When Sherlock joined the Holmes Family…

I felt like a little storytime post today so make sure you are sitting comfortably whilst I tell you all about how my family of four became a family of five (and considerably smellier).

It was in the summer of 2013 when my aunt had just bought home a new labradoodle puppy called Ted. He was a creamy white colour and so fluffy and cuddly and me and my mum drove up to go meet him (and say hello to the rest of my family I guess).

For years, my parents had been those staunch “we are NOT getting a dog!” kinda parents. Me and my sister had done everything to convince them – I’d even made a cute powerpoint presentation on why we should get a doggy – but to no avail. I’d already turned 18 and had left home semi-permanently to go to uni and the NO DOG rule had won.

So I was very excited to meet Teddy but also quite jealous and I was prepared to make lots of “jokes” about me stealing him. He was as cute as I’d imagined, but also so well behaved and intelligent. He was a lovely lovely puppy. It was while me and my mum were cooing over him, that my aunt made a passing comment: “Oh, his breeder actually had two litters at the same time and she has one puppy left that she hasn’t been able to find a home for!”

Me and mum gave each other a hopeful look (which shocked me) and then she shook her head. We continued playing with Ted, until about an hour later when my dad gave us a call. I picked up the phone and to my surprise, the first thing he asked about was my aunt’s pup. I started gushing about how amazing he was and so well behaved and cute and then, without thinking, I mentioned the last puppy who didn’t have a home. “Oh and auntie says that there’s one puppy left who they can’t find an owner for!”

“Get him” said my father immediately, and I remember reeling in shocked silence. “Just get him. I can’t be bothered to stop you from being happy anymore!” I let out a hysterical laugh and said to mum “Dad says to get the puppy!” She also laughed and exclaimed “No, we can’t… Could we?” I passed the phone to her and did a little dance around while mum agreed we would go to see the puppy without a home and think about it.

Next thing I remember is a long drive to go see this magical puppy who seemed too good to be true and hoping we’d be allowed to keep them. We turned up to the breeder’s house and sat down on the sofa (the talking seems a blur to me but I know she asked about our lifestyles), and she opened the door and set down this wriggling bright orange puppy who immediately started investigating the room. He was insanely fluffy and bright eyed and he melted my mother’s heart. There was no way we were NOT going to have this puppy.

We cuddled the pup and talked things over with the breeder and agreed we’d come back in a week to take him home. It was on the way back that we started discussing doggy names and it finally hit us – lots of little giggles and saying “I can’t believe we’re doing this!” on the drive home. We got home, told my very happy sister that we were getting a puppy and we all agreed that there was only one name we could call him – Sherlock Holmes.

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