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A personal blog is supposedly about your personal life. Snippets and stories that you want to share with your readers, to amuse them, to inform them, sometimes even to challenge them.
All of which I try to do. Often.
But today, as I’m sitting writing this little missive, a pair of gorgeous, big brown eyes are staring at me from the opposite sofa, where ‘my boy’ is snuggled on a big soft throw, with his head resting on an even bigger soft cushion. He’s pretending to be asleep, but I can see the light reflected in his eyes, and he doesn’t fool me.
Some of my readers will already know Buddy’s story, but for my new reader (!) a recap.
In early May 2011, I found myself volunteering at a dog shelter on the Costa Dorada in Spain.
On the first day I went there, I was expecting to pat a few hairy heads, top up some water bowls and probably get in the way. Nothing prepared me for the 100 or so dogs that ran to greet me, nor the other 200 that were housed in blocks of many secure enclosures.
And there he was. Black Dog as he was simply called masquerading as a questionable Catalan Sheep Dog.
Whilst many of the other dogs were barking and frantically jumping up at the enclosure, Black Dog just laid quietly, with his neck and back legs draped over the apex of two beaten up old wooden kennels, and his tummy just resting in the gap, watching every man and his dog go by.
I was told that his chances of being rehomed in Spain were slim. The Spanish aren’t drawn to black hairy dogs, they prefer small white, apartment living dogs. The future looked a bit bleak for Black Dog
But then, just as now, he watched my every move whilst acting really cool and uninterested, whilst all the dogs around him were literally barking mad.
My lifestyle at the time meant that NO reputable dog charity in the UK would approve me a suitable dog adopter, but I knew within the first few days of working at the dog shelter, that Black Dog was coming home with me.
The weeks went by, and June arrived, it was beyond hot, and let me tell you the collective poo of 200 dogs in searing heat is not to be sniffed at.
It was time to lay claim to my dog, and run for the cool hills.
On June 28th 2011, Black Dog was tied to the bumper of my car, and very unceremoniously micro-chipped and vaccinated. I paid my 100e rehoming fee. He jumped into the boot, and with the very warm wind in his fur I drove him away.
Despite very limited knowledge of his background, BUDDY has turned out to be a joy to own. I’ve dragged him from here to there and back again.
Wherever I lay my hat, that’s his home, and today from our home, it’s all about the boy, my boy, BUDDY!
You can also read about Buddy here:
Please come and ‘like’ his page!