Jamie

So first up let’s introduce the reprobates. I have two dogs - Beagles - a 7 year old girl, Holly who we’ve had from a puppy and a 10 year old rescue, Douglas. I’m currently working on adding a third but my husband might read this so shhh…

I've given this topic a lot of thought recently for several reasons; Mainly - one of my dogs, we lovingly refer to as 'sick note' so I'm treading that fine line of being optimistic and realistic but it highlights to me how much he fills my life. As if I didn't already know!

How on earth do I explain how important they are? I may as well explain how important is food and water to me?! But then when I stop and think I guess it really isn't that obvious is it. And just like childlessness, people are quick to offer their uneducated opinions on the topic - ‘they’re just pets’ sits right up there with the likes of ‘stop stressing and it will happen’ yada yada yada.

Just like the disenfranchised grief many of us feel - those who don't 'get it' it probably think it seems over the top, it's certainly not going to be recognised how much I will miss them and you just can't explain to someone who doesn't already know how much they look after you. If you know, you know!

It is not a one way street with my dogs, sure I feed them, walk them, take them to the vets and all that jazz. But there is so much emotional attention that goes both ways in bucket loads. They've sat on the floor or the bed with me after every devastating appointment I've been to. They've curled up into little furry hot water bottles when I've been cold with grief. They know I'm upset before I do and they become my little protectors.

They've never needed me to find the words I so often struggle to find to explain how I'm feeling; they genuinely just know. If I need to put on some comfy shoes and walk until I can breathe again, they plod along next to me. If I need to run until I can't remember what I'm running from, they will match me step for step. If I need to pull the duvet over my head and sit on the sofa and cry they will silently sit there with me with a well placed paw or nose.

They never tell me to get over it, or it will get better, or I need time. They just live through it with me.

Doug came to us around about the time I think I was starting to question if I’d ever be blessed with motherhood. He was surrendered by his previous family as they had had a baby and could no longer cope with the dog. Same old story! But the irony didn’t hit me until a few years later. We were meant to be thrown together and our negative experiences, both bookmarked by the pitter patter of tiny feet, just bonded us even more. I needed him to rescue me as much as he needed to be rescued.

We have developed a motto over the years that if our dogs can't come with us then it's a thank you but no. We've bought a caravan so we can always holiday and explore with them. Work is planned around them not being alone too long. We chose our cars around them being comfortable and safe. They're our family and our whole life completely revolves around them. They make bloody good pub dogs too…

I don’t say they're the children I never had - I completely understand for some people that will be so and I love that. But for me I think I have to separate it. They are my fur-babies. They are my complete reason for existing some days, they are part of my heart and I love them as much as I've ever loved another living being.

Even when they stink of fox poo, have eaten a sock or have had me awake all night throwing up on the new carpet... but that's how true love works right?!