My first pets

I arrived in the UK to start my new life on the 10th October 1992. I had shipped most of my furniture beforehand and just loaded the car with the things you can't do without - not even for a week or so. It might be worth mentioning at this point that I hardly did speak any english - the little I could remember from school wasn't going to get me through. And as my teacher pointed once out to me "you just don't understand this, you will never be able to speak english". Great!
On my way from Dover to London using the motorway I saw the sign "No hard shoulder" which I passed on many occassions. It remained a mystery for quite some time - till I was actually able to ask anyone. We learned in school about the London buses, men wearing suits wearing an umbrella. Oh yes and standing nicely in a queue. But no hard shoulder.
I arrived in London early morning and moved into one amazing flat direct on the River Thames. The flat had two floors whereas the master bedroom (another word I slowly got used to) was beneath the waterlevel during high tide. I was living in that flat for a year and I can't remember one day where I didn't prey for the walls not to fall down. I experienced the first time in my life the meaning of "fog" as it was so thick you really couldn't see anything. But it was such a beautiful flat and to my delight, also had quite a few colourful neighbours who livened daily life up to no end.
But this part of the city was sparse with parks and places to walk and I had my heart set on having a dog. This now sounds very silly, but the Ceasar advert with this cute Westhighland Terrier did it for me. Not at any stage in my life before have I even been remotely interested in cats or dogs or any other pet. Because the dog which I eventually would have, needs to go for walkies, I moved to West London, Osterley to be precise and quite opposite the Osterley Park. Now I could find a dog. I had heard about Battersea Dogs Home and one day I went there to find my dog. It's a very large building and there are so many dogs that makes it very hard to decide on one. Most dogs are quite large and I was looking for a smaller one. And there he was, in the last cage of course, about 7 months old and together with his brother. They had been found wandering the streets of London all on their own just 14 days earlier. And although they both looked alike for me one of them was different and this was the one I choose.
After home visits and checks I finally got my dog which I called "Tigger". This was a totally appropriate name for him. He was the most sweetest little thing anyone can imagine.
Our first walk together into Osterley Park was a new adventure for the both of us and as he got tired because I walked too far, I carried him home. I knew there was a good reason for having a small dog.
"Tigger" changed my life completely. As I was working from home it was very easy to look after him. When I went to teach my seminars, "Tigger" just came as well. He usually planted himself in the centre of the group and just slept there. In 1995 I gave up on the seminars and instead enrolled on a 2 year business seminar at the College which was just a few corners from my flat. Tigger spend the first time since we lived together for a few hours a day all by himself. Mind you, not without howling to let all of the neighbours know how upset he was. Then there came the dreadful Friday evening where he chased after a fox and broke his ligaments. All I heard was a scream and at that moment I thought that the fox might have bitten him. As it was very dark I was unable to see him first till he came closer and I noticed that he was limbing. This was our first major incident and I guess I was as distressed as Tigger. The vet advised to keep him calm and come to see him in the morning. There we learned the truth that Tigger had done a "Gasgoigne" as the vet put it. In reality it meant that he had broken his ligament and needed an operation. As it was Saturday that had to wait till Monday but thanks to an injection and loving tender care and attention we made it through the weekend.
With the help of a neighbour Tigger was lifted in the car. Tigger was just like any other male, very sensitive when it comes to pain and how much you can take of it. I did promise him that after the operation he would be fine. But far from it. Although the operation went well he still was in a lot of pain. He had already all the painkillers he could have but I found myself ringing the vet in the middle of the night asking what to do because quite obviously he still was in a lot of pain. I tried to make him as comfortable as posssible by putting him on a heap of cushions but really it was no big help. So I searched the Internet in the hope I could find a bed that was helpful but there wasn't anything that was designed for that purpose. Which is why I invented the heated Waterbeds for Pets. The first prototype was tested by Tigger and it really did make a difference as there were no pressure points on his leg anymore. Even the vet was surprised how much difference it had made.
After many prototypes later I had a workable product and I started a company selling the Waterbeds.
When Tigger did feel a bit better I wanted to take him to the park to meet his friends as I was worried that he was getting a bit depressed. But how do you do this? he can't walk. I bought a pushchair, took the seat off and made a bed for Tigger in the lower part for the shopping. He just loved it. Now we could get to the park. I'm sure you can imagine the comments from people when we first time walked the streets. Most of it was very humerous although there is of course always one....
As we knew each other very well sign language worked very well between us. He would let me know when he needed to get to a tree and I drove him there, helped him out of his chair and after the event helped him back in it. Not once in all the months we used it did he just jump out - oh no he always let me know when he wanted to get off - even when he was much better and could actually walk again - for a long time he did not leave the house without that push chair. Only once we had arrived in the park did he consent to actually walk and got back into it when we left the park.
A year later he broke the other side by running after a squirrel. But this time, thanks to the waterbed, his recovery was much quicker and thank god we still had the push chair.
When Channel 4 made a film about the waterbeds Tigger starred in it by showing off his skills jumping in and out of the push chair.