Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.
I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
A Heartrending Scene: A Poor Dog Trapped Deep in a Hole, Desperately Pleading for Help
“In the vast tapestry of life, there are stories that touch our hearts and remind us of the enduring power of compassion and rescue. This is the heartwarming story of a lonely puppy, found alone in a deep ditch, crying out for help—a tale that underscores the profound impact that human kindness can have on the lives of the most vulnerable beings.
The story unfolds in a quiet, rural setting, where nature and solitude intertwine. On a serene afternoon, the cries of a puppy broke the stillness, echoing from the depths of a deep ditch by the side of the road. These plaintive pleas for help reached the ears of a passing motorist, who couldn’t ignore the call of a soul in need.
As the rescuer approached the ditch, they were met with a heart-wrenching sight—a tiny, shivering pup, barely a few weeks old, trembling with fear and loneliness. It was clear that this vulnerable being had been abandoned and left to fend for itself in this unforgiving world.
Without hesitation, the rescuer extended a hand of hope and love. They gently lifted the puppy from the depths of the ditch, cradling it close to their heart. The puppy’s cries of despair soon turned into whimpers of relief, as if it knew it had found a guardian angel.
The journey to healing and recovery had begun. The puppy’s cries for love and attention were met with a shower of affection, as if it knew it had found an everlasting source of warmth and security. Gradually, but surely, the puppy’s fear began to recede, replaced by the blossoming of trust and companionship.
Days turned into weeks, and the once-lonely puppy was transformed. It learned to play, to wag its tail in joy, and to offer unconditional love in return for the love it had received. The puppy’s cries of desperation had been replaced by the song of happiness and the enduring power of human kindness.
Today, the once-lonely puppy is a vibrant, happy, and thriving dog, a living embodiment of the boundless potential for transformation and the enduring strength of the human-animal bond. This heartwarming tale inspires us all to heed the call of those in need, for in our acts of rescue and compassion, we have the power to save and transform lives, offering love and a second chance to the most vulnerable among us.”
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