Poor little pupster

Juno was spayed today and came home in her snazzy post-surgical body suit, woozy and disoriented.

Having a dog often makes me wonder about the rights and wrongs of domesticating what should be a wild creature. I see her absolute joy running around woods and fields then see social media full of demands that all dogs are kept on leads on one hand and panic and fear of dog theft and harm on the other. I feel I have seen both the British public’s absolute love of dogs, but also the fear and hatred of them too.

One thing I do know is that having brought this beautiful creature into our lives, we are responsible for her. If she is stolen (and she’s so wonderful and gorgeous I imagine she’s catnip to dog nappers if you’ll excuse me taking liberties there) at least she would not end up as a ‘brood mare’ on a puppy farm now she has been spayed.

The vets’ staff came out to tell me what a lovely dog she is. Josh says they just say that to all their clients, but the way they described her happiness to meet them, her ever wagging tail and licking their faces as they inserted her drip made me feel - biased as I am - that this is one special dog.