Stories

Somewhere between Belgium and Spain, our lives took a different direction. Quite literally, to begin with. South.

We arrived here together, with our dogs and our belongings. What we couldn’t quite imagine then was how much room this Spanish chapter would have for new stories. And how many of those stories would come with four paws.

A house with a large garden turned out to be an excellent idea.

Although opinions differ about who actually owns that garden. We pay the bills. The dogs use it. They consider this a remarkably fair division of responsibilities.

And so we built a life here. Vincent works from home. I paint, read and try to make my Spanish sound a little less adventurous. We walk the dogs when it isn’t too hot, enjoy having people around our table and appreciate the life we’ve found here. That sounds rather idyllic, but… There is still dog hair to remove from the sofa… And then again… And again…

La Casa Vagabundo didn’t begin with a business plan, a board meeting or someone saying, “We really ought to think about our market position.”

There was Gepetto. Our old, slightly rickety, somewhat opinionated little dog with his limp. The sort of dog people might look at and think: how sweet… but who would still give a dog like that a home?

Well, we would. With his gentle pace and quiet presence, he showed us how much happiness there can be in caring for an older dog. Together on the sofa. A blanket. A deep sigh that seemed to suggest the service was satisfactory. For now.

Gepetto didn’t have to become a different dog. He was allowed to be simply Gepetto. When we had to let him go, he left an enormous emptiness behind. But also an idea that refused to go away… What if there were a place for dogs like him? The old ones. The vulnerable ones. The dogs who attract less attention, even though they still have so much to give.

That was where La Casa Vagabundo found its heart: a home for grey muzzles. Here, life revolves around soft beds, good food, care tailored to each dog and time to settle in. Sometimes, it also revolves around sausages.

Eliseo can confirm that sausages make a valuable contribution to mutual understanding.

We get to know our dogs as they are. One seeks company; another needs a little distance first. Some relax as soon as they find their bed. Others still need to discover that an outstretched hand can mean something kind. And we learn alongside them. To be patient. To look more closely. To recognise a small moment that isn’t really small at all. A dog lying down, truly relaxed, for the first time. Taking a tentative step closer. Falling asleep and apparently deciding that we can take over guard duty for a while. That makes us happy.

And now a new chapter begins here From now on, this is where we want to share stories about our life in Spain. About the dogs, my paintings, the lovely days and the days when it’s wise to make coffee first. You’ll find warmth here. Some sadness now and then, because that, too, is part of life with senior dogs. And above all, humour. With so many characters under one roof, fresh material arrives daily.

La Casa Vagabundo has become our home, with everything that comes with it. The love. The worries. The grey muzzles and, of course, our own little Vagabundos too. And all those sofas, which we’re fairly sure were originally supposed to have room for two humans as well.

We remain hopeful.