So this is me, on Day One, the day I first met the Parents in my first home in Kirkintilloch. Not that I knew this at the time. It was a day like any other in my still-short life, hanging with the dachshund gang, being a pup. When the Parents turned up, I didn’t think anything of it. My pup-siblings had already left, which was strange, but there was such a big gang of us I wasn’t lonely. I was 17 weeks old by this stage and, my Mum says, the ‘breeder’ (I’m not sure what this means) (Ed: let’s keep it that way… ) had initially thought about keeping me.
And then the Parents turned up, just “for a look” they said. And they met me. Actually there were two of us – I was there with my little bud, who was a week younger, and the ‘breeder’ wanted to sell him. Only Mum clapped eyes on me. Now, looking back, there were some things that should have made her think twice about the wisdom of bringing a pup into the household. Like when I pooped on the floor right next to her, and scampered off casually. As you do when you’re 17 weeks old and a bit of a lad. Did she at this moment think of the rugs back home? The pristine woollen rugs that I would soon destroy? Apparently not. (Ed: isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing?)
And – and I still find this hard to contemplate – it almost didn’t happen as my Dad had his eye on the little bud, who was the cheekiest wee fella, and my Dad likes cheek, but Mum said something along the lines of, “I get enough of this at home already, thanks,” and that was the end of that. And then, after taking a few photos, the Parents upped and left. I waited the next day, thinking they were coming back. I waited the next week. I packed my bag, unpacked it and repacked it. It turned out that Mum was in a ‘quandary’ about having a pupster in a top floor flat. Could she cope with hiking up and down three flights of stairs six times a day? (Ed: no.) Could she cope with toilet-training without a garden? (Ed: categorically not.)
But then she saw sense and back they came. And off I went. And, I’m not going to lie, it was scary. I’d never been in a car. The Parents smelt strange and new. But then we came home, and I found the rug in
the my living room, and I peed on it. And then my home smelt of me. Which, when you’re a hound, is what it’s all about.