Oscar is the boy

Taking on a dog is no simple task.Saying I want a dog sounds easy enough but after the wanting comes the need for structure and responsibility.  Making a choice of breed, puppy or full-grown? Pedigree or cross? Rescue or breeder.  I have had a few dogs over the years but my first encounter was as a child.

My mother loved animals all kind of strays would somehow end up in our house. Never less than two dogs and 2 cats, rabbits and birds. Once she brought home a magpie she had found flying down to people outside on the street. Sensing it was lost she brought it in and taught it to speak. Although she had this menagerie, care was random. Dogs watched, following her every move until she’d create a pan of food made up of left over. Maŕrow bone gravy, pilchards and Oates which cats and dogs alike scoffed each evening. Sometimes the smell of that mixture made my mouth water because of my constant hunger. It was generally something with chips for us humans.

Now I have Oscar, who I suspect will be my last dog, probably out living me. It’s written that Pugs can live for fifteen years. A thousand-year old breed specially adapted as a lap dog.

He is a black pug so tends to attract attention. A character in every sense of the word. Facial expression which is a permanent questioning look. What?

He snuggles which is more about food than love and when I am standing around maybe passing time of day with someone,he sits either between my ankles or  on my feet. Looking upwards patiently waiting for the conversation to end.

In the past my dogs have generally been rescue but for one other. Oscar  however cost so much I am too embarrassed to say. He is treasured not because of that but because of who he is. Funny, annoying too. Lovable and often serious and thoughtful. He ponders on life a lot. I like that.

Author: juneyhh

I am a retired psychotherapist of 20 years working in the north of England up to my retirement in 2010 mainly because I remarried and thought at that time it was the right thing to do. Retrospectively giving up on work felt like giving up on life as I knew it. Realising since that one doesn't have to give up on something in order to build something new. Now nine years on, divorced and having moved to Cornwall Iwonder what it was all about. It's harder to start a fresh at 70, not impossible but harder.

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