Real Life The picture that means so much

Real Life

SO MUCH The picture that means

After Nicola Owst rescued a pup in need, she realised her new best friend saved her, too

From the moment I met Buddy, there was no doubt in my mind I’d do everything I could for him. I gave him love and a safe home, and today, I can’t imagine life without him. Not only is he a family member, but he’s my best friend and has been by my side longer than my husband, Jon, 37, and my kids, Toby, two, and two-month-old Harvey. My story with Buddy began in April 2009, when I was on my way to the outskirts of London with my friend Sally and her daughter, to see a horse they were interested in buying. As the rain pelted down, we drove along a tiny lane and arrived at a scrapheap, piled high with furniture and machinery. I spotted a discarded dog crate next to it –and, edging forward for a closer look, spotted something inside. Peering in, I gasped as I saw a puppy, still breathing, alive, but looking very poorly. His bones protruded from his skinny body, and he was covered in sores. Gently opening the crate, I fi shed out the Staff ordshire bull terrier pup, cradling him in my arms as we rushed back to the car and wrapped him up. I stroked him as he sat in my lap, and we rolled down the windows as the stench of faeces, urine and rotting fl esh was unbearable. He wasn’t very responsive, and I had to keep checking that he was breathing. He seemed small and underweight, probably the size of a Jack Russell, and his skin hung off his little body. That was when I named him Buddy. He needed a friend –and I did, too. Going through a diffi cult break-up, I felt vulnerable, alone and rejected. In a way, I knew how he felt, and wanted to do everything I could to protect him. We raced to a vet in Mowsley, where I was staying with Sally, and we were told it was the worst case of neglect the vet had ever seen. The poor pup’s skin was infected, the pads of his paws damaged, and his teeth in such poor condition the vet couldn’t determine his age. At a guess, he was six months old, but we couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being alone again, so took him home with me, armed with antibiotics for the infection. Home sweet home We quickly bonded. I bathed him in the sink and had to carry him everywhere because his paws were so sore. Whenever I left the room, he whimpered, desperate to follow. That night, I padded a basket with blankets for him to sleep in, and put it beside my bed. He slept soundly, but I didn’t, constantly checking he was OK. Truth be told, the following morning, I was amazed and relieved to fi nd he was still alive. After giving him scrambled eggs for breakfast, overed his paws with tton wool, then baby cks. He cautiously ok a few steps, soon llowing me around. Gradually, with he vet’s help, Buddy mproved, gaining eight, his skin clearing p, and I saw a glimmer f his personality. He early needed love and ttention, and he had an ‘HE NEEDED A FRIEND’ Wearing baby socks, Buddy took his fi rst steps Nicola says that Buddy is part of the family

abundance to give, too, wagging his tail when he met new people. Then, I met Jon at work and, in March 2010, we started a relationship. I told him all about Buddy and how he was part of the package –no Buddy, no me! Of course, Jon fell in love with him. We never found out what had happened to Buddy –but although he’ll always have some scars, he’s a diff erent dog from the terrifi ed, neglected one I found. He’s a fi ghter, having battled cancer in his leg in 2015, undergoing an operation and chemotherapy, and he’s even made three appearances at Crufts. I’ll always be grateful for Buddy. Not only did I rescue him, he saved me, too. ✱ To follow Buddy’s Facebook, search for ‘Buddy Dog the Rescue Staff y’