I have been trying to change this page so many times. And I can’t. I think I’d rather stop writing it altogether than change the name of the blog, or the explanation behind its existence.This is Ardbeg’s story first. He was one of many miracle dogs, the ones who survive despite everything, the ones who had been given a mission to save someone’s life, the ones who just need to find the lost human and let them believe it’s the other way round.
Here you go then, my first, hardly changed version:
The ratio of animals to humans in our house is 2:8. We have two dogs, two cats, two snakes and two zebra finches. Most are rescues – as were the pets we had before.
The reason why ‘Lily and Ardbeg’ exists is simple. A few months ago I found out my dog Ardbeg had liver cancer. And I had to occupy my brain with something to stop the frenzy of auto-destructive thoughts.But I knew he’d be in the centre of anything I do.
Ardbeg was quite special to me. It was love from the first sight. He’d had the worst imaginable experience with people, so I will never forget how he just followed me home, uneasy but determined to trust me. He was always just mine, for a long time I was the only one who could pick him up, hug him, kiss him. It was difficult at times and maybe because of that I find life without him hard to imagine.He had been beaten, kicked, abused, people had tried to kill him and yet he survived. Then nobody thought he was good enough for adoption, he was described as ‘plain’ and ‘hard work’. What they didn’t know was that behind all that there was the biggest heart imaginable.The time in the shelter didn’t help with his fear and insecurities.But I fell in love and I think he knew it. He was my life, my joy, my treasure. I swell with pride when people say how sweet and lovely he was.
Lily had little chance to be adopted. She was kept in one room for the first three years of her life. When we got her she didn’t know the world outside, everything made her tremble, she was discovering everything like a puppy.She is another dog given no opportunity to have a good start.
She’s curious, brave, adventurous and it’s impossible not to love her.A vicious hunter (well, sort of) and a fluffy toy in one. One her cuddle and all the sadness of the universe is reduced to a tiny speckle of dust.She makes me happy, she keeps me sane, she gives me hope it’ll be ok.
And I’m Alex, I’m hard work, too. So we seem to get on well.
Ardbeg died on the 16th of April 2016. The blog wasn’t going to last, but it does as I’ve found the most wonderful people and blogs here. It still hurts to see his photos here, but I promise, I’ll change this page when I find enough strength to deal with him not being a part of my life.