My name is: Finn
I came from: Cyprus
Now I live in: Scarborough
My favourite things are: Food, food and food! Also Riley Dog, my grandma and touching. I must be touching a human at all times

Finn’s story

It’s always a strange day when my husband messages me, he never messages me, and this day was no different except this message was more cryptic than normal “ticks a lot of boxes” with a link….what boxes? Then curiosity gets the better of me and I click the link, there’s a dog, Woody, he’s a handsome German Shorthaired Pointer, he has those eyes where you can see the white part of it, our Riley Dog has eyes like that too… I read on, all about his smelly farts and how scared he was found in the woods, things that would put any normal person off.  I click away and get back on with my day. 

The next day, I don’t know why, I click back and read about him some more, click away and get on with my day. Then those eyes, they keep popping into my thoughts…there’d be no harm in checking if he has already been adopted, it’s been a few days, he’s most likely been adopted….no he hasn’t. I’ve been directed to an application form, no harm in having a look. I spend more time on this than any job application form I’ve completed. I get slightly competitive, making sure I’ve gone into detail, probably too much detail about the wonderful life we could offer him. I’m now invested, no-one is going to steal this dog (I’ve never met and seen a couple of pictures of) from me, he’s mine, he’s now “our” Finn. I check with friends if they will be our references, I send it off, we get a call about a Skype visit, this all goes fine, Kate home checks us and is lovely. We send off our deposit and the rest of the balance, all is fine, then we don’t hear anything for a couple of weeks. I’m a suspicious type. What have they done with my dog, where’s my money, oh, they’ve got my ID, I’ve been robbed! No, no I haven’t, I check the charity website, it’s all good.

Phew an email, Finn (was Woody) has been ill, they have been getting him sorted and he can’t travel until this has cleared up and he can have all his vaccines, phew, phew, phew…oh and poor Finn. We’re sent some more pictures and this reassures me. I can see my skinny boy, there in the background, he looks a quiet sort, perfect for us and our two older dogs. Next the arrangements come through and we are to meet him at a service station. Underdog give us approximate times (which turn out to be incredibly accurate), we stand at the services entrance and we spot the van. I give chase like a demented Mo Farrah, followed by Gav and two other ladies also picking up their new fur-babies. They check our ID and ask which dogs, the other ladies get theirs, they walk calmly out to meet their new mums. “Oh Woody, the skittish one”, me and Gav do a double take, trust us, we’ve picked the skittish one…

He came out like a bucking bronco! He was clearly terrified but to be fair, he’d had a journey to get to the north of England from Cyprus and I’d be cranky too. Gav scoops him up and we hurry to the car. We sit him in the footwell, he moults, my god that dog moults when he’s stressed, and he still does on the odd occasion something unsettles him. We have an hour or so drive home and he settles, he’s fine, he snoozes. Itss half way and now he’s licking my face, he’s adorable, I love him. 

We get Finn home and introduce him to our two. They are used to other dogs coming into the house, so this is nothing new to them, they all get on and everything is ok. We book a week off work with the plan to toilet train and get him settled in. As Finn has never lived in a house a number of things amuse us. The way he attempted stairs was unusual to say the least and the cold north east coast was a shock to the senses, but after a couple of days he knows to go to the loo outside. We also dare to let him off the lead. He goes, he runs, we have palpitations, but he comes back, first time, every time and continues to do the same. This is helped by him being a greedy git.

We introduce him to my sceptical parents, who take our boys out most afternoons and to their delight Finn walks nicely on the lead, he comes back to them and they are now helping with his training. He is now working out that the ball is fun to chase, not just to be held in an attempt to make other dogs chase him and he has a best friend in Sam, a golden retriever who lives across the field. Finn is bright (but with the attention span of a goldfish) and he has learnt to sit, stay(-ish), lie down, come, spin and twist. Giving paw is a natural GSP trait so we can’t take credit for that…and it pains me to say it, but yes, my husband was right, Finn does tick a lot of boxes.

He is the most affectionate dog, he is loyal, loving, full of beans, as mad as a box of frogs and he makes us laugh every day. Gav enjoys training him and the love and companionship he provides, I enjoy running and he makes an ever-ready training buddy. He comes everywhere with us. He’s been on boat trips, bendy buses, trains and even to a gay pride event (he’s not keen on buskers and brass bands). We have tried to get him better used to crowds, but those and the air breaks of buses are still something to be wary of. He runs and plays on the beach and in the woods, with no worries that he won’t come back to us. In essence he is our new best friend and we love him. Thank you to Underdog for allowing him into our world, he enriches our lives everyday

- Cathy