One of the hardest things I’ve had to do is leave behind my beloved children – and that includes Scruffy the Wonder Dog.
I agonised for a few weeks on what to do. Customs aren’t too bad as far as bringing dogs and cats back and forth between Australia and New Zealand but the logistics of shifting him seemed impossible. Not only would the cost be more than we could afford but we had no idea where we would be living and if we would be able to have pets.
After much discussion with family, Scruffy got lucky. An old family friend said she’d take him on trial. And trial it would be for all involved. He’s an excitable little fellow with either (a)bladder issues (b)respect issues (c)attention deficit disorder or (d) all of the above.
It was so hard to say goodbye to the little ragamuffin we’d had for five years. We acquired Scruffy at six months old and he’d been the youngest of four dogs at his previous place. The pecking order had definitely given him some unique quirks and peeing on everything was just one.
He wouldn’t eat in front of you or even out of your hand. Apparently, this is good pack behaviour, recognising your place as Top Dog and hence not making a move towards food until you’ve turned your back and shown you’re not interested in it. Funny little fellow. Apparently my friend has him eating out of her hand and I’m not surprised. She’s a dog lover from way back and has a way with them.
After a few concerns with his habit of running away, he seems to have settled into his new family very well. He’s got three boys and another dog to play with, along with his doting new ‘mum’. And it’s a good thing. We were in a motel for six weeks and there are precious few rentals at all, let alone ones that allow pets. Even though I miss Scruffy every day, it would have been terribly difficult for him coming over with us. He would have had to spend so long in a kennel then readjusting to a new location and climate that the poor fellow would have been miserable.
The most important thing is he is totally adored where he is and part of a boisterous family – something we could no longer give him. I’m content to get updates and factor in a visit when we go home.