THIS LIFE: BY CLAIRE ALLAN
I HAVE NEVER IN MY LIFE desired to be a dog owner. In fact, I’m generally not great with animals at all. I grew up in a family where our only pet was a cuddly toy dog called Ding Dong who belonged to my little sister. He was very much a part of our family and even appears in my wedding photos. In many ways he was my ideal pet.
He required little or no care. No feeding. No grooming – although he did have a variety of outfits, including a fireman’s get-up which he wore most of all – and certainly no walking around the garden picking up little parcels of poop at ungodly hours.
Six years ago, when my son was eight, I conceded to his demands to get him a pet and we adopted two lovely little kittens by the names of Alfie and Kitty Purry, who have largely gone about their business as if they rule the roost. They do whatever they can to avoid interacting with any of us, except when hungry. Still, although they required relatively little care and are largely selfsufficient, they seemed to fill that ‘we need pets’ hole in my children’s lives.
Until last year that was. My daughter was then eight and she decided she desperately, more than anything else in the world, wanted a dog.
I told her no. Her daddy told her no. Jointly we sat down and explained how looking after two cats was enough and that dogs were a lot of work. She remained determined. In fact, so determined she launched a one-woman campaign to break us down and get her heart’s desire. (I think it’s important to share that my husband soon turned on me and I found myself fighting a three-against-one situation.)
First of all, my daughter, Cara, bought a notebook and wrote out pages and pages of information on how to care for a puppy. She drew maps of the walking routes she would take him or her on. She wrote about the vaccination schedule. She filled in approximately five pages just with name ideas. Still I said no.
The next step was a series of mysterious letters arriving at my desk from ‘Zorgton, the Alien’ who had come to earth to persuade me to let Cara get a dog. We enjoyed a back and forth over a few days and I have to admit Zorgton made some good arguments. He even tried to ask me out on a date. But I remained firm. No, we were not getting a dog.
Next the blackmail started and, believe me, my daughter knew how to go for the jugular! I was threatened that if I didn’t give in to her demands within 30 days, she would kidnap my favourite singer, Michael Bublé, and stop all supplies of Diet Coke – my one vice – coming into our house.
We did laugh about it, but it didn’t change my mind. And my daughter started to accept that her dream was not going to come true, just yet.
But then, when I saw a picture of an eight week old border collie puppy looking for a new home, I softened. With soulful dark brown eyes and the cutest face, I saw her and suddenly wondered if we could, maybe, manage a puppy after all.
We didn’t tell Cara though. We decided to keep the big surprise as just that. My husband set off to pick up our new addition and I waited at home with a little girl who was tired from a day at school and totally unaware of what was to about to happen.
When she opened the door to see her daddy and our new puppy, she screamed and declared it her ‘best day ever’ before naming our new arrival Izzy. Izzy and I soon fell into a routine together, as we house trained, practised recall, and went on walks in all weather. We even found ourselves on cold Saturday mornings at puppy socialisation classes.
My apathy towards ever owning a dog started to fade. In fact, the little mischievous ball of fluff started to make her way firmly into my heart.
Yes, she has been challenging at times. She has chewed two pairs of my glasses. She took a while to realise that it was only acceptable for her to go to the loo outside. She still doesn’t realise how lacking in grace she can be when she lands square on top of me in the small hours looking for a cuddle.
But she has brought so much joy to our home – and not just to Cara who has turned into a very responsible dog owner. We laugh every day with Izzy. We take long walks together. We always have an excited fur-ball – who we refer to as a hug-seeking missile – to welcome us warmly when we come home after any amount of time away. Every tough day can be made infinitely easier with a puppy cuddle and the unconditional love she shows all of us. I’ve gone from being a reluctant owner, persuaded only by an eight-year-old with a good heart and a great sense of humour, to a being very proud doggy mama who will boast to anyone she meets about her third baby. And I regret nothing!
My daughter was so determined to get a dog that she launched a one-woman campaign to break us down