Living alone, it's been said, is tantamount to keeping bad company.
The mind has a tendency to over think when a person living alone spends too much time observing and analysing life, rather than participating in it. When the personal dialogue becomes too loud, it's tempting to think you have finally gone mad.
And thatÃÂ pretty much sums up my life up to this point.
Evenings were usually the worst. After a day of activity at work, talking to colleagues, answering phones and generally being busy, the end of the day would fall away into an unnatural silence at home. The biggest problem with living alone was simply that there was no one to talk to. Sometimes, whole weekends would pass without a word being spoken. Spit has this strange way of crackling when you open your mouth to yawn when you haven't uttered a word for a couple of days.
So, in order to remain rational and hold on to my sanity, IÃÂve come to the resolution that I should perhaps adopt a pet of some kind, and being a dog loving fanatic during most of my teenage years, that would in all probability be the sensible choice.
The next step was where.
Sure, I could easily head down to the local pet store and select an incredibly cute puppy, but I couldnÃÂt bring myself to do so. Images of RSPCA ads started playing through my mind like a lengthy wave of warnings. It was notifying me that there are abandoned animals out there searching for the exact same love and companionship that I had longed for.
The next day, relaxing in front of my laptop after long hours of work, I felt motivated to go ahead with this ridiculous plan. I clicked onto Google and enthusiastically typed in...