He had said that he didn’t do puppy play. I’d never consciously planned on having a puppy so I took that at face value and didn’t think any more about it.
Then we found ourselves at a slightly kinky social engagement, and I had cause to send him outside to stand in the cold. I was just thinking about letting him back in when I saw him, crouching outside the door, pawing at the glass to be let back in, much to my delight and that of those people I was talking to.
Still he was not a puppy.
That spark of playfulness has certainly fed itself into a couple of my fantasies, and I found myself writing about a girl and her pet. His reactions to those stories were always positive.
But he was still not a puppy.
So on a perfectly vanilla day, Mat and I were out for a walk when we passed a family out for a stroll. They had a puppy with them, on a pink rope lead, who was straining excitably, bounding about as only a puppy can.
“What an excitable puppy” I was laughing.
“I’d be excited too if I had a pink lead”, Mat had barely finished the sentence before our eyes met and he knew his fate was sealed.
When we returned home I ordered a pink rope lead, the kind which comes with a collar built in. I said nothing about this of course; waiting patiently for it to be delivered. When I opened it in front of him his face was a picture.
I slipped it over Mat’s head, and petted him enthusiastically. I took him for a walk in the garden, and he played with me. I had puppy treats (mini cheddar biscuits!) to feed him as I trained him to sit and stay.
I had a puppy of my very own.