Skip to main content

Puppy love...

Words from a Bird.  Day 31

Having made the decision that we were going to add to the family with another four legged fuzzball, it was down to me to cut through the dreadful puppy farmers which seem to be on every corner now, and find an Kennel Club assured breeder.

Percy came from one such breeder 5 minutes walk from us, but this time we had to go further afield to find the right dog. 

Of course, once the offspring knew we were heading off to choose a puppy, they all wanted to come with us. 

Daughter number 1: 'I'm coming with you' (Determination)
Son number 1: 'I'd like to come with you' (Optimism)
Daughter number 2: 'Me and James are coming' (Determination again, but with a dash of terrible grammar)
Son number 2: 'I'd like to come, and so would Lucy, but I might be working' (Optimism, rapidly followed by thinly veiled disappointment)

So the husband was calculating how many cars would be needed to transport the whole tribe plus friends down to Bath.  However, as the week drew to a close, one by one, the desire choose a puppy was overtaken by other activities.  Daughter number 1 chose to play netball, (or 'Stuck in the Mud with a Ball' as her cousin chooses to dismiss it with.  Son number 1 decided to have the **** kicked out of him on a muddy rugby pitch.  Daughter number 2, who I was convinced would be tagging along, went off to watch daughter number 1 play netball, then hauled her boyfriend around the shops (she'll learn, and so will he), and son number 2 was working (his job is the only one I can think off where you don't have to wear underwear to perform well....)

In the end, it was just the husband and me, as it probably should have been all along. 

Looking at the perfect little doggy family (mum, dad, six pups) it was almost impossible to pick just one (I did try and push for a couple more, but to the husband's evident relief, they were sold).  But in the end we chose the squeakiest one with the waggiest tale who was the most lively and a high achiever where the food source was concerned.

I can see elements of all of our children in him. 

He could be trouble...


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I can't stand the rain...

The bloody rain's back then...
I suppose that this is a blessing of some sorts as it means that my hosepipe will get a well earned weekend off, and the flowers won't be looking at me through the kitchen window, wondering whether there will be any chance of me getting off my derriere and giving them a drink sometime before the next millennium.  Talking of watering flowers, I haven't had any feedback from Mrs B next door as to the complete transformation of her front garden while she's been away.  I would imagine that after two glamorous weeks away, that she will have more than enough washing to do, and perhaps hasn't had the opportunity to do a full horticultural inspection as yet.
I finally got round to cleaning Charlie out yesterday afternoon. Armed with a bin liner and some sweet smelling multi surface cleaner, I gingerly opened the door.  Oh dear Lord....it is amazing just how much detritus eight adults can make over five and a half hours, and I soon realised that…

In da club...

Boy was I glad to see the end of this week.  What with the football, the weeping colleagues (just the male ones as the female variety were quite cock-a-hoop) and the incessant watering of myself as well as the allotment, my garden, and a neighbour's garden (a greenhouse, thirty tubs, four cacti, seven bowls of hedgehog water and a scoop of mealworms each day....in the hottest fortnight on record).  Throw into the mix some rather frustrating conversations with someone who shall go unnamed, I was very glad to leave Binland on Friday afternoon.
But there have been good things too.  And isn't that what life is about?  There's no point having good things if you don't have the bad to compare them to.
I spent a lovely two hours with the Mother on Thursday discussing plants, allotments and beetroot, and I'd like to think that the highlight of her afternoon was digging up a couple to take home for her dinner that night. Or maybe it was the contraband tomato I smuggled out …

I'm walking...

Having been knocked flattish by a sore throat and all of its accompanying delights, I was quite anxious as to whether I'd be able to rally for Schnauzerfest yesterday.  I'd pulled out all the stops with cakes and dog biscuits, and was desperate to do my favourite good cause justice.  

But oh happy day... I woke up yesterday feeling quite normal (stop laughing, you know what I mean) and I loaded the car and drove to Wittenham Clumps (yes, it's a real place!) Getting there early with Miss R and Mrs S we gave the dogs a quick walk before all the other walkers turned up.  The sky, which had been threatening an apocalypse, finally decided to show its good side, and the sun shone as we got ready for everyone else to turn up. 

Now I have been doing some serious whistle training with my two for the past month or so.  This basically means blowing a whistle and shaking a bag of cheese cubes, and I was optimistic about finally letting my two off so that they could run free with the res…