Firstly, apologies if you don’t like dogs. Secondly, why wouldn’t you like dogs?!
My Bandit came to me on Mother’s Day 2008, two years into my infertility journey.
Mother’s Day is generally a fairly difficult day for me – not only am I confronted with what I so obviously lack, but I am also reminded of what a ‘reward’, ‘blessing’, ‘inheritance’, ‘gift’ and so on children are. And of course they are, there’s no denying it, but it always makes me think that I haven’t worked, prayed, or fought hard enough to deserve such a great reward. And then I think of all the jerks who abuse their kids and the logic gets all screwed up again.
So anyway in May 2008 I received my first and only Mother’s Day present. Mr Lady Breaks pulled a lot of strings to find me the dog of my dreams – a French Bulldog – for a (somewhat) affordable price. Bandit basically lived on my lap for the first few months, whether I was at driving, working, or watching lectures at uni, which was exactly what I needed. Of course then he grew too big and slobbery for lecture theatres, but he’s never grown out of wanting to be constantly by my side, drooling all over me.
Bandit came and helped heal a gaping and growing hole. No, he’s not a baby, and never will be, but he is a loyal, kind and loving distraction. He is an endless pit of love, slobber, farts and strange yodelling noises who keeps me company every day. He is naughty, loud, allergic and a little OCD, but he is also something to love and care for, and he is a lot of fun.