Two Years

Two years ago my baby boy was two.  He spent much of his time pretending to be a dog.   So we got him a four legged friend; a purebred retired show dog named Riddick.  Riddick, the smooth fox terrier, was named after a Vin Diesel movie character, and he had plenty of character himself.   He needed a home and we needed a dog to adopt.

I had always intended my crew of kids to have pets for their childhood years, a lot of that came out of my being raised on a farm that bustled with animals of all kinds.

An ad was put up, online, introducing our family of six and how we desired to adopt an older dog.  The replies came pouring in, most wanting a large sum and much fussing for ‘fancy mutts’.  Riddick’s owner got my attention by encouraging me let her meet us.  I had seen her ad and assumed he was out of our league and told her so.  She said to let her figure that out after our meeting.

I assume she was as smitten with us as we were with Riddick that first October night we meet him.  She let us have him.  We rushed out to get doggy beds, food, crates and more.  Our ‘getting to know you’ phase began.  We had a wobbly start with episodes such as the dog climbing on to my kitchen counters, or my kids forgetting to walk him, or my youngest bopping Riddick on the nose as they duked out the pecking order around here.  My boy won that fight and Riddick mellowed out.

The learning curve, all the work involved, was work it.  We adore his quieter demeanour, as well as his ability to be both crazy fun to play with but a total pussy cat, as far as relaxing, when in the house.  He has become OUR DOG over the course of two years.

Always Lady Mac an Rothaich

TTFN