Today is PosyDog’s birthday. As the title would suggest, my furchild is three. Hiphiphooray!
Mr Posy’s work colleague told him we should just hurry up and have human children. I can’t imagine why.
PosyDog came into our lives at a very sad time. Our previous dog (an Australian Silky Terrier) had a penchant for frogs, and an even bigger weakness for toads. We thought after the first toad (and an emergency trip to the Vet), she’d have learnt her lesson, but months later she went back for a second cane toad, and she died in my arms. She was five. I was distraught. Heartbroken. I didn’t think anything would fill the void in my heart.
A few days later Mr Posy told me that he’d been in contact with breeders all over Australia, looking for a West Highland Terrier puppy (we wanted another Terrier, but not a silky – my girl was one of a kind) that was available then and there, and he’d done it – he’d found our new puppy. PosyDog (then, really, PosyPuppy) joined our family a week later. My heart still ached for my silky, but the puppy-cuddles helped.
PosyDog has had a rough three years. She wasn’t even six months old when she broke her leg and had surgery to have a pin inserted. Not long after her third cast was removed, her allergies started. She was allergic to herself. Her Vet tried pills and sprays and dietary changes, and when that didn’t help, they took blood to determine exactly what else she was allergic to (the list is a mile long), so that they could send away for allergy treatment. This meant injections every day, then every second day, then every third day and so on and so on, until we found ourselves finally at monthly visits for allergy needles – with the odd visit thrown in part way through the month for stomach problems, or ear infections. Surprisingly, she loves visiting the Vet.
She came to me at a time when I didn’t feel I could love another pet again. She wiggled her way into my heart. I can’t believe that today she is three. Happy Birthday, PosyDog – I love you.