Why Us

Sam always looked forward to getting home. There followed a comfortable, reassuring routine; suit jacket off, top shirt buttons undone, and tie discarded. Then onto the sofa where his infant son would join him and they would review their respective days.

It had been a long day for Sam, and he was particularly looking forward to stretching out every limb and sharing the highs and lows with Thomas, so finding a curled-up, manging-looking dog of indeterminate heritage curled up in his place on the couch came as a total shock.

“What the fuck”. he cried out, then screamed for his wife Polly who was standing by having anticipated the outburst, and rehearsed her response.       

“What the hell is this?”, he asked pointing to Fugley, who was welcoming him with a tail wag.

   Polly began her reply. “Well, Jason left her to us in his will apparently, and the executor people brought her round with all her bits and pieces, and her bed”.

It took a moment for Sam to process the information. Their friend Jason had died the previous week in a car accident so it was beginning to feel like an on-going shockwave.

Shaking his head in disbelief, and looking at Fugley with open distain, he continued on, trying to reason the situation out. “I know she was Jason’s, but why the bloody hell would he dump her on us?  She won’t win any dog shows, and that’s why he called her Fugley because she’s so fucking ugly, only her mother could love her”. He paused, a myriad of reasons to reject her coming to mind. “ I don’t even like dogs. They mess the place up, they smell, and she’ll probably keep knocking Tomas over. He’s just starting to walk for heaven’s sake, so how’s he going to be being tipped flat on his face every 5 minutes?”

Polly was prepared for Sam’s reaction. Personally, she thought it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, it was the ideal family setup wasn’t it? Mum, Dad, son, and they were working on a daughter, and a pet dog would complete the Chester family profile nicely.

Sam was going to take a lot more convincing though. “Well, she can’t stay here”, he declared. “Sorry but we’re not having her, they’re going to have to find another home for her”.

It was obvious that Polly was going to have to use her best wiles on this challenge. “Well, we should at least wait until after his funeral on Friday.” she began. ”Apparently the funeral people said it would be a nice gesture if she’s comes to the ceremony, so perhaps we could take her there and hand her back when it’s over”.

It was a solution that immediately appealed to Sam. He reasoned that it wouldn’t seem right to march her back there and then, and against his better judgement, he agreed, after all it was only a few days until Friday. “Okay then, but can you please let them know that’s what we’ll be doing so there won’t be any misunderstandings”, he asked of Polly, sure her diplomacy skills would stretch to cover the situation.

Meanwhile, as if understanding their conversation, Fugley remained curled up and inconspicuous as possible.

Arriving back the next day, Sam wondered what his homecoming would be like. He took off his suit jacket, undid the top buttons of his shirt, and discarded his tie. Thomas was already on the couch, and Fugley was curled up in a somewhat sumptuous pink bed beneath.

Sitting down on the sofa, Thomas immediately began the conversation. “Doggy”, he said excitedly pointing at Fugley. “Got doggy Fuggy”, and with that, he jumped off the couch and settled into Fugley’s bed with her.

Sam was both amused and puzzled. He hadn’t even considered Thomas’s reaction to having a dog in the house, but the decision had been made, Fugley was going on Friday.

Day 2’s homecoming was much the same, only Thomas was in Fugley’s bed, which he immediately left to join Sam on the couch. Again, he animatedly started the conversation. “Fuggy and me walk with Mum. Go park. I swing. Throw ball for Fuggy”. He giggled as he related the experience. “Fuggy catched it and give me”.

Sam laughed. He didn’t think that the debate that was had at lunch over Brett’s new girlfriend’s attributes would capture Thomas’s attention, and he let him go on to tell all the rest of his day’s highlights.’

Sitting down with Polly after Thomas had gone to bed and they were enjoying a glass of red, Sam wanted confirmation that the plan to give Fugley back was in place.

“Ï don’t like that Thomas gets into Fugley’s bed with her”, he said in support his decision. “He could end up catching fleas or some sort of ruddy exotic skin disease”.

Again, Polly was ready with an answer. “Ï did think of that so I got the dog wash people to come over and give her the luxury treatment. Debug inside and out, lavender shampoo, and conditioner, brush and blow-dry., and they even sprayed her bed. Thomas laughed his socks off”.

Looking over at Fugley, Sam could see she was wearing a soft, fetching, fluffy coat, as opposed to what had been just a muddy coloured layer of hair. Even she seemed to be relishing her new look, not so tightly curled up and not so inconspicuous, and he had to admit that he was slightly annoyed that Polly had effectively countered his argument.

Day 3’s homecoming followed much the same format. Thomas was in bed with Fugley watching the Wombles, and jumped onto the sofa to join Sam, starting the conversation without pause. “Fuggy got big wash. All wet”. He related with a chuckle. “Got me and Mummy wet”.  

Sam attempted to slip in his story about the controversy surrounding Roger wearing a t-shirt to work that announced to all ‘I know I’m fat but I’m taking Ozempic so watch this space’ but it barely registered with Thomas.

Keen to use the event to strengthen his decision, he broached the subject with Polly over their glass of red when Thomas was in bed. “What’s all this about you and Thomas getting wet when Fugley got washed”, he asked. “You didn’t tell me anything about that. You could both have got colds or flu, and Thomas doesn’t need that on top of his other problem. Sam was referring to Thomas’s bed wetting issues that they were endeavouring to resolve with answers from their parental guidance bible.

Polly knew full well what Sam meant, and was able to come back with the perfect answer. “Well, as it turns out" she answered, "I know it’s only been just a short time, but since Fugley’s been here Thomas hasn’t wet his bed, either at night, or when he’s having his afternoon nap”.

Sam could only snort at the advice, irritated because there was nothing else he could think of that would cover the comment.

Homecoming on day 4 took a different turn. As had become usual, Thomas was nestled in with Fugley, but was quick to join Sam, without giving him any chance to tell him about his celebrity status as the hero who figured out how to work the new coffee machine.

“Fuggy knocked me down”. Thomas said. “On the floor. Two times”.

Sam didn’t want to hear the news but seized on it when he and Polly debriefed on the sofa after Thomas was in bed.

“Right, that’s it. I bloody told you this would happen. She’ll end up seriously injuring him, or even biting him, we don’t sodding know do we? She’s definitely going tomorrow she’s a major liability”.

Convinced that he’d finally won his bid to get rid of Fugley, Sam was totally unprepared for what Polly had to say next. She reached for her phone and pushed some buttons.

“You need to see this Sam”, she said, setting the phone in front of him. “Yes Fuggy did push Thomas over, but she was actually saving him from what could have been a terrible accident, and it would have been our fault”.

With that, she set in motion the video of their internal security camera footage of the incident. They’d become the classic helicopter parents, and felt it a duty to have Thomas’s every move covered.

As he watched, Sam saw Thomas tottering towards the baby gate they’d installed to prevent him having any idea of getting into the pool area, the entrance to which had been left open as part of the original landscape. Having had a growth spurt, Sam and Polly hadn’t realised that Thomas now considered the hurdle well within his capabilities and they saw him struggling to reach up and pull himself over. At that point, Fugley had pushed him over and stationed herself between him and the gate so that the second time he tried, she pushed him back again.

Well, what to say? Feeling a bit mean spirited, but he had to use it, Sam reached for the last defence of his decision that he could think of. “She’ll cost a fortune to keep. Food and vet’s bills, and shampoo and sets, they could add up to hundreds of dollars. What if she gets rabis or something, it would mean weeks of treatment and we’d be paying out big money”.

Watching for Polly’s reaction, he knew he had lost again.

“Well, as it happens, the executor people phoned this morning”. She said. "They wanted our bank details as Fugley comes with a sizeable bank account of her own. Apparently Jason had made provision for her upkeep in his will so that we won’t be out of pocket over her”.

Sam had to finally acknowledge that all his objections had been quashed, and that Thomas had developed a valuable, deep and meaningful relationship with the dog in the short time they’d been together. Having seen the footage, even he felt a change of heart, and looked again at Fugley, but with what could have been interpreted as affection, and in turn, as if understanding their exchange, Fugley rose from her bed and ambled to the  sofa to join them.

“Well, that’s it then”, Sam said fondling Fugley’s ear. “I’ll get on to the executor people and let them know we’ve changed our minds. We will be taking her to the ceremony, but she’ll be coming back home with us. We'll change her name to Fuggy as well, Thomas will like that".