanting to get back to him. I knew my family would be taking care of Pal for me, but it just wasn’t the same thing.’
When Jim emerged from hospital, Pal was there to greet him, although Jim would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the same dog that had walked down the Mallow Road a few weeks earlier…
‘He was a lot more reserved than before,’ Jim states, ‘He had always been very close to me, but now he made it his business to stay by my side at all times. It was as if he knew that I needed the support.’
A short time later, Pal and Jim resumed their walks at Roche’s Point – a little slower perhaps than before.
After many subsequent trips to the hospital and the vet, it appeared that both Jim & Pal were on the road back to normalcy but, in 2005, Jim learned that he would have to go back to hospital – this time to the Mercy – for a 9 hour long operation, the result of spinal damage caused in the accident. The doctors gave Jim only a 50/50 chance of survival and there were worries that he might never walk again after the operation.
‘The night before the surgery,’ Jim recalls, ‘I went for a walk at Roche’s Point with Pal. Before we left that night, I took a long look at the lighthouse and at Pal – and I never looked back. All the time that I was in hospital, I always, always kept that image in my mind. I only put it out of my mind when I was actually back down there on the beach, with Pal.’
But, after less than 2 days out of hospital, Jim was struck by a bug and was readmitted. ‘I got out of there in double quick time,’ Jim states. ‘My family had Pal but they wouldn’t be looking after him as well as I would – or so I thought – and I knew that, after all we had been through, he would be missing me too.’
And so things continued. Jim would be back in hospital; Pal back to the vet.
Jim, a Wexford man by heart, had long had a keen interest in Vinegar Hill and had often taken Pal up to Wexford with him for the annual commemoration of the 1798 battle that took place there. ‘It became our place,’ Jim states, ‘Pal got to know it as if it was Patrick Street or even Roche’s Point. In 2005, I made a promise to myself that Pal and I would get to Vinegar Hill that year, after everything that had happened and I’d even arranged to have a gold fountain pen made to commemorate the achievement. Sure enough, on July 23rd of that year, Pal and I made it to Enniscorthy. There was a great sense of achievement.’
As the years passed by, Jim & Pal got back into their Roche’s Point routine, becoming firm friends with several locals, who would always take the time for a chat with Jim and a friendly word for Pal.
‘He was a special kind of dog,’ Jim admits, ‘I think the accident really cemented our friendship. He had me and I had him, and that meant that everything was going to be alright. If I ever had a problem, I could just take a look at him and then carry on, because everything would be OK.’
In 2008, Jim & Pal made their last trip to Wexford together. By that stage, Pal – almost 84 in dog years – was getting tired, and Jim knew that this would be the last time Pal would come to Vinegar Hill – and therefore it would be the last time he, too, would visit.
On November 30th, 2009, Pal died and Jim lost his best friend.
‘We buried Pal by Roche’s Point lighthouse – the place he loved most,’ Jim sadly recalls. ‘The people of the village – including a vicar – turned out for his burial ceremony, to say goodbye to Pal.
‘That day I lost a great friend and an old comrade – it was the end of an era,’ Jim states. ‘Pal had always been a great support to me, fighting every battle with me, always at my side. He helped to get me through every operation, all the pain and more. I can still see him now, when I’d come back from the hospital or doctor’s surgery – he’d lie on his back, and wag his tail – he was just so happy I was home again.’
Jim, a shy man by admission, didn’t want to tell this story, but a chance meeting at the beach with this journalist changed his mind.
‘If this story helps anyone,’ Jim states, ‘then I’m happy to have told it. Whether it’s a cat, dog or even a tortoise – if you have a pet that depends on you, it’s amazing the strength you can get from that. Pal was of tremendous benefit to me and I wouldn’t have been without him for the world. If I hadn’t had him to look forward to coming home to, I don’t think I would still be here today.’
And yet here he is.
So, if you take a trip down to Roche’s Point and see a man walking his dog along the beach, chances are that the man is Jim Hurley; his dog, Pal.
‘I called my new dog Pal too,’ Jim smiles, ‘They are all pals of mine. But Pal, the red & white setter – he was truly something special. The new Pal and I will get that kind of bond too – in time.’
But, for now, Jim Hurley is content to walk along the beach with his dogs, past and present, at his side – all pals together.
