If you had told me five years ago that I would have a dog one day, I would have advised you to visit your shrink straightaway.
But life has this funny habit of making you eat your words, that’s why we should never say never.
Anyway, three years ago, I bought my daughter a Westie after much deliberation to help her get over a rough patch.
Enter Becka. An adorable piece of white fluff with a ton of attitude and a huge loving heart.
I have to admit it was difficult at first. The little lady thought the whole flat was her toilet and I followed her with my mop everywhere. Of course, she thought it was a game and she bit it while I mopped. I wished somebody had recorded that, we did look like a cartoon animation.
I’m ashamed to say I said ‘It’s either the dog or me’ on those early days. More than once…
However, I can’t imagine life without her anymore. I love her to bits and I love the fact that she follows me wherever I go.
Her little black eyes speak volumes and the wagging of her tail when you offer her a treat is a delight.
She’s the perfect dog. She never barks (except when we bring her to the countryside) and she likes everybody.
Most important of all is that she makes my children happy. Even my eldest son, who got extremely angry the day we brought her home (he’s not a dog person), has got attached to her.
And my little one? Well, that one is a worrier and, even though his sister will not be leaving home till she finishes her degree, he’s already wondering how he’ll survive without Becka. I guess I’ll have to buy him another dog…