Marley and Ty

I should introduce my boys. 

Marley is the oldest. When I bought him home he was 5k of cuddly brown fur with big bluey brown eyes and an appetite big as a house. For everything in the house. Skirting, tables, sofas, remote controls, cushions, throws, carpet, DVD, letters, parcels. But I loved him, none of that mattered. There were tears when he got hold of a very precious book, or the time he got in the bedroom and chewed a selection of wrapped Christmas gifts for my friends. But they were all replaceable. Marley got me through a tough time, I was off sick from work with stress and he got me out of the house, discovering local paths, the river, the parks. He got me talking to other dog owners, and gave me someone to care for when I needed it. 

Now he is 36k of cuddly chocolate fur and sometimes I look at him and my heart aches I love him so much. He is just 2 and a half and acts like a plodding old dog, but when he is running in the garden or the park, I am sure he still feels like a 5k puppy.

On holiday last year on the Isle of Wight, for the festival, we took some time out to look round the island and there seemed to be dogs everywhere. I was missing Marley dreadfully but there was something more. Destructive as it had been I was missing his puppyhood. I wanted another dog.

Several of my friends tried to talk me out of it. But I started my research. It turned out that 18 months was the perfect age for a dog to have a new companion introduced. A second dog was company and a distraction from boredom for a dog left at home for any time and I was back at work. 

I started to look at rescue sites, breeder sites, sending cute pictures to my new man. In the end he came up with the ideal solution. If I wanted a companion for Marley, he would buy the second dog, and pay for its upkeep. It would be his dog, but live at my house, as we planned he would, soon enough.

For many reasons which may be the subjects of another blog, we chose to get a Dalmatian. We researched and found the best breeders I have ever heard about. They clearly cared deeply for all their pups and had 6 adult Dallys to prove it. We were scrutinised carefully as potential owners and luckily passed all their credentials. 

A week later the prettiest puppy in the world was lead into the garden to meet with Marley. My Marley was so gentle and happy to see this little maniac we had bought home. A year later he still looks at me as if to say, "he's ok for a play , but when is he going home?".  

Typhoon, the name given by the breeders, which we saw no reason to change, was very apt. Ty led us all a merry dance. But the magic of Ty is that when playtime is over and its time to sit down, he is at our side, snuggled up and looking at us adoringly.

He is white with very well defined black spots, densely covering his ears and tummy and well spaced out all over his body. The markings on his face are delicately spaced and his eyes are rimmed with black, the black on his mouth makes him look like he is wearing smudged lipstick. Despite his now 16 months of age, he has retained some pink around his snout.

So there are my boys. They are destructive little thieves, they wake me up in the middle of the night just to be let out to lay on the lawn/mud where the lawn used to be, they have to have special food that doesn't upset Marleys delicate stomach, they pull on their leads, run off whenever they get the chance, and fill the house with brown, black and white hairs . But I would be lost without either set of brown expressive eyes watching my every move, lost without them cuddling up to us on the sofa, lost without the excitement when I come home, lost without the unconditional, unquestioning love.