COVID Baby

Life is scary but even more so when you've grown up in isolation and have no experience of crowds, bright lights, noise and strangers. When your whole world revolves around 2 faces that you see every day and you live isolated from the rest of the community that your siblings have been exposed to since they were young. Looking up and seeing the glare from lights shining down upon you, being approached by strangers who fawn over you and who just want to touch you, hearing the noise of traffic and travelling in a car; all are daunting experiences when all you have been exposed to is peace, quiet and the company of just a few.

Feeling fear and uncertainty at the unknown face coming toward you, the person holding a hand out in a gesture of appeasement; yet you don't know them, you don't trust them; are they going to hurt you? You look at your mother for reassurance, confirmation, safety. You seek shelter within her arms, the arms that have held you since your arrival into this new world. She comforts you, bolstering your courage, encouraging you to engage with this new person, this stranger.

She speaks to this new person, this unknown being, offering suggestions as to how to win my trust, how to engage with me, how to win my love. Be firm but fair, she says, make eye contact, she says, don’t hesitate, she says. I like confidence, it instils trust in me, the knowledge that I am safe in their care. They are not going to drop me or hurt me and they will keep me safe from harm by others.

I like this person, they hear my mum and take her advice on board. They hold out their hand and I let them touch me. I’m still not sure; this is so new to me but my mum is there, my security blanket, and I am safe. Nothing will harm me while she is there.

My mother watches, like a hawk, as this person reaches for me, to pick me up, to hold me, to coo over me. I’m used to being picked up and held; my mum and dad do it all the time but this is the first time a stranger has done so. The person is not a stranger to mum and dad and they have total confidence in the fact that this person will not harm me so I let them take me in their arms, let them run their hand over my hair, down my back, soothing me, calming me. When they pat my bottom I twitch excitedly. I like that!!

They touch me all over, admiring my eyes, my ears, my toes and they go misty eyed, declaring to my mum “He is adorable! He makes your family complete!” and my mum nods, smiling hugely at this person.

“What’s his name?” they ask my mother. Harry, she declares proudly. After Prince Harry of course. His red hair meant it was a foregone conclusion. “Well, no surprise there”, laughs our visitor, “he’s a dead ringer for him.”

They sit down, me on the lap of this person, who is stroking my back, and they smile at each other. Mum offers to make a pot of tea and gets up to do so when the visitor accepts. When she comes back she says that she’d better put me somewhere safe to avoid any accidents with hot water and takes me from the visitor’s arms.

She walks over to the corner where my bed is and, stooping, pats my bottom as she lowers me to the floor of the play pen. I trot over to the bed, grabbing a half-chewed bone on the way to pass the time while they chat. Being a dog is not all bad, especially when you are loved like I am. I’m a rescue dog, saved when I was 3 months old, from being put to sleep in a council pound. I love my family, especially mum and my doggy siblings, and, although I’ve not been to shows or events like my siblings, I am getting more used to meeting new people now that we are out of isolation and able to have visitors more often. I’m still not sure about going in the car but I’m a little keener each time we go driving.

Mum calls me her #COVIDBaby ♥

You can check me out on Insta: https://www.instagram.com/harry_at_hq/