“The sedative is starting to take effect now”.
I began to tell the vet of her uncertain start to life but hesitated. That didn’t seem important anymore, it was the here and now, this exact moment, and I found myself lost in the vibrations of her gentle snores, the soft rise and fall of her warm breath.
She was absolutely and unashamedly my child substitute. As one half of a childless lesbian couple, a puppy was bound to become our baby, and neither of us ever denied it. Still, it was my idea to go looking for a pup and when I met her, I knew she was the only one that would do.
Now, more than 12 years later, I lay on the floor stroking her soft warm head, gently kissing her white muzzle. As I stroked her brow, I thought about how she had been a stray, picked up by the dog warden on boxing day, and taken to the RSPCA. I had only ever had rescue dogs. There were too many unwanted dogs in the world, and I had always said that rescues make the best breed.
A rescue pup with no history, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting. A staffie cross maybe, but as she grew, and she grew fast, she became clumsier and the lurcher goofiness came out. Her scornful stare was something to be feared the older she got.
When my marriage broke down, I couldn’t stay in the city, so I looked across the bridge to Wales. The breakup was stressful, but the marriage had been toxic. The arguments led to violence. She had this uncanny knack of knowing when an argument was about to start and would run away and hide. With these warnings, I became more astute to look for these signs and we both ran.
Living on my own in a strange town was scary. Having to look after her gave me the structure to my day, a reason to get up, to get out and explore or an excuse to go up the mountain and get some fresh air. She was also the incentive to rebuild my life, to work for something better, and create a home comfortable for the both of us.
When I eventually met a new woman and introduced them, they hit it off straight away. They adored each other, her face always lit up and her tail wagged excitedly each time she saw her, no matter if it had been five minutes or five days. If a dog could approve of a human, she certainly did.
As I sat, telling her how she could go to rainbow bridge where she could be pain free and reunite with all her friends that had passed, tears rolling down my face, a new realisation dawned on me. I had not rescued her, she had in fact rescued me, and not just once. She was my one great dog, and she had indeed changed everything.
