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This morning, there was a knock on my door. It was one of my neighbours (a small business owner in Dorchester) who had remembered that it was the first anniversary of my precious Willow & bear coming into my life. He also has a rescue dog called Max, and was delivering a ‘one-year birthday’ present from Max to them. Such kindness blew me away.
I never cease to be amazed by the community that is dog ownership. It’s a simple fact that because you own a dog, you are a kindred spirit and part of a very special group of people.
Personally, I avoid people like the plague who pronounce with confidence, “I’m a cat person”, or claim they don’t like dogs because they were bitten or frightened as a child. That’s fear and something completely different to ‘disliking’ them. Liking cats and preferring them as companions is also fine but again, should not result in ‘disliking’ dogs!
I’ve loved and owned cats and dogs since childhood, and I find that those who actively dislike dogs should be avoided at all costs. Of course, before all those dog haters start messaging me proclaiming how lovely they are really, I accept that this is a gross generalisation and entirely prejudiced on my part (and maybe a tad tongue in cheek for poetic licence), but perhaps, a bit like the people who blame all dogs for one bad experience, I will accept that I’m being a tad unfair.
As anybody who has lived with a dog knows, they can and do save and change lives. Now that research has been done to prove the amazing and positive effects that can be found in dog ownership, we should all take a moment to remember how, in so many ways, they’re supporting human beings. They assist the blind, deaf, disabled, autistic, old, sick, and search and rescue teams, while diagnosing diseases and protecting our law enforcers – and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Okay, I hear you say, “but what have your two, shouty little Dachshunds ever done for mankind?” A lot, actually. When I lost Arthur and Ila after 16 years, I lost my entire family. I was incredibly bereft and in danger of losing myself. I live alone, and these two little furry friends have wormed their way in, given me purpose, friendship, someone to talk to, and got me out walking despite constant pain while I wait for a new hip. Equally, they have protected my mental health, and if not credited with anything else, they should be rewarded for keeping me out of the doctor’s surgery.
I’ve owned PAT dogs, visiting hospices and care homes, water rescue dogs and therapy dogs who have helped children with fear, autism and disassociation. My dogs have more than given back to society, and I’ve seen with my own eyes the positive difference they can make.
My heart plummets every time I see on social media that there is yet another ‘top’ story about dog poo! Of course, I’m not diminishing the effect of people not picking up, but there are so many more responsible dog owners than there are bad ones, and why is it always the dogs that get the blame and not the owners?
So, when we came back from Centenary field this morning, I opened their birthday present for them.
They showed great interest. I allowed them to pick their own doughnut biscuit, and Willow chose a chocolate-coloured one and Bear a white one. He picked his up and rushed off to his bed to demolish it, while Willow preferred to cover my chair in crumbs. He ploughed straight in, while she picked off all the ‘icing’ first (just like kids!). They really appreciated them, as do I and the kind, thoughtful gesture from my neighbour.
Willow and Bear will hopefully celebrate our anniversary tomorrow with furry friends, and I’ve planned a trip over the weekend. We will go paddling and then tie (biodegradable) vegetable ribbons on a wishing tree. We will make wishes for all those little dogs living in horrible, cruel conditions to be emancipated to find their own loving forever homes. I look at little Bear sometimes, asleep in my arms like a baby, and wonder how anybody could ever have beaten him and broken his nose.
One year on, I recognise how fearful he actually was when he first came into my home, but thankfully, just how far he, in particular, has come. Willow, too, has come on in leaps and bounds and, with ongoing training, love, patience and exposure to safe environments, I believe, eventually, I can celebrate having two confident puppies.
Does it feel like a year? In some ways. It’s almost as if they’ve always been here, as we’re so comfortable with each other. But, in other ways, no. We still have a way to go with improving confidence and trust, becoming less shouty and feeling safe in new spaces and people.
Snuggled up with them yesterday watching TV, it struck me that if I’m sitting working, writing, relaxing, or falling asleep, there’s now always a small dachshund somewhere; up my jumper, on my lap, cradled in my arms, or just a warm head under my hand. It’s like we have to be in constant contact. Do I mind? Absolutely not. I’ve never felt so loved or valued, and I give thanks every day that we were able to rescue each other.
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