2012 Finalist

It’s a dog’s life

It’s a dog’s life

Last summer, five days after relocating our family and our business from Cheshire to Devon we made, what some people may consider, a rather rash decision. We took possession of an eight week old Springer Spaniel puppy. 

Now we received a range of reactions to this choice - mainly along the lines of "are you mad?" and "Springers - they never grow up, chew everything and need loads of exercise". All of which we were fully aware and whilst this may have seemed a hasty acquisition, it was actually one we had been considering for well over 18 months. In fact we'd been thinking about it for far longer than we had relocating!

The children were fully on-board promising that, of course, they'd be happy to walk a dog whatever the weather (more of that later), male and female names were chosen and we'd decided on a liver and white Springer. In fact if anyone was reticent, then it was probably me.

However, when two days after moving into our new house my sister-in-law came home from work - a well known farmers supply co-operative - with the details for some Springer pups that hadn't made it on to the notice board yet, I didn't bin the piece of paper she gave me (the thought may have crossed my mind) but gamely handed it over and suggested we give them a call. Well, it was only a phone call after all and they'd probably all be sold wouldn't they?

Anyway I expect you can guess the rest - three days later we brought Bob home to the chaos that is our life. And for the next few months came the bedlam that only a puppy (or newborn child) can bring into the world. What had we done?

But we have been forced to take stock of our lifestyle. The children now have to take responsibility for another living creature. And we now have to go out and get some exercise every day - if everything in life was fair I should be super skinny by now!

When I am out braving the elements walking Bob (yes, those well meant promises didn't extend to driving rain and gale force winds), I have time for reflection and contemplation. I watch him run and play in that mad way that only a spaniel can and wish that, sometimes, my life revolved only around sleeping, eating and acting the fool.

In response to our critics, yes we probably are mad but then so is Bob - he fits in perfectly. Yes, he does chew everything, he isn't showing any signs of growing up eight months on and never seems to be worn out.

But we don't care because now we can't imagine life without him. 

Written by Mel at 12:18


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