I don’t need a lot to be happy. Brian is hard work, but he’s so gorgeous I don’t even notice. Walks are hard, he doesn’t want to leave the house. Once he’s out, though, he seems to enjoy playing in the field, especially when there are other dogs around.
He’s got so much energy I can’t think about anything else but him. And Lily, of course-I’d hate to think she might feel neglected only because she has a new ‘brother’. And it’s good, it makes me feel happy, I don’t care what happens around me, I have my bubble of bliss, I close my eyes and even in my head everything is smiling. We’re getting to the point where Brian starts to be an ordinary, loved dog, not timid and cautious all the time, not trying to hide but getting bolder, being a bit naughty, playing with anything and everything, cuddling to Lily and ‘his people’. Feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling alive.
As I clean the carpet yet again wondering how much more garden can our dining room accommodate I know one day I will actually miss the mess, the rotten wood, the pigs’ ears which, having been buried in compost for a day or two, are picturesquely spread around the house, the socks, the semi-chewed table mats, the bottle tops and other hard plastic bits which invariably end up on the sofa in the carefully selected spot-precisely where I place my rater sensitive behind and discover them with a lively ‘ouch’. It’s puppyhood. I feel privileged to be part of it.