Rosita Boland: I swore I’d never get a dog for Christmas. Then I got one

I grew up hearing the annual advertising campaigns from various animal organisations at Christmas: “A dog is for life, not just for Christmas.” I tried not to notice the stories that inevitably rolled round sometime in mid- to late January; about puppies being abandoned when their owners realised they didn’t operate on batteries. People who got dogs during the festive season were going to be very bad owners, was the subliminal message.

So of course, it turned out that I got my own dog at Christmas, 11 years ago. It just happened that way. By the time she was old enough to take home, it was December. I picked her up on December 23rd, in rural Galway. A black cocker spaniel puppy. She took one look at me and went and hid under the Christmas tree, a bauble in her mouth.

“No refund, no return,” I was told by the breeder, whom I had a feeling was trying not to cry as we completed the transaction. His wife had absented herself from the house, to avoid being similarly upset. Five puppies had been born, but three had died shortly after, so my pup and her sister had been particularly special survivors.

I called her Boo. I had never owned a dog before, although I had had an imaginary one as a child, which was charming in theory but useless in practical application to an actual real dog. Prior to collecting my new puppy, I had attentively studied two dog training books, and leaned on the advice of a friend who knows everything about the canine species.

Helen McEntee and Sally Rooney had a good 2021. Eoghan Harris and Dolores Cahill did not

---

‘The bawdy, fertile, redheaded matriarch has kicked it’: ‘Favourite’ son’s obituary goes viral

---

Almudena Grandes obituary: Feminist novelist wrote of Spain’s marginalised

---

Storm Barra: Share your experiences of the ‘weather bomb’

---

I had bought a bed, and bowls, and a lead. I hoped the fact she was a Christmas dog would not jinx anything.

I wondered in despair how much a puppy would have to pee on floorboards before they started warping

“They like corners,” I specifically recall my friend saying. So I knew Boo would like corners, and hopefully, at some point, she would also like me. I brought her home, and our adventures together began. I did not have a clue what I was doing but, over time, I learned one extremely valuable piece of information that in my view wasn’t spelled out clearly enough in the puppy training books. I will give this to you for free.

Anything for food

I don’t know about other dogs, but mine will do anything for food. She does indeed like seeking out corners to sleep in, but she likes food more. “That one likes her grub,” I was informed on the day I picked Boo up. By training her with food I finally realised that was the breakthrough to getting her to do her business outside instead of on the floors of my newly-renovated house. At one point, I wondered in despair how much a puppy would have to pee on floorboards before they started warping.

Boo soon decided she liked me. After all, I was the one providing the food, the walks, the lodgings, and the general entertainment. It was a smart move on her part.

Since then, we have been through a lot together. Her vocabulary has become quite extensive. I don’t think it’ll be good enough to help with writing my articles any time soon, but she definitely knows what “breakfast time” and “dinner time” mean. It’s a floor show twice a day: full circular twirls of the kitchen, literally bouncing off the walls as I open the cupboard where the food is kept, and then a race across the room as I set the bowl down, while she skids to a halt in front of it and sits there obediently, waiting for me to tell her to eat. I should charge for public viewing. It’s as good as a canine decathlon.

I bring her with me on the road for work when I can. My dog quite possibly knows Ireland better than you do. She's been in every county, watching it go by from the back seat, and giving the scenery marks out of 10 depending on how many rabbits, cats, birds, sheep and other dogs she can see. She has sniffed the highways and byways from Donegal to Kerry. I take her for a walk on arrival before I do interviews, and we both have our noses to the ground: hers is actually millimetres from it, seeking evidence of squirrels or some such tantalisingly elusive beast, and my virtual one is busy figuring out how best to approach the pending interview.

Happy to see me

Having a dog has been a joy. It doesn’t matter what’s going on, she’s simply happy to see me every day. Every time I come back to the house after being out, I receive the same identical delighted, enthusiastic greeting. She puts a paw on my knee when she wants to communicate something. Sometimes, it’s just: pet me, pet me now. I have forgiven her occasional crimes, most involving food theft, except the crime involving my favourite pair of summer sandals which I’ll say no more about.

In recent times, Boo has been sharing her year between being with me and with friends in Sligo. She is a dog with both a city abode and a county abode; a dog with her paws in two provinces, and in three hearts. She was a Christmas dog that was most definitely for life; a dog that has enhanced my life ever since. Happy Christmas to all the very good dogs out there, and their humans.