Authors: Marie Yates
I was in top set for almost everything in my old school. I’d quite like that to be the same in the new school. I admit that Maths and French are not my strong subjects; I guess I’ve only ever done enough to get by, but I do okay in everything else. I have no great desire to go to France, or have a career that involves simultaneous equations, so I’m not too worried. I just have to get a ‘C’ or above in Maths and I’ll get into sixth form. I know that everyone says that there’s a lot of pressure in GCSE year and the new school did bang on about how much catching up there would be, but I just don’t feel pressure in the same way. I want to do well, I want to go to sixth form and I want to eventually go to Uni, but I just don’t get stressed anymore. That might change when I actually start this school year but, right now, I know that if I do the work, do my best and nothing scary happens, I’ll be okay. I’ve certainly gained some perspective if nothing else.
I didn’t think I’d be willingly doing schoolwork in the summer holidays, but it’s keeping me occupied. As much as I hate the Maths and the History of Medicine is quite disgusting to read about it is keeping my inner tube pumped up. I don’t have time to worry about going back to the duvet days when I need to find out how Karl Koller discovered that cocaine could be used as a local anaesthetic in eye surgery. I am almost interested. Mum’s been doing some preparation work for her new job too, so we
have tried not to get on each other’s nerves too much. I like to work with my music on, but Mum needs complete silence. We compromised and I turned my music down and shut my bedroom door, and then while she made lunch, I blasted it out at full volume. We’ve yet to meet our neighbours, I hope they weren’t in. I got quite a lot of work done even if it was mostly cocaine related and feel like I’m getting myself prepared. It’s really the only thing within my control.
What is completely out of my control is every other aspect of the new school. I don’t know what the other kids will be like, what the teachers will be like or whether the reason I moved here will come back to haunt me. I feel myself getting scared when I think about those things. An ache starts at the bottom of my stomach and rises into my chest; I go cold and then feel my palms getting sweaty. Is that normal? At the moment I’m happily cocooned in my new little life. Just me and Mum in our fab new house looking forward to the arrival of Reggie when our peaceful existence will be shattered! It is scary to think that it’s not long until I have to venture out into the real world again. Just the thought of it has made my stomach start aching again. Starting a new school and facing all those people won’t be easy. I wonder if I’ll fit in. It’s been a very long time since I made friends. I went to secondary school with the same group of people I was in primary school with, so it was very easy. I don’t really remember making friends with anyone else, it just sort of happened. I should have taken more notice but it was just too easy. We were all in the same position with being annoying year sevens trying to readjust to being the youngest when only a few weeks earlier we’d ruled our school.
This time it will just be me. Everyone else will have their friendship groups and I’ll be the new kid without any idea what to do or where to go! Great! For now though, there’s no point ruining the rest of my summer holiday worrying about that. I can do without the sweaty palms. It certainly can’t be any worse that
the first day I walked back in to my old school after everyone had found out about the rape. It looked the same: grey, old and with the usual peeling paintwork. It smelt the same, the usual smell of ‘school dinners’ coming from the canteen regardless of the time of day and it sounded the same: loud. It just didn’t feel the same. I just wanted to shout from the rooftops that I was the same person. I hadn’t changed and they didn’t have to look away from me. That was when I first noticed I had the ache in my stomach when I was scared. I’d never been nervous about school before, never really been nervous about anything. Was it my imagination that the loud hum of laughing and chatting got quieter as I walked through the gates? Were people looking in my direction and then looking away as I caught their gaze? I honestly think that a couple of the teachers avoided looking me in the eye, which made me feel particularly special! I thought they’d be able to act normally even if the rest of the students couldn’t. As if I wasn’t nervous enough. However, I also walked through the school gates expecting everyone to treat me differently, so who knows if that actually happened or I just saw what I was looking for. For all I know, the kids were probably just chatting and never usually looked in my direction anyway, and the teachers were just busy being teachers! Being the anonymous new kid will be a breeze!
He’s here, Reggie is here! As I write, he is sound asleep on the living room floor and it feels like he has always been part of our family. Although, the living room doesn’t look quite as big as it did yesterday, and there are already slobber marks on the windows from where he has been checking out the view. Mum is thrilled about the windows. Hmmm!
Even though Mum keeps saying that she’s getting the dog for me, blah, blah, blah, she was up earlier than I was and had packed everything we needed to collect Reggie before the rehoming centre had even opened. I saw her reading through the books last night too, just in case we were given some sort of exam.
We were half an hour early to meet Bev, but I think she expected it as she was ready for us and didn’t seem to mind. We were welcomed like old friends as I guess she must be used to people like us trying to remain calm whilst actually wanting to just run in and take our new friend home. Mum wouldn’t stop talking about everything she had read and how we have everything ready for him. If I wasn’t so excited I would have been embarrassed. Bev explained to us that he would be going for his final check over with their vet in the next half an hour. That meant we had half an hour to play with him if we wanted to. That is possibly the most stupid question we have ever been asked! We waited not very patiently, and Reggie came bounding out to us. He looked so handsome and had obviously been brushed in preparation for his big day. He wouldn’t stay still long enough for us to stroke him so we opted for ball throwing instead. Turns out I’m not great at throwing the ball very far.
The appointment with the vet went really well despite a small challenge trying to encourage a giant dog onto weighing scales when the last thing he wanted to do was sit. Reggie was signed
off with a clean bill of health. That was a relief! He couldn’t get out of there fast enough and certainly wasn’t as emotional as Bev about the fact he was leaving. She cried as we took him to the car and Reggie didn’t even look back. He jumped in the boot without us even having to ask, and panted all the way home. I couldn’t stop looking at him and had to keep telling Mum to look at the road! She just kept staring at him through the rear view mirror.
When we got home he dribbled water all over the kitchen floor, had a quick bite to eat and knocked Mum’s entire collection of cook books off the cabinet in the kitchen with one swoosh of his giant tail. We tried to get him to lie on his bed like Bev had shown us. He did it perfectly at the rehoming centre, but that was obviously just a ploy to get us to believe he was well behaved! He lay on his bed for all of three seconds and then went off exploring the house.
He didn’t get far as Mum had closed all the doors to the rooms he wouldn’t be allowed in, which was most of them! He was as excited as we were, I think. Mum gave me the full lecture about starting the way we wanted to go on with Reggie, and that he needed to know who was boss. Apparently, that’s her and not me! She used her best ‘mum voice’ and demanded that Reggie sat down and then lay down on his bed. I don’t know who was more surprised…Reggie, that he wasn’t top dog or Mum, that her command had worked. Either way, Reggie was on his bed and looking at Mum for his next instruction. He was thrilled that the next command involved sitting down for his lead to be put back on and he definitely understood the word ‘walkies’!
Taking Reggie out on his first family walk was an experience. We decided not to let him off the lead until we had spent more time at home practising his recall. After the drama we’d had in the kitchen we weren’t convinced he’d remember his name, let alone come back to us when we called it! Bev told us that he pulled on the lead a bit so advised us to get a Halti – it’s something that goes around his muzzle (nose!) to help stop him
pulling. With seven stone of powerful dog, it’s amazing how much that little Halti helps. We walked for about two hours and Reggie was amazing. He stayed close to us, was obedient when we needed to cross the roads, and even gently approached another dog to say ‘hello’! We won’t dwell on the obvious down side involving the shared responsibility of the poo bags, but Mum is sticking to her guns on that one.
I have literally never been happier.
We are now all exhausted as the excitement of the day is turning into tiredness. Mum and I are half watching a film, but can’t stop looking at Reggie sprawled out on the living room floor surrounded by toys and treats, like he owns the place. He is gorgeous. Every few minutes he wakes up and looks at one of us as if he’s just checking we’re still here. The slightest move we make means he looks up to see what’s happening. I hope he’ll settle and realise that he’s here for good. I hope he will feel as safe with us as we feel with him! It’s not that I consciously don’t feel safe here, but I will go to bed tonight feeling more secure than I have in a long time.
I can’t believe Reggie has been here a week already! The time is flying by and I have done absolutely no schoolwork and haven’t written in my journal either. I’ve been having too much fun! Although I did learn the hard way that not everything about having a dog is fun. On the first night he was here, I went to bed feeling on top of the world. What could be safer than a home with a giant dog? Well…I was sound asleep, so was Mum. Reggie was in the kitchen. Nothing on earth could have prepared me for the fear I felt when he started barking at 3.46am. I was literally frozen in my bed. Surely no dog would make that amount of noise for nothing and I was convinced that there must have been someone in the house. I couldn’t even make myself get out of bed to check if Mum was okay. While I was trying to talk myself into a more rational state, Mum rushed into my room apologising. She had rolled over in bed and her book had fallen on the floor, waking Reggie. I cannot even begin to describe how loud that bark was and how ferocious he sounded. It took at least another half an hour for my heart rate to return to normal.
Other than that little setback, living with Reggie is brilliant. I have never been more motivated to get up in the morning. Mum and I are still taking him together and he’s getting really good at coming back when we call him. There have been a couple of scary moments when something much more interesting has diverted his attention, and he has sped off in the opposite direction. One was a squirrel, which we understood, but the other turned out to be a plastic bag blowing in the wind! He has made friends with other dogs, which meant Mum and I have been meeting people too. It’s weird to think that I hadn’t actually talked to anyone except Mum since we moved here! We have become part of a little dog walking community, which is strangely friendly. Some dog walkers have been a little unsure when Reggie has been running
at full speed towards them, but thankfully he’s always stopped just before he has been close enough to knock anyone over! He is really gentle with other dogs and that has made life a lot easier as we are trying to be accepted!
Getting to know Reggie is a real learning curve and it’s obvious that he’s had a rough start in life. We were all in the kitchen yesterday and Mum stretched her arm over Reggie to reach into the cupboard above where he was sitting. He flinched as if he thought she was going to hit him. I immediately went to stroke him but Mum stopped me, saying that the book said we mustn’t reward him when he does that as he’ll think it is okay. He needs to learn that he’s safe and that he will never be hurt by us. That was really difficult for me as all I wanted to do was comfort him! I felt so angry that someone could have done that to Reggie. I knew a little bit about the things that had happened to him but I wasn’t prepared for seeing how it still affected him. I guess I naïvely thought that now he was in a happy home he’d forget all about what happened. Stupid hey?! I’m in a happy home and I haven’t forgotten what happened to me either.
I think Mum read my mind as she handed me a cuppa and said that she will never forget how she felt when I told her that I had been raped. Her eyes welled up as she said that it’s a mother’s worst nightmare that someone would hurt her child. She had never said that me before, and whilst I obviously know that it had a profound impact on her, I didn’t realise the anger she must have felt on top of everything she was feeling for me. She said that she is grateful every day that I told her and even admitted that she felt proud of herself as a mum that she had raised me in such a way that meant I could go to her. Yet she would never forget the intensity of feelings that she experienced when I told her what had happened. I had absolutely no idea how she must have felt. I didn’t cross my mind for a second that I couldn’t go to her about what had happened to me. I literally ran to her. When Reggie cowered, I had a small insight into how
she must have felt. It’s instinctive. I just wanted to protect him and make everything better. Mum wanted to do that for me too and yet nobody can.
Just like with Reggie. We can’t take away what has happened to him, but we can do everything in our power to make sure he is looked after, make sure he is happy and that he knows he is safe with us. As I looked at Reggie, his tail was wagging and he was clearly over his moment of feeling frightened! I needed to take a lesson from him in getting over my scared moments. He just seems to be able to do it so quickly whereas I’d spend half the day trying to talk myself around. It’s just tough when I am feeling pretty good and then something happens to burst the bubble. That happens instantly but doesn’t work so well the other way around. I still have my bracelet on and have plenty of things to keep me positive; I just need to work on speeding up the process.