Follow the adventures of our scruffy little terrier – who from living a frightening, friendless life roaming lonely streets found herself capturing the hearts of our
family and friends.


Follow Noodles the Dog on Facebook
and Twitter using the links below

 

Finding Noodles

We spent the weeks before Noodles arrived in our lives wandering around various rescue centres determined to give some poor dog a loving and caring home.  At times it broke our hearts; and with a then nine year old daughter in our house there were many dogs we could not even consider as some of these dogs had been so badly treated they were too traumatised to live in the exuberant world that children inhabit.  At one point we fell in love with a bustling, hustling little terrier cross called ‘Spot’ only to find she had devoured a large amount of rat poison and her insides had been so badly damaged there was a good chance she would not survive the next six months.  As much as we were tempted to bring her into our lives, we could not bear the thought of our children falling in love with her only to lose her a few months later.  Elizabeth certainly was too young to put through that sort of pain.

We were beginning to wonder whether we would ever find our dog to love when one Saturday morning last November we decided to wander down to our local rescue centre to see what they had there.  It was one of those wonderful autumnal days when the air was fresh and cool, yet the sun was shining and warm on your face.  We walked up and down the numerous kennels, some dogs shyly looking at us from the back of their run, others leaping madly at the wire meshes so excited to see you.  We avidly read each notice attached to the individual runs telling us what each dog was called and the type of home they needed.  It was just as we all paused thinking yet again we had not been able to find ourselves a dog that we suddenly had the feeling of eyes boring into the back of our heads.  Slowly, without consultation, we all turned around with a precision that was almost clockwork in fashion.  There she was in the distance in a run that the public could not reach staring at us.  This scruffy little terrier mutt with the biggest, darkest brown eyes taking us all in.  At that point we all knew we had been chosen.

The length of the run ran down to a meadow, and as we too were on a pathway leading to the meadow we started to walk.  As we walked so did she, following our every step.  At the bottom of the path was a large gate, but by now we were on a mission nothing was going to hold us back we were going to get to that scruffy little dog if it killed us.  Clambering over the gate and squelching through the mud we managed to make our way to the bottom of the run and there she was sitting waiting as if to say, ‘what took you so long?’  It was definitely love at first sight.  Then we panicked she was so lovely, so gorgeous she might already be gone maybe that was why she was out of sight.  Turning we now headed back to the gate at a run.  After practically breaking our necks scrambling over the gate we traversed up the pathway at a semi-run/walk with the little terrier following our every footstep until she reached the top of her run.

 

We  burst into the rescue centre office and then hopped from foot to foot as the woman behind the counter had another customer to deal with.  When our turn arrived we breathlessly explained which dog it was we were interested in.  No, we didn’t know her name, or the kennel number.  The woman looked bewildered and our frustration mounted.  It was with considerable relief we were greeted by another lady  who on hearing our rather inadequate description of where the kennel was situated nodded her head and said, “that will be Harmony.”  It was strange to suddenly hear her name.  “Has she already been chosen?” we asked holding our breaths waiting for the answer.  The panic must have shown on our faces because she smiled and shook her head, “no, Harmony was still looking for a home and would we like to see her?”  Having by now been turned into pathetic beings of our former selves we nodded our heads vigorously.

We were taken into a side room and told they would bring ‘Harmony’ to us.  We waited for what seemed an age and then she was there, a bundle of fluff and fur, sniffing excitedly around the room before settling on standing as close to Chris’s legs as she could.  Any resemblance to the cool, sophisticated family we had possibly thought ourselves had by now completely dissolved.  We became blabbering idiots that started to talk to ‘Harmony’ in the ridiculous voices which we had always criticised other pet owners for doing!  ‘Harmony’ seemed to take it all in her stride and bore with our idiocy extremely well.  We stroked and fussed her as the woman from the rescue centre smiled in the knowledge that she had managed to rehome another waif and stray.

Harmony becomes Noodles

Having agreed with the Rescue Centre that we could be considered (and considered was the word) as potential owners for ‘Harmony’ we were then told they needed to come and inspect our house to check it was a suitable and safe place for ‘Harmony’ to live and above all the garden must be secure. The stress levels were now reaching disproportionate levels. We wanted that dog like we have never wanted anything before in our lives. We would jump through every hurdle we had to. We could rebuild the garden and would do so immediately. We arranged to pay another visit to Harmony the following morning when we could take her outside and play with her in a large fenced off area the Centre owned.

Having said goodbye to ‘Harmony’ we drove straight from the Rescue Centre to the local garden centre talking about nothing but ‘Harmony!’ We had been told she had been found by the local dog warden a few weeks earlier wandering around looking very bedraggled and sorry for herself. She had no microchip, no-one had reported her missing and no-one had come looking for her. At some point she had had her jaw broken and it had not been treated which meant it was slightly out of alignment. Poor ‘Harmony’ she must have been in considerable pain.

I think it was my husband who first broached the subject of her name. He wasn’t too sure he could stand in a field shouting ‘Harmony, Harmony!’ For some strange reason he thought he might sound a little daft! This led to great excitement. The Centre had told us Harmony was the name they had given her which is why she wasn’t use to it and didn’t respond. Well, we thought, if she doesn’t know the name ‘Harmony’ we could choose a new name for her. Suddenly the car was consumed by silence as we all pondered on what name we could give her. After about five minutes names started coming in fast and furious. "Would it be funny to give her a human name such as Sarah?" "No, that’s the name of your eldest sister and we don’t think she’d be amused having the same name as the dog." "Well then what about naming her after Grandma, Grandma would be really touched by that." "No, we doubt Grandma would be at all touched." "Biscuit, Badger – her fur sticks up how about Hedgehog or Prickles?" Naming her was not going to be easy!

We arrived at the Garden Centre and fencing materials were purchased as we designated the next day to transform our garden into a dog safe zone ready for the rescue people to come and visit us on Monday. Monday was at our insistence as we couldn’t cope waiting for approval any longer without having a nervous breakdown.

Back in the car on the way home the name suggestions came as quickly as before most were extremely silly which we all seemed to find hilarious. Looking back I put this down to high spirits, there was nothing faintly amusing about half of them! Then our youngest came up with Noodles. Alex, our then fifteen year old, quipped, "we could then get another dog and call it Chicken," we all laughed, but then fell silent. "I like Noodles," I said after a while, "it kind of suits her" and the others nodded in agreement. Noodles, solemnly we all repeated the word several times trying it out for size.

And so Harmony became Noodles, although in our paranoia we decided to keep this an absolute secret from the Rescue Centre in case they didn’t approve of name changes and would ban us from having her; seeing name changing as a serious criminal offence! I also didn’t have the heart to point out to my husband that if he thought he would sound daft shouting ‘Harmony’ across an open field shouting ‘Noodles’ was not going to be much of an improvement!

Defying the Elements Proves You're Tough!

We were up bright and early Sunday morning, ready for our next visit to Noodles (or Harmony according to the Centre). This time we were allowed to take her into an enclosed outdoor area where we could play with her. Unbeknown to us at this time, Noodles had no idea what playing meant! She happily went with us to the enclosure and ran around exploring its perimeters, but she had no idea what to do when we threw a stick for her. However, she was very happy to be picked up and cuddled. We have a photograph of me holding her that Chris says is the exact moment when she and I bonded. As soon as we put her down again, she was off running around the perimeters as if she just had to keep on moving. Maybe in her head she was still on the streets where the only way to survive was to keep running? We left with regret and much hugging and kissing – we had a garden to secure!

We arrived back at the house to be greeted by a huge torrential downpour, if you’ll excuse the bad joke it was definitely raining ‘cats and dogs!’ (I did say it was a bad joke!) A good lunch would soon set us up to face the weather and as the delicious smell of bacon wafted through the house we felt completely at one with the world. That is until one of us brought up the thought of ‘what if Noodles' owners turn up and claim her before we bring her home.’ The thought was too horrible to bear, I think we all visibly blanched. What was it about this ball of fluff that had turned us into quivering jellies? We were tougher than this. In order to prove this to ourselves, our stomachs full of egg and bacon we braved the rain and removed ourselves to the garden to tackle fencing issues. Within the space of two minutes we were drowned rats, hair plastered to our heads, raindrops trickling down our noses, more water inside our wellies than out. But we remembered we were trying to be tough so we got out the various hammers, saws and spades to build our sturdy and secure fencing. In all honesty it was more a case of Chris building the sturdy and secure fencing and the rest of us passing relevant tools whilst making encouraging noises.

The fencing was complete and we smugly looked at our handiwork (or rather Chris’s handiwork) our clothes were now of the same standard as if they were actually inside the washing machine, the rain having soaked through to our skins. We had proved we were tough; we’d been outside all afternoon in a monsoon. Well we were tough until we all sat down for dinner, warm and dry, and started to worry whether the lovely four bedroom house we had built ourselves was good enough for the Animal Rescue Centre. The building Inspector may have passed it, but would the Centre. Maybe a quick dust and vacuum after dinner…..  

 

Inspection Day Dawns

Inspection day dawned and Chris and I woke with the same feeling we had all those years ago for our maths o’level exam! Alex and Elizabeth departed for school having, for the first time in their lives, made sure their beds were made and their rooms immaculately tidy. Even Chris managed to overcome his fear of our enormous bedspread and went directly into battle, challenging it to defy him when it came to corners; the pillows rebelled a little, but he soon had them conquered.

Chris departed for work trying to look confident with the knowledge he was leaving me solely in charge of convincing the Rescue Centre lady that we were suitable human beings. I think the modern terminology is ‘fit for purpose!’ Our eldest daughter, Sarah, who was away at university rang to check we had everything ready. “Have you vacuumed the house?” “Yes.” “What about the bathrooms have you cleaned them?” “Yes.” “Have you emptied the dishwasher?” “I don’t think they’ll check inside the dishwasher.” “You never know,” came the reply.

The lady was due at half past ten and after I had wandered around the house checking it for the millionth time I sat at the kitchen table to wait. I dare not do anything else in case I messed the house up. I tried to read the newspaper, checking emails on my laptop, but all the time this vision of a scruffy little terrier came into my mind. I constantly found myself flicking onto my screensaver to look at the photograph of Noodles which Elizabeth had placed there. A sad little face looked back at me, her dark brown eyes looked like somebody had drawn around them with an eye pencil, making them larger and more luminous just like the baby seals you would see in Scotland. Her fur was wiry and a mixture of browns, greys and black sticking up uncontrollably. To be honest she looked like a girl who consistently suffered from ‘bad hair’ days.

Just after I had boiled the kettle for about the seventh time there was a knock on the door and a charming lady beamed at me as I opened it. She didn’t seem too interested in the house, expressing no desire whatsoever to see the wonderful job Chris had done with the corners of the bedspread, nor any interest in checking out whether the dishwasher was empty or not. With one glance she took in the house and asked to see the garden. Proudly I led her outside to show our security efforts off. She checked the borders and declared she would inform the Rescue Centre that it was all safe for Noodles (or Harmony as she called her) they would be in touch to make arrangements for us to collect her. I could envisage her report going back to the centre. House and garden secure and absolutely delightful, future owners slightly insane and neurotic, but they’ll do!

We were told by the Centre we could collect Harmony on Wednesday which caused us some concern as the whole family wanted to collect her. The Centre informed us that we could delay collecting her until the weekend, but by this time our ability to be able to rationalise anything had completely gone out of the window. The weekend meant waiting a few extra days and anything could happen in that short space of time. She could be kidnapped, her old owners turn up or somebody else might show an interest probably living in a stately home and able to offer her a better lifestyle causing the Centre to change their minds. Having now totally and utterly convinced the Centre they were passing their dog onto a family that was not only neurotic, but had a leaning towards the dramatic, we agreed that my mother and I would collect Noodles on the Wednesday.

A Home at Last and Broken Rules!

It felt odd leaving the house that Wednesday morning knowing I would be coming back with a small ball of fluff who was going to become a permanent member of our family. I knew us all well enough to know we were not going to be a family of five plus our dog, but we would become a family of six with Noodles needs or worries considered as much as the rest of us. The house was all ready for her, we had spent a small fortune in the rescue centre getting her a collar, bed and all the other paraphernalia that seemed so necessary as we wandered around the shop of the rescue centre, money burning a hole in our pockets! We did manage to persuade Alex and Elizabeth that she really didn’t need a ghastly plastic, plucked chicken!

I collected my mother and we waved goodbye to Dad who was convinced we were absolutely crazy tying ourselves down with a dog and registered his protest by informing Mum he was going to have nothing to do with ‘that dog!’ He had no intention of looking after her if we went away on holiday! Smiling and waving my mother got into the car and we headed off.

Noodles was brought out to the main reception of the centre to be handed over to us. She politely greeted my mother (I introduced her to my mother as Harmony!) and looked rather bewildered by all the fuss being made over her. She looked even more bewildered as we bundled her into my car. My mother sitting in the back with her, just in case she got scared you understand!

My mother had arranged to meet my father at some friend’s house and we headed off in that direction. Poor little dog, she huddled up to my mother shaking like a leaf she must have wondered what was going on. It was the first of many car journey’s we would undertake with Noodles and as she started to realise that the car wasn’t going to self destruct or try and eat her she settled down. In fact she loved it.

We arrived at John and Mary’s and took Noodles in to meet some of the new people in her life. Again, she was terribly polite and let everyone make a fuss over her, but her response was restrained and aloof. She was on her guard, trust was not something she gave lightly. Strangely enough it worked a treat with my father who, fully expecting the over enthusiastic greeting you would normally get from a dog, became absolutely fascinated by this very restrained and polite small dog. He was overcome by a determination to make friends with her and she just wasn’t interested. We were to learn that this philosophy played a major part in her life and I have a strong suspicion that she was a cat in a former life.

With her special ‘RAC’ harness I strapped her into the front seat on the way home which she thought was fantastic, staring out of the front window watching the world whizz by. At this point she made the decision that she was definitely a car dog. If she’d been born a human she would have been Stirling Moss or Ayrton Senna! A glimmer of a sparkle started to appear in her eyes which previously had been dulled by pain and mistrust.

She was fascinated by her new home, wandering around having a good sniff at everything. We had placed her bed in a corner of the kitchen, in reality never expecting her to use it, but surprisingly enough obviously worn out by the morning’s excitement she climbed into it, curled herself up into a tight little ball, reassured herself that I was still in the kitchen and dozed. Whatever had happened to her in the past meant she could not fully relax and allow herself the luxury of a deep and meaningful sleep. She dozed lightly, my every movement meaning her eyes would open wide to check where I was and that I wasn’t planning on leaving the room. If I did leave the room she was instantly up and following me, like Peter Pan I had found my shadow!

At 3.30 p.m. we went to collect Elizabeth from school. I parked the car and walked Noodles down to the school playground. She liked the walk, she wasn’t too sure about the children. There were a lot of them and they all kept referring to her as a teddy bear when she knew full well her mother had told her she was a dog. She sort of liked the fuss and attention, but her nerves were so raw that she jumped at the slightest thing. I got around the panic I could see in her face by picking her up and holding her above all the little hands that clambered to reach her.

That evening we all snuggled down in the lounge with a film. Noodles had not eaten anything and must have been starving, but again her nerves had got the better of her. The first of the Noodles’ rules we had decided to establish had already been broken at the dinner table, as we tried to tempt her with tit bits. Just this once, she must be so hungry and we promised ourselves we wouldn’t feed her tit bits from the table again! The second rule, Noodles is not allowed on the sofa or armchairs, broke within ten minutes of entering the lounge. She looked so little and vulnerable and if she wasn’t allowed on the sofa how could we cuddle and comfort her? The third rule, Noodles sleeps downstairs, was broken at bedtime. She’d be far too frightened to be left on her own downstairs wondering where we had all gone and besides which Chris had work the following morning, the kids had school and we couldn’t afford to be woken by her howling. She hadn’t actually done any howling, but we knew she would. The fourth rule, Noodles shall not be allowed on the beds, was broken as soon as we all clambered into our beds. Elizabeth, who was still awake when we got upstairs, pointed out that she didn’t really like sleeping in a room on her own and Noodles wouldn’t either and maybe Noodles should sleep in her room and perhaps it would be best for Noodles if she slept on the end of Elizabeth’s bed where she could snuggle against Elizabeth’s feet and feel safe. Noodles looked up at us with the dark, sorrowful eyes and we found ourselves nodding vigorously in agreement.

Halfway through the night, I was woken by a small, fluffy dog sneaking into our bedroom, jumping on to our bed and wrapping herself around my feet. With a deep sigh, she half closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall into that light, fitful sleep she was use to.

The First Day of New Beginnings

Our first trip out with Noodles was the following day to Lincoln.  Chris was working at Lincoln Crown Court and I thought it would be a nice idea to accompany him and take Noodles for a walk around Lincoln. Just a small thing, but I had no idea how much she would love it.  The journey to Lincoln took about an hour in the car and she adored every single minute of it.  The sad, worried little face broke into a huge grin and her eyes started to sparkle.  She alternated from peering out of the window, watching the world go by, to lying in the middle of the back seat staring out of the front window.  It was on this trip we came across what was to be a permanent fixture in our cars, ‘Noodles Nose!’  From this day forth our car windows would be smeared by her wet nose.  We had just left the sticky fingerprint stage of Elizabeth, enjoying nice clean glass windows, but it looked like we were back to square one! Lincoln was as beautiful as ever and Noodles loved walking round and exploring all the nooks and crannies.  I also discovered she loved jumping onto small walls and running along them and if there was a pile of leaves she would go out of her way to run through them - just like a small child.

On the way back we dropped in at Chris’s chambers and Noodles was introduced to his colleagues.  She politely allowed them to greet her, but showed a complete lack of interest in them, the waste paper bin was interesting, but Chris’s colleagues – no!  Yet again, her lack of interest only increased the desire of everyone to befriend her.  Chris and I watched in amazement as grown men put their work to one side and bent down vying with each other to win her over.  Needless to say not one of them was successful!

 

Noodles Disappears and we have a Nervous Breakdown!

 

 

Noodles first adventure frightened the living daylights out of us and made us feel the most incompetent owners ever.  About a week after Noodles had moved in with us she had settled down enough to wander around the house confidently, feeling safe in finding herself the most comfortable bed in order to have a good snooze upstairs whilst we were downstairs.  On this particular day that is exactly what she had decided to do.  Chris was at home and we were both chatting in the kitchen when the phone rang.  I picked it up to be informed it was the lady from the rescue centre.  Presuming she was phoning to see how Noodles was getting on I started gushing away at how wonderful Noodles was and how well she seemed to be settling in, until I was interrupted.  “Where is Noodles now?” she asked.

 

Strange question I thought, but never mind, “well she’s upstairs asleep on our bed,” I responded.

 

“Are you sure?” came the reply.  A cold hand started to wrap itself round my heart.

 

“Yes,” I heard myself reply, “absolutely, I’m positive….well I think so, yes she must be…..” my voice started to dwindle.  The lady on the other end of the phone sounded a little too confident.

 

 

Chris by this time had picked up on the conversation and had gone upstairs to check.  He came back with a worried frown on his face, shaking his head mouthing “she’s not there.”

 

We looked at each other panicking and started frantically looking around the house.  Neither of us had been out, all the doors where closed, she must be inside the house.  I could sense the worry coming from the woman on the other end of the phone as she continued talking

 

“I think you ought to check, as we’ve just had a phone call from a lady a few doors away from where you live, number 158, saying ‘Harmony’ (we still hadn’t dare tell them of the name change) is in her back garden.”  The cold hand positively punched my heart at this stage.

 

“Oh my God!” I screamed down the phone, “I’m going, I’ll phone you back!”  I slammed the phone down and ran off out the house with Chris in hot pursuit frantically asking what was going on.

 

“She’s escaped, she’s at number 158,” I screeched back as I swore at the electric gates which seemed to refuse to open at any great speed.

 

“Escaped,” Chris screeched back, “how on earth could she have escaped?  None of the doors or windows are open”

 

“I don’t know,” I yelled as we ran hell for leather down the road towards 158. 

 

The poor woman at 158 was greeted by two maniacs, I think she was a little scared, demanding to know where their dog was.  “She’s gone,” she responded.

 

“GONE!” we repeated, “what do you mean gone?”  By now I knew she was scared because she took a step back.

 

“I closed the gate into the garden so she couldn’t escape, but your dog seems to have managed to climb over the gate and she’s ran off.”

 

“Ran off….climbed over the gate?” We stuttered.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured convinced by now that we were both going to physically attack her for losing our dog.  “I thought she wouldn’t be able to get out.”

 

I think we both most have stared at this woman as if she were a complete idiot, because she kept apologising most profusely.

 

“Must go and find her,” we responded and ran off down the road.  “Why on earth didn’t she just put her in a room in her house,” we demanded of each other venting our wrath on this poor lady who had only tried to help and for all we knew may have been absolutely terrified of dogs.  However, cross with ourselves for losing Noodles after only a week of having her, dreading the phone call we were going to have to make to the rescue centre if we didn’t find her, dreading even more the explanation we were going to have to give to the children, it felt a lot easier to take our angst out on some innocent bystander!

 

We ran up and down the road, calling a combination of names, one minute shouting ‘Noodles,’  the next shouting ‘Harmony.’  Now confirming in the village that the family whom they had suspected of insanity were indeed completely and utterly crazy.

 

“I’ll go back to the house,” said Chris after our searching was beginning to prove futile.  “She may have headed back there.”  Dispirited, I carried on peering into people’s gardens. 

 

After a while having had no luck, I trudged wearily back to our house resigned to the inevitable phone call I was about to have to make.  Just as I arrived at the top of our drive, I stopped and blinked.  I couldn’t believe my eyes there happily wandering along the pavement on the other side of the road was Noodles without a care in the world.  For a brief moment, I was rendered speechless here we were worried sick and she looked as if she was on a Sunday afternoon stroll.  Then as if to demonstrate how relaxed she was about this whole getting lost thing, she sat down, in a nice sunny spot, opposite our house and promptly proceeded to clean herself.  My jaw dropped open.  She didn’t even look remotely scared, did she not realise she was lost.  Not daring to call her in case she crossed the road, I sauntered casually towards her, as I arrived on the pavement she looked up, positively beamed to see me and ran up her tail wagging enthusiastically.  Well, I thought, at least she recognized me.

 

It took us weeks to work out what had happened and only because it happened again.  We discovered that when I opened the electric gates to get the post, Noodles had taken to following me.  If I wasn’t aware she had followed me as the gates automatically closed behind me I would be heading back towards the house and Noodles would still be very busy sniffing all the exciting smells on the wrong side of the gate!  Exciting smells that would lead her up the driveway to even more interesting smells!

 

PetsPartnersAndPals.co.uk

 

 

 

.