Every dog deserves a best friend
My daughter will always be his mommy. And I will try to be his best friend.
One gift a person is never supposed to give, ever, is a pet. Not on Christmas, or for a birthday, or for Mother’s Day. It’s a no-no. We all know this. We’ve all seen the ads.
So imagine my disbelief when Michelle pitched up at my daughter’s birthday party with – you guessed it – a dog. And not just any dog, a pavement special.
Cross between a Great Dane and a Ridgeback. It was a pitch black, scrawny, pathetic little creature with long floppy ears and a distinct ridge on the back, with feet the size of cricket balls. Being a cat family – we live with five felines – I feared the worst.
Imagine the dog chasing one of my masters out into the street, or worse, biting one of them. But seeing as Charlie – that’s what I (we) named the little rascal – was still a puppy, I decided to let him loose in the house so that the cats could lay the ground rules.
After all, it is their house. Seven days, and he was house trained. One of the first lessons: Floor level is shared by all. Anything elevated is reserved for the masters. In dog terms: Stay off the bed and the couches, or else.
The cats very quickly realised that hissing and squealing was not the way to get the message across. Charlie thought it was roleplay and he lapped it up. But the moment Mathilda flashed a razor-sharp nail across his sloppy nose, he understood.
Running in the house and chasing another living creature was lesson two. This time Fluffy was the teacher. She completed two laps around a coffee table before sneaking in under the tablecloth.
From there she had the perfect vantage point to watch Charlie complete another 30-odd laps before realising he was chasing a phantom.
But he’s bright. And when he realised he had been duped, he didn’t hesitate to dive nose-first under the table. What can I say: Nail, nose, blood, lesson learnt.
The cats will always be the masters. My daughter will always be his mommy. And I will try to be his best friend.
After all, he doesn’t mind sharing his blanket with me when the bed is out of bounds.
Danie Toerien
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