Part-time pooches
BILLY CAME into my life exactly one year ago. I met him online. I spied his profile and was immediately attracted: tall, handsome, in possession of his own hair and teeth and housetrained. He sent me a message and we met — it was love at first sight. Billy is a beautiful, long-haired lurcher. Yes, a member of the canine species (related to the greyhound). OK, the dog is not some kind of canine prodigy — it was his owner, Alexa, who contacted me through borrowmydoggy. com, a website that matches dog owners with potential borrowers. The idea came to Londoner Rikke Rosenlund in 2012, after spending a Sunday walking her neighbour’s labrador. Borrowers pay £12.99 a year and owners £44.99 — both memberships include verification, accident and third-party liability insurance and a 24-hour vet line.
I had posted my profile, which summed up my canine credentials, so potential lenders would feel at ease that their beloved pooch would be in safe hands. I have grown up with pets, wrangled animals for Ridley Scott and worked at animal shelters all over the world, most recently spending a month looking after the disabled dogs of Sri Lanka.
Despite my love of animals and despite the fact my little garden flat could probably just about accommodate a small furry creature, my lifestyle does not leave much time for a permanent pooch. So when I heard about the website, it made perfect sense.
Alexa and Billy live 10 minutes’ walk away and not only have I gained a beautiful part-time lurcher but also a friend in Alexa, an artist who shares many interests with me. I have Billy once a week; I take him for long weekend walks and occasional sleepovers.
Alexa initially just needed some help with walking Billy on the odd day but last summer she broke both legs and could not walk for three months: “Without Borrowmydoggy I would have lost my dog. I had a rota of four people — Billy had a diary.”
Of course, it does require trust to let a relative stranger walk your dog but Alexa says: “Most people we’ve met have been absolutely lovely. At the beginning, Billy was very cautious. Now he’s used to different people.”
Billy has become part of my family. He and my mother’s little Yorkie, Pickle, are best buddies, though Billy has occasionally sat on Pickle, his longlegged clumsiness getting the better of him. My three-and-a-half-year-old nephew, Robin, loves walking Billy around Alexandra Palace. The pair of them makes a great sight — Robin and Billy are about the same height. When I pop over to pick up Billy, it is such a joy to open the door and have him squeal and jump all over me with excitement.
The sleepovers are fun too. I have set up a perfectly adequate dog bed on the floor but, come bedtime, one look at me with his big, beautiful eyes and he is on my bed. Laid out horizontally, Billy is the size of a fully-grown man. I do have to put up with the odd snore but there is nothing to beat my morning greeting of a cuddle and a wet lick on my face. Billy is a charmer and attracts a lot of attention. Last summer, he was proud runner-up for the title of most handsome dog at a Maccabi dog show.
There is the odd blip — Billy has an unfortunate habit of catching (and eating) squirrels. Luckily I have yet to witness the gruesome sight but in his pursuit of Messrs Nutkin and Co he nearly knocked over the Leader of the Opposition, who was jogging in Finsbury Park. Jeremy Corbyn seemed nonplussed, but then I am sure he is well used to running for cover by now. Lurchers, who can reach speeds of 30mph, have a habit of colliding with others while on the run. The way to divert Billy is to gesture away from the body. In truth, I usually just close my eyes and pray. So far it seems to have worked.
Meeting Billy has filled a dog-shaped hole in my life and has made me a very happy human.