“Erm… it’s not going to be this big is it?”
I never liked dogs as a kid. To me, they were smelly, noisy, hairy and took up too much of your time for not much in return. When my brothers in their youth proposed the idea of getting a dog to my parents, I was quick to shoot the whole idea down.
For almost 28 years, I have lived a dog-free existence. I have left books on the floor, electronic devices on low tables and assorted items of clothing wherever I want.
That is about to change.
After resisting for several years, my girlfriend Helen (avid dog lover) has persuaded me to get a puppy (half Newfoundland Poddle (I am not calling it a Newfypoo) and half Old English Sheepdog).
It was no mean feat. I demanded the following:
a) A full breakdown of costs (one time and monthly) for the dog to make sure SHE could afford it (This was then sent to dog-savvy friends for verification).
b) A guarantee that I would not have to:
- walk the dog early in the morning
- pick up dog poo
- pay for anything (unless I wanted to)
- feed her
- essentially do anything unless I wanted to
c) Any mess and breakages would be cleaned up/replaced by her
d) I get to pick the name
All of the above was agreed to and here we are – 48 hours from getting a puppy… and I still haven’t decided on a name.
So what’s the point in this little site? Well, I see it as an experiment – whether I, Timon Singh, long time member of the “I don’t care about dogs and their stupid furry faces” club can, over time, learn to appreciate them.
It will also chart the almost guaranteed disasters, fights, breakages and hopefully the feelings of warmth and ownership I am assured will follow.
It might even be cathartic.
However right now, the only feeling I have is one of deep foreboding.