It’s turning out to be a funny year, don’t you think?
I mean, it started off normal enough, with Mum putting all the sparkly decorations and cuddly Santas back in the garage. I think it’s the garage. It used to be. But Mum’s started calling it the utility. I don’t know why. I like the Santas. I like to rip their insides out. She threw the Christmas tree away this year. It was massive. Nearly touched the ceiling. Mum said it was driving her mad because there were bits missing and it stunk of damp from the garage. Sorry, I mean utility.
Then she went on holiday to somewhere hot. I didn’t mind because I got to stay at Paula and Tom’s. Paula cooks me special dinners and always gives me treats. They live upstairs, but Paula does the washing in our gar … utility … and she’s up and down a lot. I always come downstairs with her just to check that Mum’s not hiding from me in our place. I can still smell her, you see.
Well, she came back, like she always does. I don’t know why I worry so much. Mum says I’ve got issues. And then the weather started getting nicer and suddenly, everything got weird.
The tele was on all the time. A man with fluffy white hair was telling everybody what to do. He didn’t look very well.
Chilli stopped coming. Ellie used to bring her every day and the three of us would go on our walk, while Ellie went to work. Me and Chilli played all day until Danny came to collect her. Apparently, Ellie has to work from home now. So, I’ve nobody to play with. I miss Chilli. And I haven’t seen Milo – he’s my brother - and Silva for yonks because Becky and Daz are stuck somewhere and not allowed to come and visit. I miss them too. Craig used to come every day and talk to Mum while he had a cup of tea. But we don’t see him much now and when he does call, he stays in the garden and won’t have a cup of tea because he says he doesn’t want to give Mum something horrible that will make her die. He says a lot of people are dying.
Mum’s been doing a lot of cleaning. She’s even sorted out the doggy cupboard – washed all my harnesses and coats and put my treats into special plastic boxes. And, believe it or not, I’ve got a new toy box. I’m sure Mum will get me some toys to put in it soon.
She started doing strange things on the floor every day. Well, maybe not every day. Stuff like lifting her legs up in the air and trying to sit up. She was making scary noises and I tried to help her. It didn’t work so I licked her face instead. I think she was pleased.
Our walks have been much longer than they used to be. Mum always used to say ‘good morning’ to people we met on our walks. Especially if they had a dog too. But people have started crossing the road when they see us coming. Maybe they don’t like Mum’s smell. It must be that. I don’t care – I bark at them. But not Joe. I love Joe. Joe’s a Labrador and Mum says I fell in love with him at first sight. I’m not, like, well – you know – I’m not anything anymore. Not since they had my bits taken off. Since they had me, what’s the word? Neutralised.
I spend most of my time on the back of the settee, looking out of the window onto the square. It’s my job to guard the house and bark at everybody and everything that walks past. Us schnauzers are excellent guard dogs. It’s been a bit boring this year though. The square is usually full of kids playing. Sometimes there’s a bouncy castle and families have barbecues and parties. But nothing much at all has happened for ages. One morning there was a lady doing something. Yoga, Mum said. I think the lady was trying to copy my morning stretch when I push my front legs forward and stick my bum in the air. I do it better than she did.
A big fat dog with a matching owner walk round the square twice a day. I think that’s the only walk it gets. Then there’s that horrible cat. Marmalade, Mum calls it. It has the nerve to come in our garden sometimes, but mostly, it wanders into the square like it owns the place. Should be spread on a piece of toast if you ask me.
Dogs aren’t allowed in the square. I think that’s why the cat looks at me so cockily.
Anyway, Dad took me in there once. He was always doing naughty stuff was Dad. Mum called him a bugger. He loved this square. Somehow, he always knew which tree would be the first to get its leaves. He would park his chair thing, that moved on its own, in the bay and let me sit on his knee. If it was cold outside but the sun was shining through the window it was exactly like sun-bathing. He always fell asleep. But I looked after him. Kept guard. One day that bloody Marmalade turned up and I barked so much Dad nearly bounced out of his chair. I didn’t get to sit on his knee after that. I don’t know where he is now. He’s been gone for a long time.
I’ve been groomed! First time in months, although it feels like years to me. I’m glad, I thought I was going blind. Mum’s had her hair cut too and she says things are starting to get back to normal. Or, the new normal. Whatever that means. We’ve had gatherings. Becky and Daz have been back home with Milo and Silva and we have met up for walks on the beach. All the family has been together again at last. We’ve had fun and been happy. We’ve even been to the pub.
But things are not quite like they used to be. The man with the fluffy white hair says we still have to be careful. Everybody has to wash their hands a lot, wear masks and stay away from each other. ‘Hands, face, space,’ is how you remember it, says Mum. Craig’s got a black mask with a big yellow smiley mouth on it. He looks really odd, especially when his eyes are angry. Mum’s got flowers on hers.
Mum won’t leave me outside a shop anymore in case some thieving bastard comes along and steals me, she says. I’m precious, she says. Not that Mum goes to the shop much. A man usually brings everything to our house.
Things have changed again. The man has made a new rule. Rule of Six. Mum got really cross the other day. What’s the point of six when there’s around fourteen of us at Christmas time? She says he might just as well cancel Christmas.
‘Pan-fucking-demic!’ she said.
I’ve never heard that word before – demic.
I wonder if she’ll bother getting a new Christmas tree? Or if the Santas will come out of the utility? I hope it isn’t cancelled, because it’s not just the cuddly Santas in the utility. That’s where Mum keeps all the leftover food. And all the beer and wine. Somebody always gets drunk and forgets to close the door - and Chilli – she’s the brave one – sneaks in and grabs whatever she can. Last year we had a whole gammon!
Oh, it’s got worse. Nobody is allowed to go to anybody else’s house. It’s banned. But it’s OK for Paula to still come to ours, I heard Mum say, because we don’t live in a house. We live in a bubble. I didn’t know that. But Mum can’t go to Craig, Ellie or Becky’s house and they can’t come to us.
Mum’s on her own a lot now. So am I. Our bubble is very quiet. She doesn’t have the television on anymore. She says she can’t stand it. She sits for hours at her lap top thing. It’s not too bad because I have a nice bed behind her chair and she keeps talking to me. I’m lucky, I’ve got three beds. One behind her chair where we spend a lot of the day, one in the kitchen where Mum drinks wine in the evenings, and the big one in our new room - the room that used to be Dad’s. I remember he spent almost all his time in that room. When he was poorly. It’s ours now. Sometimes I think I can still smell him.
I think Mum can too.
