"George and I" Chapter 1 (part 3) - The story of a Dog and his Man (The start of my journey to real estate passive income)

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My wife decided to call him George, after a 500-year tradition of all firstborn sons in our family getting the same first name...as we had no children she thought it would be a great idea to call the dog George and forgo having to call our son George at some point in the future.

My mother gave her support of this idea 100%. I love both women dearly but it is a wonder sometimes what women think.

Tradition is tradition, and I was not going to be the one in the family to break that tradition.

The following few weeks went from bad to worse, as George's integration into our lives was not a smooth one.

Each time he came into contact with the 2 Alsatians on our plot he pissed himself; each time I spoke to him he pissed himself...if you looked at him he pissed himself.

It was a wonder in itself such a small animal could contain so much fluid. All this added to the feeling of repulsion I felt for the dog.

As it was the middle of winter Sue insisted the pup be allowed to sleep in the house.

As puppies do he left his fair share of deposits around the house, so not only did I have to see the dog, now I could smell him too.

Now I don’t like dogs in the house period, and so my esteem for the animal was not enhanced when one night I stepped out of bed to go to the toilet and felt the cold dog poo squish between my toes.

I was livid, shouting as I hopped around on one foot looking for him, trying not to smear the poo on my foot around the bedroom, but even at that age, George was a clever creature because he never allowed me to find him... I think that might have been his last night in our house and on the planet.

My wife thought it was hilarious...

As was my custom I swam each morning in the old pool in the garden around the back of the Bougain Villa.

One morning unbeknown to me George followed me as I ran round to the pool, running the gauntlet past the 2 Alsatians and all the other imaginary monsters he saw as he pissed his way around the plot.

As he rounded the corner and saw the water he immediately let out a soulful baying and rushed to leap into the water.

I was amazed as he bobbed to the surface and even a little disappointed.

Only his head stuck out above the water and he frantically paddled, barking and biting at the water bubbles. Round and round he paddled, barking and biting water, and slowly as his stomach filled with water, higher in the water he floated until like a cork bobbing to the surface his bum popped out.

He floated around on his water-filled belly, like a ball, kicking and splashing and barking, and I started to laugh.

And laugh I did for the next 20 minutes as he swam.

He swam with a frantic exuberance...a trait that was his throughout his life.

In fact, he did most things with a frantic exuberance. Eventually, I shouted for him to get out, which he did reluctantly, standing head down, panting for breath, one eye on me and the other on the pool.

I had to drag him away and back to our flat.

That was the turning point for George and I, and the start of an epic friendship that would span the next ten years.

I was reminded of the story of John the Baptist, as people came out of the waters reborn, new creatures.

George was reborn that day and left the pool full of confidence, a new dog.

The next time the Alsatians ran over to him he stood his ground, putting them in their place and he stopped pissing himself, king of the yard.

Water became an obsession for George, so addicted was he that until we were confident he would find the steps in the pool and get out when he was tired we had to lock him up during the day when we were at work, fearful he would exhaust himself and drown.

We swam together every day we could...

Life is an adventure made more beautiful and worthwhile when we have open wonderful relationships.

Come and join me for the Free 5-day challenge on 30 November

Link to join the 5-day challenge down in the comments