By Jon Kavanagh

How long does it take to get a dog? Well, in some cases around sixty years. At the age of six or seven I shattered the domestic harmony of the gate lodge where we lived by asking if I could get a dog. In a performance worthy of Rumpole of the Bailey, my father, a good man given to catastrophizing, rose to his feet to put forward the case against. “Dogs are a nuisance and Willie (a local farmer he didn’t see eye to eye with, to put it mildly) would say our dog killed his sheep and take every penny we have off us”, he thundered, as he won his case hands down. A year or two later on seeing a pack of west highland terriers performing in a TV circus act, my mother said, “Ah, I would love one of those”. Embolden by her alliance, I appealed the previous ruling. But good old Rumpole once again donned his wig and gown. The verdict – NO DOGS ALLOWED.

The decades sped as I grappled with the swings and roundabouts of life, with little thought of a dog entering my mind. But then as my beard developed a salt and pepper look and my brow produced more furrows than the fields at the national ploughing championship, unexpectedly my canine clock began to tick loudly. It’s now or never I thought. So, on a Saturday morning, I found myself test walking potential adoptees in a dog shelter. Some were boisterous and too hard to handle for a first-time owner. With others the chemistry just wasn’t there. As I was about to leave, one of the fantastic volunteers who work there said “Cyril is here as well”, pointing out a short legged black and white Jack Russell in the pen. Following a successful meet and greet, my credentials were checked and the adoption papers signed. Cyril enthusiastically leaped into the car, bringing my search for a new companion to an end.
Getting a dog entails a substantial amount of change and expense: regular walks, visits to the vet, medication, grooming, finding a reliable dog sitter when going away etc. Be prepared for a huge increase in house cleaning duties, as paw prints and hairs invade places you didn’t know existed. The shared moments of joy like the over-the-top welcome home, cuddles on the sofa and zoomies make it all worthwhile though. For ‘walk’ read ‘meander’. I’ve had to learn the patience of a zen master, as Cyril pays his respect to every tree, lamppost and random object we pass along the way. Dogs deserve the Nobel prize for their ability to break down social barriers. People who otherwise wouldn’t notice each other stop to chat and introduce their pets with the instruction “say hello”. Teddy, Wilson and Maverick are just some of the dogs and their humans I have befriender, as we visit the parklands of Swords, New Bridge House and Malahide Castle. I’m glad I finally found the dog I asked for all those years earlier. I guess what’s worth having is worth waiting for. At the moment dog shelters have record numbers seeking their forever homes.