It’s finally happened.
Time and circumstance have conspired to chip away at my long held
beliefs and smash those staunch opinions that I imagined I would spout until I
could spout no more.
For more than half a century both Nigel and I have been anti-dog
people. This means being mildly
irritated by the doggy chat of dog lovers; somewhat bored with the
protestations of their pooches’ personalities and utterly bewildered by the outpourings
of grief should one of these precious pets die.
In the last couple of years, however, we’ve moved from
tolerance to genuine fondness of Ellie’s and Becky’s dogs ‘Pepper’ and ‘Silva’
and have quite enjoyed having Silva about the house whilst Becky and Daz have
been staying with us. But despite the fact that these Miniature Schnauzers,
(or Disney Dogs, as Nigel calls them) are about as endearing as dogs can be, we
would never, ever actually own one!
So, how is it that there are now three dogs in our house?
Well, it all seemed like a good idea at the time…
Worried about Silva being alone during the day when they
move into their new home, Becky and Daz had decided to get another little puppy
to keep her company.
Any sensible person would have just let that happen and kept
well out of it. But no … I just had to
get involved! Whether it was the
influence of drink, middle-aged madness or the relentless bullying from my two
daughters, the temptation to surprise Nigel with an early birthday present was
just too much to resist.
In an instant, enquiries were made at Pepper and Silva’s
birthplace, and the last two puppies of the current litter were secured. Off went Ellie and Bex on their secret
mission to collect them before anybody could come to their senses!
A few hours later, two little bundles of fluff arrived
home. The bigger one, we had been
warned, was the naughty one, whereas the teeny weeny one was nice and shy. We had agreed, in our plotting, that Nigel
should be allowed to choose. Once he had
recovered from the shock, he chose the little one. Yippee!
Bex gets all the trouble and we get all the snuggles! Nigel immediately christened his puppy
‘Bodger’ and his mischievous brother was named ‘Milo’.
… And so it began…
You know when they say, “dogs are for life…” do they
actually mean that some kind of swap takes place? So, you get the dog, and the dog gets your
life? Is that how it works?
I really don’t remember being obliged to accompany our
babies into the back yard at two in the morning, huddled against the driving
rain, tiptoeing carefully amongst the slugs, only to indulge in a ridiculous
display of exuberance once the puppies had ‘performed’. This in itself would not be so bad, but as
both puppies have had the runs, our attention to toilet monitoring duties has
been interminable.
By day three, I was bog eyed, boggle brained and bogged
off. My once immaculate home was now
littered with puppy paraphernalia, and doubled as a receptacle for countless
accidents! Had it not been for Becky and
Daz – especially Daz – who had sacrificed his entire leave to puppy-sit; there
is no doubt that my sanity would have deserted me entirely.
I have been twice to the vets already and am becoming
terrifyingly aware of the dizzying array of doggy diseases and feel hopelessly
out of my depth if one of them so much as sneezes!
On meeting the rest of their doggy family it soon became
clear that not everybody was to fall instantly in love with these two
newcomers. Pepper, the matriarch of this
schnauzer brood, adamantly refused to have anything to do with these
boisterous, bothersome boys. Poor Silva,
who was instantly adopted as their surrogate mother, has been tortured with
unremitting attention. Worryingly, there
was even a point where I feared for Silva’s honour, as Milo demonstrated a
disturbingly well-developed sexual prowess for one so young! As it is, now that Silva has had the ‘op’ she
has been forced to flee this place of torment to recuperate in safety with her
sister.
Not surprisingly, Milo’s antics got the better of him and an
injured leg served to dampen his ardour.
We sighed in relief as we awaited a moment’s respite. But no, it wasn’t to be. The once timid Bodger took on the mantle of
‘devil-dog’ and set about trying to murder me with carelessly discarded toys or
by launching himself at my very tired feet.
But in spite of the sleepless nights, early mornings and my
zombie-like state of mind, the puppies playful frolicking has provided Nigel
with more entertainment than a dozen first-rate films and, once Silva and Milo
leave for their new home, he can look forward to many hours of soothing
snuggling with his new friend.
But they do sleep.
Even now. And when they do, they
are sooooooooo cute!
Over the last two weeks Nigel and I have looked at each
other many times with bemused expressions on our faces, shaking our heads in
disbelief as we have pondered on the people we have become. For here we are, indulging in the doggy chat
that once irritated us, describing our pooches’ personalities as though they
were people and understanding completely how grief-stricken we would be if
anything happened to our precious pets.
Life has a habit of
sneaking up on you and surprising you in the strangest of ways!
