One of the wonderful things about being in France is the fact that having a dog is more or less mandatory and as a dog lover from before I could walk there was never any question that we should have one.

We had been debating what kind of dog for a couple of years and the only thing we did agree on was that he should be BIG.  First I wanted a Boxer but my husband on the other hand wanted a Setter. Any type of Setter as long as it was a Setter, then after a while, I wanted a Golden Retriever.  I had in the beginning, said that I would not have a Golden Retriever due to the fact that I had to put my last big dog Zico down on my birthday 8 years ago. I sat in my car in an isolated village in Norway in the dark, in a freezing blizzard with an empty lead crying my eyes out for hours until the car was snowed in.  

Thankfully time heals broken hearts and my decision of wanting a Golden Retriever was soon the wish of us both. A small 8 week old puppy that we could shape and form as we wanted, who would just love us for being us, was what we wanted. A dog that would doze in the sun in the summer and sleep in front of the fire in the winter. Picture perfect, that’s how we saw the ending to our dog story.  

Well as we all know, life rarely goes according to plan. In our case the plan changed as I started to think about all the rescue dogs that needed new homes.  My previous experience with taking on an abused animal made me even surer that this was something we wanted to do. Mentioning this to a friend, she pointed me in direction of the Hope Association and I contacted Siobain. In the conversation I did tell her that we originally wanted a Golden Retriever and she responded; I know of one. A mix of Golden and something else, but none the less, a Golden. A big dog with a not good start in life needed a new home. Pictures arrived and we were lost, it was love at first sight.

As my husband is commuting between France and Norway, Captain Hastings and I spend every second of the day, and night, together. He is 35 kilo of muscles and suffers from strong separation anxiety. He sits in front of the shower tray when I shower in the morning and he would sleep on top of me if I let him. He hangs over my lap when I work on my computer and he will sit on my lap, or try to, with half his back outside of the chair when I sit reading a book at night.

He looks at me like I am an illusion that you would have after having wondered the dessert for days or weeks. He is willing to listen to anything I say; even the most boring subject seems to be of interest.  He has eaten the remote control for the TV, does not travel well in a car and he thinks that he can have fun by eating pillows if left alone. In other words he is a bit like having adolesent teenager in the house.

He also acts like the dogs out of Walt Disney cartoons and has bones dug down every in the garden. When I decided that it was time for his first bath I tried to get him to lay on a blanket in the garden in the hope that he would stay sand free at least intil he was dry. No such luck. I turned my back and in 3 minutes and his blanket had him and 5 bones on it, all jewels dug up from along the house wall. It was as if he was saying, Hi lady, I am not a poodle and sweet smelling shampoo is not my thing. His fur coat was just as filled with sand the next morning as it had been before the bath and we later made a silent agreement that I will keep away from bathing and shampooing him if he promise me that he will not bring me gifts.

Would I change the new man/dog in my life? never.  I wake up in the morning laughing as he frantically licks my face at 6am! and I am still laughing as I go to bed.   With Captain Hastings came joy and the knowledge that wishes do come true, and hopefully very soon, Miss Lemon and Poirot will arrive in form of two kittens and our weird and wonderful family in France will be complete.

Thank you so much to Siobain, Susan and Danielle for all your kind help. And thank you also to David for the delivering him.