We picked up our golden retriever puppy, Lowen, in late October last year, just as the clocks were changing. And while I’d argue not much can compete with the cuteness of an 8-week-old puppy, I had forgotten quite how exhausting puppies can be.
Don’t get me wrong, Lowen fit into our home seamlessly from the get-go. My three-year-old daughter was besotted (and thankfully of an age where she could at least vaguely grasp the concept of boundaries and personal space). Spending time watching Lowen develop as she played with the best puppy toys or our slippers became the entire household's favorite pastime. And, perhaps most crucially, the house no longer felt that unique and peculiar unhomely feeling that comes following the loss of a pet - one of the things nobody tells you when your pet dies. We felt complete again.
