My first love, was my first dog, Brin.
The photos below, that I first shared back in 2016 with you, when I was having counselling then. The counselling helping with present stuff, but when I spoke of things from childhood, the counsellor could see my childhood was affecting my present and so further counselling had to be done slowly and carefully. So regular readers will know why I only say ‘dad’ and not ‘my dad.’
For those that don’t, I won’t repeat again, as it’s all there in my early part of blogging in 2016. All I will say is, I was scared of him. He was nasty. I only have one handful of experiences where he was a dad.
I took a photograph of these photographs in an album. Old photographs as you can tell. The square size ones we used to have.
I don’t remember what age I first asked dad for a dog. But he said no and I never persued it further and after a point, I forgot about it.
Then one day, dad asked if I’d like a dog? I was hesitant and scared to answer. I also wondered what’s the catch?
Eventually, I said yes and we went to fetch it. The landlord from pub at end of our street, took us.
I adored Brin from the moment I seen him. He was 6 or 8 weeks. I am thinking for definite 6 weeks.
He was weaned off his mum and eating solids.
I held him all the way home and only time I let go was so I could get out if the car. That’s when I discovered he had an accident on my lap and I was like eugh, as I got out.
I got washed and, changed and soon getting back involved with Brin. Watching dad feed him accordingly, which the dog food he used was shit, that I realised now as an adult and he gave it wrong. So best meals Brin had was when it came to left over dinners.
I wanted to take him for walks when he was old enough, but dad said no. He wanted to train him.
Now from 7 or 8 was when I was really showing an interest in animals and I knew by 9 how to train a dog. I would read or watch stuff, on animals. But no, dad said he was doing it. Something he regretted later, which surprised me him coming out with that. He is not a person admitting to things.
I had to end up taking him for walks in the end, because dad’s asthma being bad.
I was out every day with Brin and when I wasn’t at school, I would be out for a few hours in the morning as well as the afternoon on long walks. With short walks where my parents could see me over the wall, if they wanted.
Brin was a border collie cross and I named him Brin, after my auntie’s dog, who also had the same breed and similar in colour.
I could go on more about Brin, but eventually get to bad stuff. So I want to keep the post sweet.
I have said before, that I would never want to live my childhood again. But this part, me and Brin, out on long walks together. That’s the only part I would live again, from childhood, if I could. Nothing else.
Those were the happy times.
© Elizabeth Fisher and My Wellbeing and Learning Journey.
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