This is going to be a dog post.
Here's my dog, Hector. He's the last survivor of our pack of three. He's simultaneously 9-ish years old and the baby of the family.
As a thin-skinned Whippet, he often needs pyjamas and blankets to cope with our colder times of year. So here he is, in his onesie and blanket, doing his best impersonation of Luke Skywalker in The Last Jedi.
I do love this photo, although it does show just how much of a grey-muzzle he has become. Signs of old age in my dogs make a bit of a lump in my throat, as our other dogs have sadly passed away from old age in recent times.
So looking forwards with excited anticipation, we are thinking about the next dog (a Labrador puppy of course, and while our son Frankie is still young enough to appreciate it all and participate fully) and so Hector may get a new companion before too long.
Hector was a rescue dog, found wandering the streets of one of our nearest cities. We often wonder what his origin story was, and we have vague hints of early trauma and abuse as Hector is reactive to men, and especially men carrying sticks.
Having said that, he is a very affectionate dog and often chooses men to bond with, and when he does, they are inseparable. The last decorator we had working in our house was adopted by Hector and he couldn't believe that Hector sometimes reacts to anyone.
Hector was rescued by a charity called Hope Rescue, and we found them to be very careful and diligent when homing rescued dogs into their 'forever home'. Hector had been rescued and fostered by a lovely couple who had other whippets, and spent a wonderful six months with them before he was certified as safe for permanent adoption by us. As we had a (young) son, knowing that Hector would be safe in the family was very important.
Although Pidge and Maisie were suspicious of the new dog for a while, Hector soon adopted Maisie as his hot water bottle and would curl up with her at night. Pidge would boss him and make sure that he knew his place, but Hector quickly found that he had fitted in, and for seven wonderful years he would not be separated from his dog family.
For me, coming to live in Wales all those years ago was all about dogs. Long dog walks deep into the forests, and contented snores by the fireplace upon returning home. I'm going to write more about my dogs in upcoming posts.
