Lying next to me is a very small dog. Her hind legs remind me of chicken wings, her paws are like those of teddy bears; made up of three lines of brown thread. Her ears are folded over her furry face like Toblerone triangles and when she sleeps her face looks like a seal pup.
‘She looks just like a seal with her whiskers and wet nose.’ I say as I hold the tiny sleeping thing on my knees.
‘Are whale babies called pups as well?’
‘No. Whale calves. I guess they do look more like baby cows.’ I watch over her as she twitches and fidgets through her very active REM cycle. Suddenly she’s scrabbling like she’s chasing a scent over faraway fields. She was bred for hunting vermin and came from working dog stock from the Lake District. Her breed temperament is fearless, tenacious and stubborn; unlike normal dogs she was bred to work alone, so is quite happy left to her own devices. But as a puppy she clings to warmth and comfort, and cries if you go out of her line of sight for too long. Just like a baby.
In one week she has gained a third of her body weight. This is good news because she is filling out to be more like a terrier and less like a teddy bear. For the first week when there were rainstorms and sleet, she shivered at my feet in the garden as I forced her to go for a whizz. Now she associates the outdoors with something cold and terrible, when really it is her natural habitat. At first, she was too small to climb the wooden step up to the lawn, so A helpfully placed a brick for her to use as a step. The next day I found a cat had shat directly on top of the brick, so I had to hose it down and move it back to where it was less conspicuous. Today ROLO can bounce and clear the jump up to the lawn without the help of us or anything. To witness such an increase in ability is incredible.
I also think her eyesight, or could it be her spatial awareness – was pretty poor when she arrived at our house. She was likely afraid and felt less confident to roam (not like now one week on when she’s sniffing out every corner and boldly marching up to the front door) and so, her world was much smaller then, comprised of a crate, food bowl, and the treacherous outdoor toilet.
As her world has expanded there is a door at the end of the kitchen leading into the utility room which has remained shut. Primarily because it contained mops and buckets and bleach and washing up liquids. But from behind that door comes the growls and gurgling of washers and toilet flushes, and the strange smell of paints and solvents, a bag of fresh compost and her all-time favourite toy: dustpan and brush. The tiny dog waits at the end of the kitchen, with her head cocked to one side contemplating the secret room. Wondering what mysteries are in there and what the monster is that spins and shudders all night long.
