Dog Houses, Rose Tinted Glasses and Other Failed Experiments

Lucy is well and truly in the dog house.

And I've decided that this is the last time that we - and by we I mean me - will be dog sitting for someone again.

It breaks my heart and makes me feel very sad to say that but I have to stick to it.  In part it does have a great deal to do with the following;

1. Lucy has peed on our carpet
2. Embarrassed and disgusted me by eating poop 
3. Kept we awake 2 nights on the run barking, pacing around/licking/chewing parts of herself
4. L thinks he might be slightly allergic to dog now as well as massively allergic to cat
5. Scratched our new leather arm chair peering out of the window for us

But mostly I've reached this decision because today she scared the life out of me by running off and not coming back.  She just disappeared.

I searched and called and whistled for her for well over an hour.  I rang L tearful and stressed and upset because I couldn't find her.

I was terrified that something bad had happened to her and it broke my heart.  Someone, friends of ours had entrusted us with the care and love of their dog, their rescue dog  a valentines present from one to the other and I had lost her.  I had left her off her lead trusting her and my own capability to look after her and got it horribly wrong.

But then she came home and found me, tail between her legs - when it wasn't wagging glad to see me and hopeful I wasn't too angry - ears pulled back, covered in mud and stinky stagnant water, breaking my heart with relief.

I was so angry with her I didn't know whether to scream at her and smack her or pat and pet her.  I settled for hosing her down with cold water in the garden and locking out there until I couldn't put up her whining and barking or until I thought the neighbours had probably had enough. 

Now she's in her basket and there will be no treats, no cuddles and certainly no coming off the lead again.

The point is Lucy isn't ours.  It doesn't matter that she came back home and found me.  The real issue is I lost her.  I took her out and I lost her.  Dogs will be dogs and they will run off, eat rubbish - or poop in Lucy's case - have little accidents and try to get away with getting up on the furniture.  I've had a dog before so I know all that, but its different when they are yours; for a start you are permitted to be a tad blasé about it all.

Lucy has her own routine and things that she is used to being able to do/get away with, things that I'm not aware of and its not just Lucy who is like this either, all dogs are.  All dogs have their own personalities and their own quirks and their own routines.  Who are we to impose our routine on her and to expect her to fit in?  We aren't her owners, we aren't the ones who love her and provide for her on a regular basis.  We are just temporary.

So, despite it breaking my heart to make this decision, despite knowing I am giving up being able to lavish a dog with attention and love the way that I really want to and the dog sitting is the only way that I can do this - because of us moving around, now L's allergy to them, the unfairness of us both being out of the house all day - it is one I'm going to stick to and my mind is made up.  Initially it had seemed the perfect solution; we got to appease my incessant hoping that L would walk through the door with a puppy for me, it fitted in with our life style and we got to help people out who would otherwise have had to place their beloved dog in kennels. Now I can see how deluded I was, how silly I was that its time to take off the rose tinted glasses.  The experiment was fun while it lasted and I am heart broken to think that I'm not going to have another furry friend in the house not even our own - especially as L appears to be allergic - but I believe its time to let go of the illusion of this being perfect solution. 

I'll enjoy what is left of our 2 weeks with Lucy but as I wave her off for the last time it will be with the knowledge she will be the last dog we have.

Lucy, Muddy Water, Treats and Soft Snoring

I'm dog sitting Lucy for 2 weeks.

We're not quite sure what she is, maybe 80% Labrador and 20% we have no idea but I suspect its Staffordshire Bull Terrier.

Last night took a bit of getting used to for both of us; Lucy in a new environment and me with a dog pacing around, up and down etc.  It wasn't that she made a lot of noise I was just paranoid that she wasn't settling in well, so every sound woke me because I thought she was upset.

Today was a first day alone together and I love her already.

We went for a 2 mile run together followed by a mile long back through a copse.  Lucy found the dirtiest muddiest stream to drink from (yuck) and to wade through to cool off, so I had to hose her down when we got back.  That was after I had spent 10 minutes chasing her around the garden, I honestly have no idea how she can prefer dirty muddy cold water to cold water from the hose???  She was happy with the rub down after though.  Then she had a crazy 15 minutes tearing around the garden with her rope toy (that I bought her yesterday) and banging into my legs.

A little later we went for a walk together to the shops, I bought her some treats.  I know Luke will just shake his head and not be too impressed that I'm getting so attached but I can't help it: I love her.

And I know she's not mine and I have to give her back in two weeks but for the moment I'm enjoying listening to her snoring softly in her bed.  Looking adorable.

All in a Day's Work....

The day isn't quite over but it's been an exceptional day to say the least, day of firsts and some very surprising events....

My CRB clearance finally came through so I am good to volunteer at the local primary school.  Boy is that a relief - I knew there wouldn't be anything to find but I felt like it was taking so long and my imagination went off on trip and conjured up all manner of things, like human error resulting in someone inputting a crime on my file rather than on the right person's just because our names happened to be spelt similar.  Or someone having stolen my identity and then going on a crime spree... I'm sure you get the picture.

I was sparring with L in the garage with gloves on and I fractured his nose!  I know I can't believe it either and I feel absolutely awful...and more than a little bit afraid of my own strength and temper.  The ironic thing is I held back on that punch.  I actually meant to just clip him round the head to let him know he had let his guard drop - like he does to me - but he moved his head up and I caught his nose instead.

My name is in PRINT AS AN EDITOR!!! I feel so pleased with myself and with this achievement anyone would think it was my novel having been published.

So, to conclude:  1 surprise and 2 reasons to grin like an idiot.  Not bad for a day's work, I suppose

My Name in Print

I just want to take a moment and say... I finally have my name in print!!!!

The book I edited for a friend has gone on sale on amazon and barnes and noble.

Okay so its not my name on the cover and its not my book or my story but still I have been named as the editor and for me that is enough.  For the moment.

For those who are interested in taking a look its 'Golden Arrows' by John Chelson.

Wednesday Wonderings

Not much has been going on between my ears lately...

When we're going to get a summer?  Rain is getting boring.

Why as soon as I clean something does L have to dirty it/use it?

Why, for a person who is actually quite a healthy eater, I can't get L to eat a variety of veg?  Peppers, tomatoes (I know they are a fruit), onions - in fact anything predominantly Mediterranean he'll eat but anything else I suggest....

If its too precious to say I dislike always being the one to empty the dishwasher?

If L notices the irony in whinging that I left my potting fork at the back of the garden for about 2 weeks and the fact he's left a paint brush on the patio for about a week now?

If it really is a good idea that I signed up for karate lessons?  Because its not like being a 5ft woman with a preexisting hormone problem doesn't make me naturally aggressive does it?

When my letter telling me if I've got my CRB clearance is going to arrive?

Good Day, Bad Day and Hundred Things in Between

I have a feeling today is going to be one of those days!

I woke  up really tired and foggy headed. 
I ache from taking my anger and frustration out on the punch bag yesterday. 
The weighing scales are being mean and telling me I've put on a couple of kgs.  Not even lbs but kgs!!
The weather is dire.
I'm stressed waiting for CRB clearance.  So much hinges upon it and although I know I haven't been a bad girl I am still apprehensive.
I've hit another brick wall in writing my novel.

Needless to say I'm feeling a tad on the grumpy stompy stompy side of things.  I just hope my day doesn't go from one of those days into a bad day in which I head straight for the jar of Nutella armed with a frown and a spoon.

Wednesday Wonderings

I've been incredibly busy lately, not just finding things to do so that I won't notice the gap that K and her little ones leaving has left in my heart and my life, but also organising other bits and pieces too.

I think...things...are...slowly...coming...together...but don't quote me on that.



To get to the point and stop rambling here's what's been on my mind of late;

Why despite years of evolution, the suffragette movement and various other women's rights movements women the WORLD over are still complaining about the same things when it comes to men?  Toilet seat arrangement, who's turn it is to get up with the kids, why they can't empty the dishwasher, put every one's clothes away...etc, etc

Why I bothered to prune roses from the garden and attempted to artfully arrange them Monday?  By the time I had finished freaking out about the 5 or so earwigs and the snail I found in them I really didn't want the roses nor their inhabitant creatures anywhere near my house let alone in a vase in my front room!

What chance I have of the bed making fairy making an appearance and seeing to my bed for me today?

Why L can't do surprises?  He has to know where we're going, how we're getting there, who else is going, what the plan is, what kind of beer and food they have there etc at all times.  Me?  I don't like surprises because they feel like emotional ambushes, but he just doesn't do surprises.  Bet he was the kind of kid that got so excited about Christmas he'd have to tell you what your present was or he'd burst.

Why I CANNOT stop craving sugary things?

How I'm going to find the time to fit in all the things I need to do, plus the things I've promised to do, see all the people I've promised to see and still have time to breath in what is left of the rest of the year?  I've already got plans for October and my birthday and new year's eve are all sown up too.

What I'm going to get my two best friends fro their birthday?  They aren't until September but I like to think and plan ahead.

Why the 3 girls in Despicable Me remind me so much of me and my sisters?  We don't look anything like those girls.

If it isn't a tad sad of me to be looking forward to trying out that new cosmetic product I bought the other evening?  It had better be good - it cost me £18.40!!

When the time is going to feel right for starting my story?  My fingers are itching to start and every time I try its crap!  The story leads me down the wrong path and misses a turn!!  So frustrating.

How one VERY LARGE bowl of cereal ate this morning has managed to fill me up all day?  I swear I haven't been hungry all day.  Still ate a cookie though.  I am a woman and I did already mention that I'm craving sugar.

Why people post cryptic yet clearly personal messages up on public forums like fb rather than talking it out face-to-face?  Really don't understand such postulating.

How I've managed to accumulate so many half empty bottles or tubs of different moisturisers?  Actually some of them aren't even half empty but rather either have too little left to be useful or too much to throw away lurking in my drawers/cupboards.

Why I'm struggling so much to get into GGK's latest novel?  He's always been one of my favourite authors and I've never struggled before.

Why, where and when calling a cup of coffee a cup of Joe originated from?

If someone could have forewarned me how much I was going to miss my little pudding and our calming and soothing snuggles?  I do.  I sorely miss him and his sisters and his mummy.