The hairdresser I sometimes go to, asked me if I wanted a dog; she told me what he was like and where she had got him from. She was upset the way the people he was with were neglecting the dog, and she took it into her own hands to remove the dog and take him home. The dog was now well fed and was a gentle adaptable creature. The hairdresser was looking for a new home for him. She already had a dog and sometimes looked after her mum’s as well. She’d keep him though, she said, if she could not find a good home for him.

Today, while out walking in the town, I met Bennie, he’s about two years old. He is a lovely docile Lercher. I only found out who the dog was when the owner said she had just had him for two days, that he was ‘mistreated and kind of rescued by someone from the people who did not look after him properly’. She was thrilled with him. One thing though, he was not getting a 6am cooked breakfast like he had been getting at the other doggy place. I gathered he was not looking for an early breakfast either. Bennie was perfectly happy to adapt to the ways and workings of his new home.


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