Whilst enjoying our Sunday morning walk, me and my housemate came across a man walking with 2 elbow crutches with a lad I can only describe as my twin – handsome, 4 legs, luscious black coat – in our favourite park. Me and ‘twinny’ dashed around like loons for a few minutes whilst my housemate talked the hind legs off my new pals housemate.
I never look like I’m paying attention but unlike blokes of the 2 legged variety I can actually multi-task. So turns out my pal was also dumped at the side of a road but he was much younger – only 8 weeks old when he was found by his housemate.
His housemate went on to tell mine that 2 weeks previous to finding ‘the pup’ he’d been given an ultimatum by medical specialists: get walking, or lose your legs. He’d apparently racked his brains as to how he could ever make this happen as at the time he’d been howling in pain and had lost all motivation, almost resigning to the fact he’d be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He’d asked his specialist how?: to which they’d been blunt and said ‘find a way’.
Then in the nick of time, my pal (who I’m now learning is a bit too boisterous for a lazy mutt like me) with his irresistible puppy dog eyes had sat abandoned at the roadside and this poor man in crisis had spotted him as he drove past. He picked him up and the rest is history. From that day he walked, he had to, us dogs don’t need advising 30 minutes exercise, 5 days a week is good for us – we’d walk 30 miles if only we could motivate the 2 legged variety a little more. So this man went on to compliment my pal a bit like my housemate does me. He mentioned how he’d given him a lease of life, motivated him when he had nothing left, and he believes it’s a miracle they found each other.
Now I don’t mean to be bragging here but my housemate is pretty similar, but it’s not her legs that are fragile, it’s her mind – not that she’d admit it. I made a similar appearance to my pal, 7 years ago tomorrow actually, and me and my housemate have been by each others sides ever since. She found me at the side of a road. I’d suffered concussion so to this day we’ve not figured out how I got there but apparently they think I was dumped. I prefer my version; I was on a gap year travelling the UK and I’d taken a minute to rest after fighting off a polar bear in the winter snow.
She kindly put me up for a couple of nights whilst we waited for my old owner to feel guilty and come back for me but turns out they never did. So because I wasn’t micro-chipped, I was full of worms, and I didn’t get on very well with the lead (I was a free spirit previously), she took pity on me and got me ‘trained up’. I’d just had a rough start and needed some gentle guidance. It worked out well. Every time I learned a new trick e.g. sit/ lie down/ play dead, I got a treat. Not the cheese I’d hoped for but I suppose the dog chocolates weren’t bad. Once I was trained I made a career for myself and even managed to bag my housemate a few interesting jobs too.
So it turned out I needed her that day she found me in the cold January frost but I don’t think she’d mind me letting on that she’s needed me equally as much since we became such good friends. There have been days when she’s been difficult to motivate to say the least. I’ve heard other humans plead with her that things aren’t that bad, things will get better, that she should get out of bed or off the sofa. For some reason when she’s this way out the only thing that will motivate her is me. I’m taking full credit for this one. I play the sympathy card when she’s down in the dumps and look at her and whine just to remind her there is a reason to get up and that she can be useful even when she thinks she’s no use to anyone. Whilst she starts off like a sloth, whenever I convince her to have a walk the dark cloud seems to lift slightly and the spring returns to her step gradually. Being responsible for me makes her realise she is important. Without her I couldn’t survive, and she tells me she’d struggle without me too. So it is true what they say. Us dog’s really are a (wo)mans best friend.
Jed (PAT dog and Rebecca Wint’s housemate)