All dogs go to heaven

This week my mum’s old dog died. In his prime, he was a handsome Show Champion with the world at his paws. But lately he hadn’t been too steady on those paws, and while his golden heart and his spirit were still strong, Merkel could no longer stand long enough to get himself to the garden when he needed to. Drugs were no longer keeping his aches and pains from arthritis at bay and it was time to let him go.

Merkel was my eldest daughter’s favourite dog. She has a large printout of a photo of her proudly walking him (recall whistle around her neck) on her bedroom door. Telling her he had been put to sleep broke my heart a little – and the news naturally made her bury her head in her pillow too. She is sad that his is gone – but accepting that he had got older and weaker, and that sometimes the kinder thing is to say goodbye before a loved pet suffers.

Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware, Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

The Power of the Dog - Kipling

 

 

Behind him, however, he leaves a legacy. As well as children, grandchildren and great, great grandchildren (!) across the countryside he will always be the first dog my daughter loved. Although as a Hungarian Vizsla, Merkel was medium to large build, he was very gentle and biddable. When he curled up in front of the fire he took his blankie with him, and sucked either that or his toe. He always had a soft toy with him too – which he displayed proudly to anyone he could. He thoroughly enjoyed playing with the puppies born in his house – and offered whelping bitches respite as their offspring tested out their teeth on his ears. He was always pleased to see two-legged guests too and let my children walk, lead and play with him, sitting, fetching and returning as they commanded.

It is often said that alongside health benefits, such as reducing allergies and stress and increasing time spent outdoors, pets offer children the opportunity to learn about responsibility and nurturing – and ultimately about loss too. These lessons are life skills that will prove invaluable as they grow older. But Merkel taught my girls so much more than that. He taught them to be generous with both enthusiasm and love – and for that alone, he will always be cherished.

Rest in peace you fine old man.

Muuuuum, can we have a puppy please?

The majority of the mummies I know have stopped having babies. Instead many of their homes are now enjoying the pitter patter of tiny paws as a cute-as-you-like puppy joins the family. I have to admit I’m quite jealous. I would love to have a dog again – my faithful German Shorthaired Pointer died when my first child was a babe in arms. And that baby is now a seven-year-old daughter who is desperate for me to take the plunge again.

Officially the world's best dog - ever.

 

To be honest, I feel a little odd without a canine companion. This is probably because I was raised by dogs. Well, not literally – I don’t walk on all fours and greet my friends by sniffing their backsides (I don't) – but from age eleven I was raised alongside dogs. In a house that prioritises dogs and revolves around dogs. My parents breed, show, work, train and judge them. My mum spends her time organising dog events and attending them, promoting welfare and then discussing all this with like-minded pooch obsessives over the phone or Internet. Accordingly, my first ‘proper’ job was at Dog World, which produces Britain’s best-selling weekly canine newspaper (although I worked on a title about fish…).

But despite the fact I kinda want a dog and my daughter so very definitely wants a dog, I still feel some reluctance. I put this down to the fact that getting a dog is such a huge commitment. First you need the time and energy to be able to train a puppy properly, and then you need the time and energy to make sure the adult dog it grows into is taken care of properly. For maybe about 15 years! I haven’t even been married as along as that…

In the meantime, my daughter and I have spent hours poring over her dog breed encyclopaedia looking for a good-natured variety that won’t need excessive amounts of grooming or walking. While my heart belongs to pointers and vizslas (the breed I grew up with), realistically I don’t have the outdoors lifestyle and access to the acres of woodland that they need. At the moment the breed that seems most likely to suit us is the whippet. In general a whippet is lively but not too overwhelming for a household with very small members and visitors, his/her exercise needs are not extreme but still require you to go for a good walk twice a day and the short hair means the vacuuming won’t increase ten-fold. Ain’t nobody got time for that!

 

She won't be as pleased when she sees what they've done to her high heels...

 

But I remain hesitant (which must be torture for my optimistic offspring). So many days of my childhood were curtailed because of ‘the dogs’. Any teenage shopping trip was cut short to return to walking duties, friends could be reluctant to come round if they weren’t too keen on overzealous hounds jumping up and even when I suggested a date for my wedding there was a sigh because it clashed with an important dog show. Seriously.

 

Because, if you’re doing it right, being a dog owner is much the same as having a child. You made the decision to welcome it into your home and so the buck stops with you. If your dog chews up your shoes it’s less because he/she is a monster and more because you’ve left that dog unattended and bored for long enough it went to look for something to do. Chewing is something to do. If your dog howls so much the neighbours complain, you have to ask yourself where you were all that time. If your dog is fat, not only do you have to pick up the poo and the vet bills, you are to blame. It’s all about the guilt trip.

And that’s what I’m wondering. Do I really need to put myself under any more pressure? I don’t want to be the lady in the park with the unruly dog, any more than I want to be the parent with the disruptive child at school. It’s bad enough when your kids don’t listen to you – imagine standing in a field calling your dog’s name endlessly while it buggers off in the opposite direction. And I’m pretty sure you can’t bribe a dog to behave well in public by promising some extra pocket money.

But there’s definitely space in my heart for a dog – and surely it must just be a matter of time before my head comes round. I still talk to a lot of the dog owners at the park, and regularly get what I can only describe as ‘dog envy’ when there’s a new pup on the block, pulling at its lead, all big paws and enthusiastic eyes. One day, I tell myself, one day…

How about you - do you kids want a furry or feathery addition to the family? And have you succumbed? Let me know in the comment box below.