I had taken my daughter and her partner’s dog Paddy out for walks many times, and he’d stayed with us periodically if they were on holiday – an arrangement that suited all of us. His doting owners could enjoy rare time away from home without concern, and I could indulge in being a very part-time dog guardian, safe in the knowledge that the commitment was short lived. When unavoidable circumstances meant that Paddy’s owners had to spend a lengthy time away from home, of course, I stepped in to help and discovered what it means to become a full-time dog owner – not so much a learning curve but a voyage of discovery and swift adjustment. 

The first thing to go was a sense of freedom. There’s no avoiding the fact that as a dog owner, you must prioritise your dog’s needs and plan accordingly. Any time spent away from home had to include a strategy to ensure that Paddy was not left too long on his own and that he had had a good, long walk prior to departure to tire him out so he didn’t fret. Due to my husband’s workload, the vast majority of walking duties have fallen to me. Despite being over nine years old, Paddy looks and behaves like a much younger dog and is a ball of energy, so requires a lot of free running as well as lead walks. I never realised how much time dog owners spend on walking their charges and am not quite sure what I did with that time before Paddy came to stay. Whatever it was, it’s not getting done at the moment. Rain or shine I can be found steadfastly pacing the circular walks of Rutland, keeping a constant eye on the distant white ball of fur blasting blissfully through muddy puddles, diving into hedgerows and digging holes in verges using his snout instead of his paws in an unorthodox and entirely manic manner. I’ve identified areas with no livestock and stick to times when I’m sure we are unlikely to encounter too many other walkers, so that Paddy can run to his heart’s content. 

As a medium-sized, predominantly white dog with a love of rolling in unmentionable matter, he frequently requires a post-walk shower and blow dry – sometimes just his legs and undercarriage and sometimes his whole body. White dogs and muddy walks are a difficult combination, which, in winter time, needs action to prevent complete home wrecking. I’ve increased my floor mopping from once or twice a week to four or five and I’ve succumbed to early rising to accommodate a pre-work walk, but at least it means I get to bed early as I’m always tired from all the fresh air. We now have ‘dog towels’, ‘sofa covers’ comprising old blankets to protect the upholstery. All my jacket pockets are filled with dog treats and three dog beds are dotted around the house. My resolute determination that ‘the dog will never go upstairs’ and ‘the dog will never, ever go on the beds’, of course, has gone by the by, and I frequently wake up with a little furry head next to mine on the pillow. 

If all of this sounds negative, I should add that Paddy came to stay at a time when I badly needed motivation to move regularly after spinal surgery, and many happy hours walking in  beautiful countryside have allowed me time with my own thoughts after a difficult year. I look forward to coming home from work at lunchtime to a rapturous welcome and I’m never alone, as I have my little buddy nearby at all times when I’m cooking, cleaning or working from home. Paddy is adorable, funny, loyal, affectionate and as good as gold. For all his chaos, he has brought fun and focus, he’s stopped me being quite so unnecessarily houseproud and he has given us his heart with unswerving devotion. When he goes home, I shall miss him with all of mine.  

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