Once you fall in love with dogs it’s emotionally challenging to ever be without one. When I was 13, I delivered the Herald paper each morning, it was an early start and lonely ride around streets at 6am to bring news to the people. One morning I was joined by an unlikely companion, a young golden labrador who was wandering the streets near my house. He followed me while I did my work and then all the way home.
Unsure who he belonged to, or where he lived, I left the detail stuff to mum while I played with my new friend. It wasn’t long before his owner was found. Biggles was his name, he lived around the corner from home. His owner traveled a lot for work and feeling how much I loved Biggles and how much he loved being with me, she asked if I wanted to care for him when she traveled, it was the best job ever, I got paid to hang out with Biggles.
From then on the seed was sown, my love of dogs was cemented but I had to give Biggles back each time his owner came home. I wanted a dog of my own. Fast forward a few years, along came Max, a 8 week old Rottweiler puppy who had a pretty average start to life, and despite mums repeated chant “you have to take him back” he became her dog more than mine. Max was with us for 10 years 6 months before he lost the battle to evil cancer.
Pictures top: Biggles (Biggles mum dressed him in dive gear)
Let to right: Biggles, Max as a puppy, Max
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