The Dog Who Healed My Heart

“You’re lucky dear, you’re the first to call. You’ll get the pick of the litter.” And just like that, the decision was made — I was going to be a dog-mum.

It was the mid-2000s and being in my late twenties, I was terribly broody for human babies. My boyfriend at the time was four years younger than me, and not yet ready to settle down and become a father.

I’d taken to volunteering at the local pet rehoming center and had a part-time job at a kennels. I needed to be around animals as often as possible. Human babies were too close to home — too raw and painful to be around.

I’d lost a baby three years earlier, but the hormones had never returned to normal. I longed for a baby. So much so, there was an emotional ache that would sometimes take my breath away. For now, human babies would have to wait.

I transferred all my mothering instincts into wanting a dog. Don’t judge. I didn’t take this decision lightly. I’d read all the books on dog breeds and training needs — I was ready.

The breeder of the litter of puppies was a real Dame. She was an elderly lady, as strong as an ox, living alone in a huge country mansion in the countryside. She spoke with a plum in her mouth, but…