Before meeting my fluffy-eared friend, I had lost my brother and was exhausted by the hamster wheel of work. His zest has made me feel alive.
My trip to South America in 2025 was something I'd been planning for a long time. I wanted to break up my mundane 9-to-5 life. Four months before I was due to leave, I broke my back and thought I might have to cancel. Luckily, I pulled through.
I was expecting breathtaking views, vibrant wildlife and memories to last a lifetime. What I wasn't expecting was to fall in love with a fluffy-eared street dog and spend four months battling bureaucracy and world travel to bring him home. But I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
A little dog with the most adorable eyes showed up at my hammock outside my cabin in Ollantaytambo, a village in the Sacred Valley in the mountains of Peru. He was skinny and alone, living on scraps to survive, but still full of excitement. He followed me around 24/7 and slept outside my room. He decided, for reasons unknown to me, that wherever I was was exactly where he wanted to be.
I called him Paddington after the famous bear and nicknamed him Paddy. He was handsome, with golden eyes, black and tan fur and half flopped-over ears. He loved to watch the world go by. But he also had a feral goblin side: he zoomied with endless delight, roaring like a laughing bear. He had so much joy for life - I knew he was special.
Before Paddy, I had been stuck. After losing my brother to suicide a few years previously, I felt I had little choice but to get back on the hamster wheel and do what was expected of me as a productive member of society. Although I was still going through the motions of living, very few things made me feel alive. I felt trapped and purposeless, with no inkling of which direction to go in next.
Then Paddy appeared, full of enthusiasm and zest for life. It tipped my life on its head, in the best way. He gave me the courage to quit my job as a scientist in biotech and change careers. I found purpose again, writing a book and working with a Peruvian rescue centre, Colitas Con Canas, based in Urubamba.
Adopting a dog from Peru is no easy task. There is a lot of red tape, a language barrier and a mountain of paperwork to complete. On our way back to the UK, we almost got stuck in Colombia - and then did get held up in France for several days before we fixed the paperwork.
The support Paddy amassed on his Instagram, @paddingtonfromperu, has allowed me to help rescue other dogs from Peru and relocate them to new homes in Europe. But, most importantly, I now always have my best friend by my side on adventures.
Paddy from Peru by Mirelle Radley (HarperCollins, £20).