Get a dog! Get a dog! Get a dog!

At the beginning of this year we were contemplating getting a family dog.  Unsure of the idea I solicited advice from my Facebook friends.  My friend’s sister replied “Get a dog! Get a dog! Get a Dog!

 

Thanks for that Catherine.  But WHY did you keep the realities of puppy care to yourself? 

 

My family had a dog when I was a child.  I loved Blanche as I would a non-biting non-scratching sister.  She was never any trouble at all.  But of course, looking back, as I was only six when we got her I didn’t actually do much to care for her.  I can remember playing with her after school and taking her for walks in the holidays.  So who picked up the poo and what on earth did she get up to when I was at school or in the early hours of the morning when I was tucked up in bed.  I guess it’s a bit late to ask now!

 

So ‘the dog’ is here to stay.  He’s lovely really.  Most of the time.  However, he must speak English and have a keen sense of retribution.  For after my husband cursed him verbally and rued the day that he picked that cuddly little furball from the litter, the dog fell sick.  He did it to teach my husband a lesson, I’m sure.

 

After much guilt tripping and a nice fat vet’s bill the dog is on the mend.  I’m sure it was only because he was poorly that he kept us up all night.  He has no excuse though for using me as a maypole, swinging around, teeth firmly clamped to my left boot.  Maybe he’ll calm down in time.  For now, though, I'll get on with the cooking as I trail the snarling mass of dog around the kitchen floor by my ankle.  At least it saves me sweeping up!

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