My pets and me
An avid pet lover describes the heartache and joy of owning pets
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with animals.
I still remember my first pets: two rabbits called Bubble and Squeak. I was devastated when they ran away about a year later.
Then there was Rex, a little grey French poodle whom I named after our next door neighbour. Bless him; he was possibly one of the stupidest dogs I’ve ever come across Just weeks after I adopted him, poor Rexie ended up choking on a chicken bone which my grandmother had accidentally dropped on the floor. I was inconsolable when I came home from preschool, aged five, and was told: “Rexie ran away with his girlfriend [a poodle up the road from us] but left a note saying: ‘Don’t worry mummy, I’m really happy where I am now’.”
I believed this story up until the age of 12 when my aunty (quite cruelly) pointed out that he’d actually choked to death.
When I moved to Cyprus to live with my grandparents at the age of seven, I soon realised our new home was a favourite with stray cats.
I loved them. They all had names – very inventive ones, such as Blackie, Whitey, BlackandWhitey. But my favourite was Grizoulis (Grey). He was such an idiotic little thing. My yiayia would feed him and all the neighbourhood cats would come and eat, while he just sat and watched them. As soon as they were gone, he’d start crying because he was hungry.
But his silliness made him all the more lovable.
Sadly, Grizoulis got run over by a car, which happened quite often on our busy street. Others were poisoned by this horrible old woman who lived up the road. But this is something I’d better not go into…
A West Highland Terrier called Tammy and a grey cat who I more creatively named Shelly followed. They too both died too soon, and I swore never to have a pet again.
I once read that losing a pet is sometimes even more painful than losing a loved a one, but I think it’s a different kind of heartache.
But then, 12 years ago, my little Cyprus poodle Alova came along, and I have her to this day.
I had just returned from my summer holiday and my friend rang to say: “Alova is here, waiting for you.”
Who? It turned out that not only had I agreed during a drunken conversation to have one of my friend’s puppies, but I’d even suggested that I would call her Alova, the nickname of a crush I had at the time.
Well obviously, it was love at first sight. Alova the dog, not Alova the man.
Now, 11 years on, I live in my own flat with my three – yes three – dogs.
I found Muttly, a pretty white poodle, two years ago in the middle of the road at Ochi roundabout.
After asking around the area if anyone knew her owner, I took her with me to work as she would almost certainly have been run over by a car. Like me, almost everyone fell in love with her; even my colleague Leo, who admits to not having much of a soft spot for dogs. In fact, he is Muttly’s godfather! When an owner didn’t come forward, she became my new baby.
And then, last year the newspaper made the mistake of sending me to the Latsia dog pound to report on the dire conditions the establishment – if you could call it that – was in.
And that was where I found Cooper – or Coopy as my close friend Elena renamed him.
He was tiny and covered in tics, with wonky eyes and so very weak. The man there informed me that his two weeks were nearly up and seeing that no owners had come forward, he would have to be put down.
I didn’t think so somehow. So he was my new little addition. My family went absolutely mad, and I did too to begin with if I’m honest.
But we’ve all settled in to our new life.
It’s not easy though. It is such a great responsibility, which I think some pet owners in Cyprus don’t seem to realise – evident by the number of stray dogs crowding the island’s shelters and pounds.
They are like babies, dependent on you for everything down to when they do their toilet. They need their annual vaccinations, regular tic and flea medication, and worming tablets.
Alova and Muttly also need their fur cut regularly, especially when it’s really hot.
Then of course you have to take into consideration the unexpected expenses. Alova, for instance, recently needed an operation to have a lump removed.
But the love you get in return is priceless. They literally worship the ground I walk on, even following me to the toilet when I’m at home, not wanting to lose sight of me for a second.
Going on holiday is just a nightmare. Last year I was on the trip of a lifetime in Africa, yet all I could think about was how sad, lonely and abandoned my babies must be feeling in the kennel where I had left them.
I mean, they were extremely well looked after at Rosewood Kennels, but it was still sad leaving them behind.
Even though it is a struggle sometimes – walking all three of them together is a laugh – I wouldn’t change my life or my little babies for the world.
They’ve brought so much love into my life and more than a few laughs too. I’m sure many pet owners would agree with that.
The only downside is that they live such short lives, but I just refuse to think about that.
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