By edanI still think about the first time I saw Poppy, our beloved Jack Russell Terrier, down in Bedfordshire. She was only about eight weeks old then, just a tiny little ball of fur with all her brothers and sisters around her. It was one of those moments you do not forget.
At first, we were going to have Poppy and one of her brothers, Dougie. But after thinking it through, we decided we did not want to risk having two dogs who might grow up fighting. I had seen that happen with my previous dogs, so we chose just Poppy.
We went back when she was 12 weeks old and picked her up. I remember holding her close into my neck, and Laura did the same. Poppy was in her element. Her mum and dad were there too, both lovely Jack Russell terriers, and it was clear they had all grown up in a loving family. There was even a young daughter, probably five or six, who loved playing with the puppies.
On the day, we stopped at a petrol station to use the cash point and get out about 320 pounds, which was the price we paid for her. Then we drove all the way back up the M1 to Daventry and took her home to Rugby. I had her on my lap the whole way back in a little blanket. She slept most of the journey, calm and content, not bothered by the travel at all.
What I remember most is that ride home with Laura driving and Poppy resting her little head on my arm. When we got home, we took her out into the garden. It was still being landscaped then, but she went straight onto the fresh lawn, played with a little toy, and had a good nose around. She sniffed at her new house like she already knew it was hers.
There was no one there except me, Laura, and our little puppy Poppy. And that was enough. I loved her from the start, and I still do.