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It takes a heck of a lot to make me cross. To make me so angry that it took over four hours to calm down from wanting to kill him, must mean something of cosmic proportions must have happened.

When I first got Yanky, I had some serious doubts about whether I had done the right thing. While the bond seemed to form quickly for him, I did not feel myself making the same connection. The fact that it took so long for he and Gemma to co-exist just added to my woes.

Then I got sick. All I wanted to do was stay in bed. I felt like I was doing Yanky such a disservice by not being able to take him out and exercise and train him like I should. Part of me wanted to call in the cavalry to take him off my hands, so that I could concentrate on getting better. Nothing like taking a dog out late at night and early in the morning when it is cold, and have the sniffles.

I could not do it, though. I felt that if I asked someone to look after him then, I might not want him to come home again once I was better. I cannot compare him to any other dog I have had – even Fayth. But it was getting to me that I did not feel for him like I had previous dogs.

After this afternoon, there is no doubting that bond. He is my child and I will protect him.

Victor picked us up as usual from work, and off we went to Woolworths to fetch a delivery. As usual, we had to wait outside. Victor parked in the glaring heat. I did not ask him to move, thinking we would not take long. Next thing I know, he has opened the back door and taken Yanky for a walk. That, I can handle. But when he came back and told me he had let Yanky off leash. In a park, without fencing, in front of a road with frequent traffic …

He can thank his lucky stars that Yanky did not run off. That I could not get hold of him. That I need him as a driver still, so bit my lip and told him to never do it again. Then he told me that I disappoint him. That he has had a dog before. Beside the point. This is a specially trained dog, not a pet (something I have tried to explain before). I added that this dog was worth over R50,000 and if something had to happen, there is no way in hell Yanky would listen to him.

All of a sudden, I am very protective of my impulsive, donkey-brained idiot of a dog. He can act stupid sometimes, but I love him to bits and will not trade him for anything in the world. Why else do you think I am going through such great lengths to ensure his safety at the house?

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