The Rescue Home. My Current Home.

8.30 AM. The dawn chorus begins signalling the arrival of the Kind Lady and breakfast. I’ve not been here as long as some but I’ve worked out that there is an order to the proceedings, so I lay and wait patiently. Nobby, my room mate, a middle-aged, overweight boxer with a slobbering problem which surely requires urgent medical attention, paces the front of the kennel.

Our breakfast arrives. I munch as fast as I can; gulping down the offering, choking on un-chewed morsels. But my adversary is a seasoned pro; Nobby makes short work of his meal before shoving me aside and finishing mine. I retreat to my corner and curl up into a protective ball.

A couple of hours pass. Elvis, a lanky Lurcher, his kennel closest to the yard gate, alerts us to the arrival of a Visitor. A possible Adoptee. I watch intensely as the Visitor peruses past each kennel one by one, each occupier doing their best to impress; Elvis howling at the top of voice, Rex, the German Shepherd, standing erect demonstrating his guard dog capabilities and Sez, the pure bred Staffy opting for rolling around on her back, legs akimbo in an outrageous flirtatious manner.

Competition is tough.

He reaches our Kennel. I start towards the front but am flattened by 6 stone of slobbering fur.

The Visitor peers through the wired front.

“I want a puppy” He declares.

That’s Nobby out of contention. I’m not exactly a buddle of newborn fluff and joy, but at 5 months I can still look pretty cute. I crawl out from underneath Nobby and stare longingly into the Visitors eyes. Under my spell now, unable to resist; pay the woman, sign the paperwork and let’s gets back to your house.

Nobby sneezes and follows with a vigorous head shake, sending snot and slobber flying in all directions, spraying the kennel wall, the Visitor and me. I try to maintain the Visitors gaze with puppy-dog eyes, but with dog spittle dripping from my brow, it’s a futile attempt and less than effective.

“A PEDIGREE puppy” He snarls.

Yea? Well I want a warm home, a large bone and small head; but we learn to roll with the punches. Deal with it.

He moves on. 20 minutes later he leaves with one of the Doberman Pup Quadruples. He’s the third this week. I just hope he realises that she’s going to grow up to be a lot bigger than even his ego.

It’s getting dark. It’s early February and there is a chill every night. I hate this time of day. I awake each morning with hope and aspiration. Optimistic that I will be able eat all my food before Nobby muscles in, that one day I will actually catch my tail whilst chasing it and that maybe someone will give me a home. But now as the night draws in, and nothing has changed, it’s hard.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s not bad here. I’m well looked after; I’m fed and receive all the medical attention that I need. Even Nobby has his good points. I’m just homesick.

Homesick for a home I have yet to find.