‘She’s pregnant. Did I not tell you?’
The decision to have Wilbur came almost naturally as if he had been waiting to arrive into our lives. Despite that feeling, I thought long and hard about whether it was the right time and what the impact might be and if I could weave his care in and around developing my business. Oh, and not to forget the training.
I had researched having a support dog, training a dog to become a therapy dog. Looked at the criteria for assessment, approached various charities in pursuit of knowledge and the best way forward. Five years into the consideration phase it appeared that I had just said ‘YES’ to this little puppy. Oh, my, goodness. I had said yes!’ Action Stations! No going back.
As I had agreed to my new four legged life taking up residence in our home, the UK had gone into lockdown and the charity I was hoping would support us, closed. More about that in another blog perhaps.
The choosing of which puppy is a process I hadn’t considered would be as odd as it turned out to be.
I couldn’t go to visit the puppies so instead had to select the puppy from photos and videos the breeder sent us. This was an instant choice on my part and in fact the rest of my family. Without telling them I asked them to choose which puppy they felt should muck along with us all. Everyone chose the same pup so there was no denying this little wriggling, pooing, peeing, eating machine was going to come to us when he was ready in a few weeks.
Wilbur was a tiny bundle of wisdom, intrigue, energy and curiosity. From day one I knew he would need attention and working. He was quick to learn and his memory was staggering from day one.