Apple of my eye. Looking after a border collie is a mixed blessing.
Back in January I wrote an article called “How looking after a border collie gives me purpose”
Maybe I was misty eyed at the young pup — everyone agreed she was adorable and she walked through the town getting fuss from every passer by. I was like a proud parent. Today I walked past a couple of girls and one of them said “aw look at that puppy” and the other one said “that’s not a puppy; that dog’s old”. I know a dog is for life, and not just for christmas. I was well aware of the responsibilities of dog ownership when we set eyes on the little fluff baby in my now wife’s auntie’s kitchen. And I don’t want to seem like I’m jaded, but the realities of looking after a dog are much more all encompassing than the uninitiated realise. Cue dog lovers rolling their eyes. Roll over eyeball. My eyes are watering, or one of them is, because my dog just kicked me in the oculus. There aren’t much more tender places. Bizzy has taken her out for a walk now and I’m pleased to have a bit of peace. I’d had to put everything back in the bin and tie a ripped binbag and take it out earlier because we were foolish enough to leaver her in the kitchen for a minute with meat wrappers in the bin. Dog training doesn’t start til tomorrow, and I’m supposed to be meeting somebody but Bizzy isn’t sure she can walk all that way and make it into town with her pain condition.
Looking after a dog is demanding at the best time (though of course, it is also deeply rewarding, this is an amendment not a retraction), but looking after a dog when you’re in precarious remission from an enduring and debilitating mental health condition is super demanding. When Bizzy said if it wasn’t for having the joy of looking after Molly her labrador she wouldn’t have got up some days, I saw this as an absolute advantage. What the reality is, is some days you really just don’t want to get up, but you have to force yourself up to let the dog out, even when you’re short of sleep or in a shitty mood or just shrouded in a general malaise despite these probably being the best days of your life. My life. I am living my best days. I am just married last january and I still bring to mind regularly the smiling face of my bride at the alter, or her lovely sillohette in the church doorway as she arrived. Every day I have company and we have our little dog we look after. And it is great. But what I’m trying to say is it isn’t easy or a picnic. But I enjoyed walking her today while Bizzy was doing the shopping. I enjoy throwing the ball for her (but not as much as Bizzy does) and yes we get annoyed with her when she wrecks things we’ve lovingly made, or gets in the bins, but she’s a good girl and a good companion and we wouldn’t be without her. Now we’ve had her over half a year I understand these paradoxical things parents of actual humans say, as well as the final inevitable sentence — but I wouldn’t change her for the world.
