19th April

I discovered last night that the blog has changed. I might be mistaken but I presume it has been updated, it was completely different uploading a photo and I seemed unable to view it beforehand, so please bear with me until I get the hang of it. I suppose it's possible I have pressed a button and changed it all myself ...

I promised to tell you Pete's story. It all seems a while ago now but I will do my best.

It was July 2009 and we had taken in the four six week old pups on the Saturday. I then received a call from a couple who had answered an internet ad and gone to see a litter of pups advertised as Staffies. There were eleven pups altogether and they had them in a horses feed bucket! The young couple should not have been looking as they were not in a position to have a dog, both working full time and living with the lads family, I still have no idea why they went to see the pups but can understand that on seeing them they felt sorry for them and paid for one to get it away.

I don't remember the phone call but remember them turning up with this tiny puppy in a plastic storage container. They were quite pleasant, just very young and hadn't got a clue! They had had him less than 24 hours, fed him scrambled egg most of which he had brought back up in the car and was now 'wearing.'
Their family had obviously been horrified not just about the immediate situation but that he was going to turn into a dangerous Pitbul.
I couldn't believe they were just going to hand him over to us and didn't handle it very well but Sara remembers me taking him out of the box and holding him in one hand whilst carrying on the conversation gesturing with my free hand whilst they looked on in amazement.

I think Sally and Simon came to collect Saffy whilst they were still there, . I remember it was all very chaotic and I was sleep deprived from looking after the pups so it is all a bit of a blur.
He was half the size of the other pups, barely five weeks old and the wrong colour for a Staffy. Apparently there had been a Mastiff wandering around and months later Sara googled Staffy x Mastiff and Dave walked in and asked why she was looking at pictures of Pete, so we concluded that was what he was. He has certainly grown into a very handsome chap.
The young couple had not even given him a name and in a complete moment of total overload I called him Peter.

He fitted into one hand.

He was poorly immediately with diarrhoea but we also had a problem with the other pups who picked up Campyla Bacter, we think from our garden from all the dogs we have had who had been in kennels. Anyway he was very poorly and on a couple of occasions spent some time in the vets where James the vet nurse pretty much saved his life by feeding him 'bits and bobs,' as Jane the vet put it, throughout the night. In honour of this we made James his godfather.

When Kerry and Simon came to pick up Rhea (who is now our agility star) they remember Pete looking very poorly and feeling sorry for him.

He slept in a small crate in the lounge with our dogs. I remember being so tired from looking after the other pups I had to go to bed and Sara, a natural owl, would do the night shift and look after him. I remember coming down one morning wondering if he would still be alive.

Another worry was integrating him with the other pups and whether they were bullying him, especially Hunny who was always the troublemaker. It was trial and error but we must have done it right as he is excellent with other dogs now.

Just look at those ears!

The other pups got homed but Pete remained, we did have some people come and look at him but it was difficult not knowing how big he would grow.
Sara was doing her A levels at college and walked him when she was free and said she would get her own flat and take Pete with her.
He was generally a good boy but had a stubborn streak and a sense of humour (much like Reuben) suddenly running off and refusing to come back. If I took him to the ponies he would run off round the farmhouse with me chasing after him round and round. You know he thought it was a game.

Playing with Elsie

I really wondered what we would do with him, I didn't want to crush Sara's plans but I knew it wasn't very practical.
Pete was six months old when I had call from Angela. I had met Angela at my vets. She had owned Staffs all her life and shook my hand when she heard I did Staffie rescue. She was a formidable woman and I was glad she was on my side!
She had just lost her greyhound and she wanted a male, preferably young, and she didn't mind a cross, as she said her Staffy cross was the best dog she ever owned.

At first I thought I hadn't anything for her and then I remembered Pete. The only thing was Sara, she thought of him as her dog. I told her about Angela and to her credit she was able to let him go.
I took him to Angela a few weeks before Christmas with snow on the ground and sleet falling from the sky.
Angela was the perfect home for him. She is local, uses the same vet and adores James the vet nurse who is Pete's godfather. She even gives her dogs 'people,' names so now he is Peter William and he lives with Elsie Rose, who is a tiny Staffie, half Peters size.

What a handsome chap he is now.

He has had trouble with his legs and had an op on his cruciate joint at Anderson/Abercrombie where Cleo went but otherwise he is happy, healthy boy and Angela says she would never part with him.