Dogs came late into my life. Although I wanted a dog for as long as I could remember, there were always reasons why I couldn’t have one. So I was well into my fourties when Ginger came along. She was my first dog and probably the easiest dog I will ever have. Since then, there have been Gilligan (still with me), Elliott, Maggie the First and now Maggie the Second.
I’ve probably gone about getting dogs in totally the wrong way. I don’t really give much thought to the breed. I get the dog that I connect with. With the exception of Gilligan who is an American Eskimo and Elliott who was a greyhound, they’ve been mutts so it’s kind of a crap shoot anyway.
Two have been puppies, Maggie the First and Maggie the Second. The others were all adults. I probably didn’t spend as much time with the puppies as I should because of work. But somehow they wound up housebroken and did very little damage, except for the basement doorframe which Maggie the Second tried to eat.
My training methods are hit and miss. My dogs know some basic commands most of the time. They still pull on the leash and if I let Maggie off-leash for a second, she’d be off like a shot on a small animal safari.
Still, Gilligan and Maggie are good dogs. They have a happy life I believe. I know it would be better if I could spend more time with them but in the meantime, they have each other for company. I know there are purists who would say I need to be home more. I need to train them more. I should feed them fresh chicken that I cook myself. But I can’t and I don’t.
And now we are going to get yet another puppy. This time from a breeder. A Golden. My husband’s dream dog. We won’t do much different with this one except take a week off from work to be with her when we first bring her home. We hope she will fit in well with the other two. I’m sure given time and some patience from us, she’ll be fine.
We may not have followed the rules with our dogs but they’ve all turned out OK. And for that I’m grateful.