THE BARNABY BLOG - Neighbourhood Notes Vol. 10 - Remembrance Day 2025: A Schnauzer's Reflection from New Malden - FRIDAY 7 NOVEMBER 2025

rob72401
Nov 10
5 min read

Woof! Barnaby here, your favourite bewhiskered correspondent from the streets of New Malden.

This Sunday, 9th November, is a rather special day in New Malden, chums. Even us dogs sense it—there's a quietness in the air, a solemnity that makes even the most enthusiastic tail-wagger pause for a moment. It's when we get together to acknowledge Remembrance Day (which is on the 11th of November) with a respectful community gathering, and whilst I may spend most of my time sniffing lamp posts and investigating interesting smells along the High Street, even this old schnauzer knows that some things are worth stopping for.

A Dog's-Eye View of Our Wonderful Corner of London

Now, let me tell you about New Malden from down here at paw level. It's absolutely splendid! On my daily constitutionals, I encounter the most marvellous array of friends—there's Mrs Kim who always has treats outside her Korean restaurant, the Italian chap at the deli who sneaks me bits of sausage (don't tell my human), and the lovely families from every corner of the world who gather at the park for weekend picnics.

Just yesterday, during walkies, I overheard conversations in at least five different languages before we'd even reached Burlington Road. The smells from the Korean BBQ restaurants mix with those from my favourite place of all AROMA, and honestly, for a food-motivated schnauzer like myself, it's absolutely paradise.

But here's the thing that's been on my furry mind: all of this—this wonderful, colourful, peaceful life we lead in our little corner of South West London—it wasn't always guaranteed. My human tells me that brave people fought and died so that we could all live together like this, sharing our streets, our parks, and yes, even our dog treats, in harmony.

When Darkness Threatened Our Bones... Er, Homes

I may not have been around during the war years (though with this grey muzzle, some might wonder!), but I've heard the stories. London—our London—was bombed. Humans and their loyal canine companions huddled in shelters while the sky rained fire. The very streets where I now trot freely, occasionally stopping to bark at particularly suspicious-looking squirrels, were once filled with danger and fear.

Imagine not being able to go for walkies because it wasn't safe! Imagine the parks where we play fetch being used for anti-aircraft guns! It's enough to make a schnauzer's whiskers droop, I tell you.

But humans—and their faithful dogs—showed remarkable courage. They stood firm. They protected one another. And countless brave souls never came home, so that future generations (and future schnauzers) could enjoy the freedom to live peacefully.

How It All Began: A Schnauzer History Lesson

Adjusts reading glasses with paw

After the First World War ended at 11am on 11th November 1918, King George V (who I'm told was rather fond of dogs—excellent chap) declared that every year at that exact moment, the nation should fall silent for two minutes. Can you imagine? Even the most chatty humans, quiet! Even the most yappy dogs, respectfully silent!

The following year, they built the Cenotaph in Whitehall—I've walked past it during visits to central London, and even I know to be on my best behaviour there. They also brought home an Unknown Soldier to Westminster Abbey, representing all those who fell and could never return to their families. Sniffles into collar

The Poppy: More Than Just Something to Sniff

Now, you might wonder why everyone's wearing these red paper flowers. Let me tell you the story—it's quite moving, even for a tough little terrier like myself.

In the battlefields of Flanders, after all that terrible destruction, something remarkable happened. Red poppies began growing between the graves—nature's way of bringing colour back to darkness. A Canadian doctor named John McCrae noticed this and wrote a poem about it. The words touched hearts across the world.

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row..."

Pauses to wipe eyes with paw

Sorry, something in my eye. Must be the pollen.

The poppy became a symbol of remembrance, and since 1921, the Royal British Legion has sold them to raise money for veterans who need help. Those early poppies were made by disabled veterans themselves—humans helping humans, just as we dogs have always known they should.

I wear a little poppy on my collar every November. Makes me look rather distinguished, I think, though admittedly it does make it harder to sniff things properly.

Why This Schnauzer Thinks It Matters

Look, I'm a simple dog with simple pleasures: walks, treats, belly rubs, the occasional chase after a pigeon (never catch them, mind you—bad for the image). But even I understand that the peaceful life we enjoy in New Malden didn't just happen by accident.

Every Korean family running their restaurant, every British pensioner at the post office, every Polish worker at the construction site, every child from every background playing together at Beverley Park—we're all here because people fought for a world where we could be together without fear.

When I trot down to Burlington Road and see humans of every description getting along, sharing space, being neighbourly—that's the world those brave souls died for. Not a world where everyone's the same, but a world where everyone's welcomed. Where a scruffy schnauzer like me can be friends with Great Danes, Chihuahuas, and everything in between!

This Sunday at 11am: Even Dogs Can Remember

This Sunday, at precisely 11 o'clock, I'll be sitting quietly with my human in our garden. The traffic on the roads will stop. The humans will stand in silence. Even the pigeons seem to pause (probably planning their next campaign of terror against innocent schnauzers, but still).

For two whole minutes, New Malden—like the rest of the country—will remember.

I'll think about all the brave souls who never got to see our lovely, peaceful, wonderfully diverse corner of London. I'll think about the dogs who served alongside them (yes, dogs served too—we're loyal like that). I'll think about the sacrifices made so that I can enjoy my daily waddle to the park without fear.

And then, at 11:02am, life will resume. I'll probably spot a squirrel and forget my dignified demeanour entirely. The Korean restaurants will continue serving their delicious-smelling dishes. The High Street will bustle with its usual wonderful chaos. Children will laugh in multiple languages. And I'll go back to being Barnaby, the fluffy schnauzer who once ate an entire steak at the bbq (we don't talk about that).

But for those two minutes, I'll remember. And I hope you will too.

A Schnauzer's Promise

The poppies we wear aren't about glorifying war—no sensible dog would want that; war means fewer treats and disrupted dinner schedules! They're about remembering those who gave everything so we could live in peace.

So this Remembrance Day, as a proud New Malden schnauzer, I make this promise: I'll continue to be friendly to every dog and human I meet, regardless of where they're from. I'll appreciate every peaceful walk through our wonderful neighbourhood. And I'll never take for granted the freedom to live, bark, and occasionally steal unattended treats in this marvellous, diverse, peaceful corner of London.

Because that's what they fought for, isn't it? Not just survival, but the freedom to live well, to be kind, to build communities where everyone belongs.

Lest we forget.

BarnabyNew Malden's Goodest Boy (self-appointed)Professional Treat Inspector & Community Correspondent

P.S. If you see me on Sunday wearing my poppy with particular pride, perhaps you might have a treat handy? For morale purposes, you understand. Remembering is hungry work.

Woof woof! 🐾