This week marks the anniversary of our acquiring Hermione. It’s certainly been an interesting year with our new arrival and moving from lock-down back to something resembling normal life. Hermione, of course, has been unaffected by world events. This is one of the main advantages of being a dog. So this post will be about all things doggy – her impact on our lives and how our little furry companions have much to teach us.
Early days
I would be a terrible liar if I were to suggest that obtaining a puppy is a rational or even sensible thing to do. There is a reason that they are this cute. It’s so that you don’t drop them back off at the breeders and run away as fast as you can 24 hours after you have purchased them. Puppies are like small babies, but squirmier and without the advantage of nappies.
The first weeks of ownership were a constant round of cleaning the floors and rushing to get her outside. At one point (and Jeff was the star here) we were taking her every fifteen minutes to half an hour. It paid off, because in a matter of weeks, we could walk barefoot on the wooden floors again without being in danger of standing in a puddle or worse.
The hyperactive child
Another significant difference between puppies and babies is that they come fully mobile. She would catapult around the garden and dig as many holes as she could before being caught and pulled away. In addition, she had an unfortunate habit of having spurts of even greater hyperactivity, rushing around in circles before rushing up and lunging her very sharp puppy teeth in your leg. This was a little distressing both from the point of pain and the fact you had been attacked by something as innocuous looking as a Furby.
Fortunately this phased passed, though not her desire to make the garden look like the Somme. We’re still working on that one.
Teething
As Hermione matured and her adult teeth came though, we both sighed with relief. Teething for dogs, like babies, gives them the urge to chew and for dogs that means blankets, your clothes, shoes and if you let them, the furniture. We escaped from the horrors of the last on my list (though I have friends who were not so lucky) and my sewing skills extended to repairing the bite-size rips and holes her tiny teeth had made.
Teething over, we were on to greater things.
Bedtimes
We decided to keep Hermione in a crate at night – not least because she sheds a great deal and spends most of her days covered in mud. And did I mention that dogs are squirmy?
Needless to say, Hermione was not best amused at being left downstairs in the evening, so we adopted the same strategy as we used with the children. We told her bedtime stories and sang lullabies. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but it worked perfectly. The soothing sound of our voices calmed her and sent her off to sleep almost immediately. It also served as a good wind-down for us before bed too. Bedtimes stories, whether they be from a book, Kindle or voice are all excellent ways to prepare us for entry into dreamland.
Finding a routine
A little unfortunately for us, Hermione contains quite a lot of working Cocker, so in addition to added intelligence (read capacity for mischief) she needs a fairly huge amount of exercise, which she does not like to do alone. Fortunately, we have quite a large garden and much of the winter was spent supervising her there from the shed or from the muddy and rather windswept puppy park. This all worked fine while Jeff was on furlough or mainly working from home, but now he’s returned full-time, it’s back to mainly single parenting.
I’m working on a new schedule with a half hour walk with Jeff before work, an hour or so in the garden with me, an hour at the puppy park and a final walk with Jeff in the evening. So if I look a little wan the next time we meet, you’ll know why.
The puppy park is a wonderful place though and a great addition to the day. It is full of boisterous dogs and friendly owners. It is a sociable activity, which makes the obligation of another exercise a pleasure rather than a chore.
All grown up
Hermione, though still rather small, is now fully grown. Her puppylike disposition remains and I suspect will until she is quite advanced in age. She still digs holes, upturns flower pots to eat the plastic pots within and whirls like a dervish around the lawn.
Clearly, she is hard work, yet if she has taught me anything, it is not to shy away from obligations. There have been plenty times – especially on days I am not so well – that I am less than thrilled at the prospect of heading out into the cold and rain to entertain her. Last week was a classic example. Despite a certain amount of optimism on my part, the weather was not going to get any better. A light drizzle didn’t seem too much of a deterrent, but as we arrived at the park, the heavens opened and the rain tumbled down. There was no way she as going home, so we hunkered down under the trees and played ball. It was magical. Once I accepted my fate, I came to enjoy it. The tympany of rain on the leaves; the childlike joy of finding shelter and in having a huge expanse of space all to oneself.
We arrived home wet and tired, but not disappointed we had persevered.
A dog’s loyalty and forgiving nature is well documented and, in all my experience, true. What is less commented on is a dog’s joie de vivre. No sooner are they awake than their tales are wagging. Meeting up again after a night’s rest is a great reunion full of joy. In a world where misery rather than its counterpart is focused upon, such exuberance provides a very necessary balance.
Dogs live, as we should, absolutely in the moment. All my hours of meditation, reading and thinking have barely brought me within an inch of Hermione’s ability to do that. When I answered the door to the delivery man the other day and she greeted him as a long, lost companion, we both agreed: If we hope to make a better world, we should be more dog.
