After losing a dog people often say that they will never get another one. Here is my story.
Many years ago, my mom and I were involved with rescuing dogs. We were terrible. We would take one in with full intentions of re-homing it, but then decide that we could not pass it on to someone else, so we would keep it. The peak was when we reached 21 dogs!
Then my mom got married again and moved to Scotland, taking most of the dogs with her. Some stayed behind with me. One of these was Sid, a small, black Welsh Collie cross. He was really cute and really smart . After a while it became clear that we could not keep him, so we re-homed him with someone that was also involved with animal rescue. Seemed the ideal solution.
Then we moved house, along the coast to the next town. A week or so after arriving there I was riding my motor bike (this was before I became a dedicated cyclist) through the town and saw Sid walking along, all alone. I stopped and called him. It was a meeting of old friends. The Police Station was nearby so I locked my bike and took him there to report that I had found him and was taking him home. I called at the house where I had re-homed him but there was no sign of the owner and no one contacted the Police about him.
So we kept him for the next 10 years, until he was taken seriously ill and we decided to part with him - he was old and we do not agree with putting them through unnecessary treatment. I took him to the vets in the town we had previously lived in (about 6 miles away) in a taxi, stayed with him while he was put down and then walked back home. It was late evening - I could have taken a taxi again, or the train or a bus most of the way, but at times like that I like to walk. Sid was the last of the 21 dogs that my mom and I had owned years before. At that point I decided I did not want another dog. And life seemed to agree - we became very busy, moving house again, and it just seemed impossible to make the time for a dog again.
Time passed. The kids started asking about getting a dog. My eldest daughter wanted a West Highland White, and we were planning to get her one for her 18th birthday, but fate decided that she would not live to see that day. However, the thought had been planted and we came to thinking that having a dog might do us good as a family, but I still had my reservations. Slowly but surely the hunt for a new dog began, in local rescue centres and in the ads for breeders. Eventually we ended up, one spring morning, in a farm yard looking at a Golden Labrador and her 2 remaining puppies, and it was only now that I felt that I was really ready for another dog, 5 years after we had lost Sid.
As you will know from reading previous posts, we bought Custard and have not regretted it for a single moment.