It's a dog's life

A hidden insight into vulnerability

Weathering our seasons

Our beloved springer spaniel, Fizz, died in December 2021 after a long and active life, filled with mud, food and love. Over the years that we had her, we saw her mature from a playful, boisterous young adult in the springtime of her life (she was a rescue so we didn’t have her as a puppy), to a darling old woman with failed hearing and eyesight, descending into ‘doggy dementia’ in the months before she died. It gave me such fascinating insight into ageing and the ravages of the body, as well as the emotional needs that come with vulnerability of the winter years.

Fizz began to follow us from room to room, always wanting to be by her hooman. If we let her off the lead on a walk, she would happily trot around, then become confused and latch onto the first human she saw, following at their heels, intuiting that they represented security, regardless of who they were. So we kept her closer, and loved her even more. We made her feel safe, just as she deserved.

Strength by my side

One night a few years prior, I was home alone with my two young daughters - which was often the case with my hubby being a shift worker. At around 3am, I was woken by my eldest, who was about ten years old, shaking me and saying ‘mummy there’s someone outside’. I woke instantly to hear something smash against the downstairs window. I crept downstairs in my simultaneously bleary yet highly alert state, to see a man with a puffa jacket and a woolly beanie trying to get in the door.

For a moment I thought it must be my husband coming home having forgotten his key, so I opened the door ever so slightly...and then I saw the man’s eyes. This was not my husband. This was a stranger, with wild and scary eyes, trying to get into my home.

I slammed the door in his face, turned the lights off, shouted at my daughter to get upstairs and out of sight. She was too young to have a mobile to call for help. The man’s arm came in the top window which had been left open a crack so that the outdoor Christmas fairy lights could be plugged in.

As he reached down for the big window latch, his feet climbing up the glass, I pushed his arm out, closed the window and faced him, eye to eye through the glass. Defiant, protective. With my young daughters upstairs, my mode was most definitely fight.

Photo by Geranimo on Unsplash

When my senses opened up slightly from the immediacy of the moment, I became aware that my lovely gentle Fizz was standing by my side, barking and hissing in a way I had never before heard. Her eyes were also glaring into his, and she was on red alert. Teeth bared, snarling, hair standing up making herself as big as she could be. She stood my ground with me, we held our territory together, protecting the babies.

This is OUR home. You are not welcome here.

With her by my side I was filled with strength and had no fear. Eventually the stranger gave up..and left.

She made me us safe, loved and protected, and as she increasingly carried the weight of her own vulnerability we did everything we could to make her feel the same. The day she left us, it was a tough goodbye.

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A houseful of joy

Having decided not to get another dog straight away, I have recently started dog sitting and boarding to supplement my writing income, and what an utter joy it has been. I was pretty much instantly fully booked, which made me wonder if ‘perhaps I’m too cheap?!’ but what it actually means is that I’m affordable, and I’m getting the most gorgeous dogs, as well as surprising and poignant life lessons.

Boys will be boys

My first house guests were a couple of Black Labrador boys. Having sized each other up, they remembered that they were soft marshmallows of dogs and seeming to sense they were somehow related, settled into a day of mutual bum sniffing, walking and playful yet slightly wary camaraderie.

Boys and food. #justsaying

That evening just as the boys had settled into bed a gorgeous Border Collie girl came, and predictably glorious chaos ensued as the boys followed her around relentlessly, only to finally be distracted by sausages. A comedy half hour of herding: ‘over here’, ‘yes over here’, ‘sit down’, ‘lie’, ‘into bed’, 'not not that bed’, ‘leave it’, ‘settle down’, ‘gently’, ‘leave her alone’, ‘out of that bed’, ‘yes you’, … The girl all but rolling her eyes knowingly until they got bored, then taking herself off to the prime spot whilst they trailed in her wake.

The young and the old

A few days later, with the labradors gone and the collie still with us, a gentle elderly rescue dog came to stay. Just like our beloved Fizz she was also mostly deaf, with dementia, not able to walk far, and just needed to be with people.

I have not experienced this kind of illness with the humans close to me, although I know so many have, but it has been so interesting to observe with our furry friends. With one girl at the peak of her energy, and another at the valley of hers, seeing how they cared for and interacted with each other was just beautiful. Respecting each other’s space, not eating the other’s food, swapping beds, staying close, innately sensing the other’s needs.

When the elderly dog woke in the morning she would bark to go out, which was wonderful - our beloved Fizz no longer knew to bark, or to ‘sit’ for the toilet - and then she woofed for company. All she wanted was me in the same room. Reverting to primal needs in those states of vulnerability, just like humans. Whether a newborn, whose brain is just starting to fuse, or an adult whose connections have begun to break down. When it was just her and I in the house, she would stand on my feet, comforted simply by the contact.

It makes me reflect on how I worry about my 82 year old mum when she travels across London 2 hours each way to have lunch with her relative with dementia. Sometimes mum comes home knowing that perhaps her sister probably doesn’t even remember her being there, but the dogs have taught me that regardless of whether my aunt remembers, she will have known that she had company in that moment, and perhaps will have felt safe, connected and comforted, and that is beautiful.

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Redheaded girls

The following week brought us a gorgeous Red Setter who won all of our hearts, although she remained wary of my husband. Gentle and dog-loving as he is, her owners told us that they think she had perhaps been ‘firmly’ treated by a previous male owner, and she carried that wariness with her. She particularly gravitated to my daughters - the two redheads becoming an extension of each other.

It takes time to build trust, and just as in human relationships, love and cuddles goes a long long way.

When I was growing up our own gorgeous family dog was found drowning in the Thames, and we rescued her and kept her to the end of her life. She was so soft and gentle, but would not go near red-headed men - she was terrified of them and we felt sure this was a marker of her past. In having other dogs, I’ve become so aware of how their experiences and stage of life imprint upon their behaviour.

It sounds so obvious with regard to what we know about humans, and nature/nurture, but this is teaching me in so many more nuanced ways.

Don’t judge a book by its cover

This week I have a Shih Tzu - basically a furry breathing cushion, who has clearly selected my husband as his number one. It’s hilarious. Their pairing is quite incongruous but hubby is putty in the little one’s hands. Talk about don’t judge a book by its cover!! This one knows where his bread is buttered, and my husband (who has previously been a bit dismissive of ‘toy’ dogs) is utterly smitten.

Later this week I have a miniature Daschund coming, followed by a French Bulldog, a lurcher and another lab. I cannot wait to embrace what comes next.

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Do you have animals in your house?

Do you find that you learn from their behaviour and ways of being?

I’d love to hear.

Love & lemons 🍋💕

Em x