When I first started my long association with dogs, having a pet was my prime motivation…particularly coming from a family where pets were not allowed. Indeed, the thought of having a furry, four-legged canine friend was, of itself, almost enough; particularly as my experience with cats was fun but ultimately a much more “one way” experience (with the exception of Poppy, Velo and Bob over the course of the years).
Nowadays this canine association has become much more of a coexistence, with Angus the trusty hound and the boys and girls on the Pooch Walk. However, if someone had asked me all those years ago whether picking up poop, wiping off feet, getting covered in dog slobber and/or mud/dust/grass stickies/mosquito bites (depending upon season), locating prime peeing sites, finding exciting and stimulating places to walk and wondering who was responsible for the “bone marrow” smell in the van would be an accurate snapshot of a typical day I would have said “I don’t think so”.
But, I wouldn’t have things any other way. I have to say that there are few feelings quite as uplifting as being with a dog and seeing that look; the one that says “I’m sharing space with you by choice…if that comes with some little foibles suck it up…it must mean that I like you…!”
I must also say that I like them back…and each and every foible!