You may remember that some while ago I lost a special dog, and soon after, The Husband suggested it might be a good idea to get another to keep our remaining dog company. I somewhat cautiously said that perhaps a new dog would be ok, but not one too big or too young.

Somehow we ended up adopting a 3-year-old Rafeiro do Alentejo, a huge dog, a potential monster, and The Husband and The Dog became instant buddies, with The Husband lavishing hugs and untold kisses on The Dog, who sat there, no doubt thinking, ‘whoa I fell on my feet here, gimme more.’ A bond was forged. He has no control button and got so excited greeting guests by jumping up for face-licking, he embarrassingly knocked them into the bushes or on their backsides, being almost as heavy as they were.


Good Watchdog

The Dog is now a bit older and maybe a little more controllable. He is like a huge living rug in the kitchen, taking up the pathway between the cooker and the fridge, or the table and the door. Wherever he lays we all have to step over him, even the other dog. He doesn’t care - he just lays there, watchful, but in the way. We have had to rearrange the furniture in the living room to accommodate him and his giant bed. Woe betide you if he starts to bark inside the house - I can tell you it is guaranteed to blow the wax out of your ears.

The breed itself is said to be an excellent watchdog. It’s said he would be a useful livestock protector, being vigilant at night and very serious when guarding any property entrusted to him. He has a calm and confident expression.

All that is true. He sleeps most of the day underfoot wherever he wants, and as it starts to get dusk he yawns, stretches, and starts to wake up, and begins looking for things to guard or bark at. A leisurely stroll around the outside is the start, just to make sure there are no intruders. He will then sit up on a convenient bench where he has a commanding view of the track outside in both directions and watches and waits for something to happen. Sometimes nothing happens, but he will bark anyway - sometimes at rabbits and hares, or cats if any are unwise enough to come into range, falling leaves, waving branches, and sometimes imaginary things, goodness knows what he thinks is out there.


Digger of Pits

He is a digger too - the garden is now full of shallow pits behind the oleanders where he sometimes cools off, or holes he has excavated while trying to get at some poor mouse or gecko that is trying to escape. The Husband just laughs and says ‘good boy’ while I am there with a trowel refilling holes and trying to replant wilting plants that didn’t stand a chance if in his way. The Dog can do no wrong.

He doesn’t catch much. In reality, he is a big old softie with not a bad bone in his body. Oh, he looks the part alright – I think any self-respecting burglar would bypass the house looking for an easier target rather than taking their chances with those jaws.

I suppose I am secretly starting to like him a bit more. He is a gentle giant, loyal and loving, and hasn’t developed an appetite for shoes, although tea towels were once on the menu. The downside is that he has no recall whatsoever, and led The Husband a merry dance recently when he escaped, and loped a good 4 km with The Husband in pursuit, and eventually, he gave up, probably hot and hungry. The Dog I mean.

I guess I am trying to say that there are many pre-loved dogs out there waiting for adoption, so if you have space in your heart, make space in your life (or kitchen) for one.


Related articles:

Author

Marilyn writes regularly for The Portugal News, and has lived in the Algarve for some years. A dog-lover, she has lived in Ireland, UK, Bermuda and the Isle of Man. 

Marilyn Sheridan