I love to travel and get out and about - time and finances permitting.  Most of my adventures these days are solo, with a backpack and on a budget - a far cry from the trips of years ago when I  used to  tell myself "money I have got, time I haven't!", as I swanned into some swanky four star plus establishment and ordered myself a tall G&T.

About Me

50 something, dreaming about living the dream......every day above the ground is a good one because you are a long time looking at the lid!

(C) Needagilrd

Barking mad...

May 10, 2019

 

When I made the decision to buy a puppy at the beginning of the year, I did it knowing that Cairn terriers can have a life expectancy of between 12-15 years. I reasoned that the Canine investement would see me out of this world. In 15 years ,  I rationalised my decision knowing that by the time I reached my late sixites,  I would be ready to spend my remaining years on a pet free cruise ship navigating the world getting rid of any assets and  funds I might have managed to save over my life before heading off in the grey car to the pearly gates penniless. 

 

What I didn’t count on was the fact that the antics of the brindle ball of wire hair would have me penniless before the first year was out and see me seriously reconsidering my purchasing decision! He has only been in residence here two and a half months but  has already wrecked and damaged many dollars worth of stuff and increased my anxiety levels to a place they haven’t been for years.

There is no way to sugar coat the disarray  and mayhem that Finnlator Montgomery has brought to the house on Manchester Street, and I fear I have turned into one of those mad pet owners that people cross the street to avoid when they are out walking. They don’t care that he is being walked in a Patent leather jacket wearing a bow tie. They can hear a mad woman from a distance yelling heel and wonder why she turning circles in the street to avoid her arm being pulled off in an attempt  slow the beast down .

Raising children was never like this. I didn’t move to much stuff off the coffee table back then, and I certainly didn’t walk around with pockets full of chocolate drops and bacon bits hoping they would behave so I could reward their behaviour. It seems that every jacket I pick up these days has pockets full of some sort of dog treat. As children they did try and terrorise the cats we had back then, but learned early on the consequences of pissing the cat off. Unfortunately for Reg, the resident feline, this prick is a slow learner. She has resorted to sitting on the table, walking on the sideboard delicately amongst my fine collection of hunting memorabilia or peering at him from the benchtop to avoid him when she has had enough of him. Usually after they have chased each other through the house destroying anything in their path. Nothing is out of bounds it appears, and in her efforts to avoid him ,he has become an agility champion already. Ducking and diving amongst my precious oak furniture and using my leather settee as a trampoline to shorten the route is common place. I was furious when I caught him draped  across the back of the couch yesterday , lying in wait like one of the dead foxes I am so fond off displaying in my home. An expaserated sigh was my only response as I am worn out with it all.

 

Trips to the dog park are a must for this energetic boy, it’s the one place I can let him run and not worry about what he wrecks as he socialises with more civilised members of his race and gets to  meet other people as mad as myself. Last Saturday, he had his first ride there on my trusty orange scooter. Carefully placed in a box between my feet on the step thru, he remained in position until we got there ,enjoying the view with his ears flat back against his head as we shot the breeze. There was only a few scary moments crossing the busy bridge when he got super excited about all the oncoming traffic and my life flashed before my eyes as we passed a milk tanker and the  thought popped into my head that maybe my load should have been  be better trained and secured before hitting the open road.

 

Somehow the algorothim on facebook knew that I needed some assistance with the Health and Safety in the house and almost immediately  dog related accessories  started appearing on my news feed.  WISH is a shopping site that is full of amazing things, particularly for dogs so e - shopping I went. I loaded that trolley up with all sorts of crap for Finn. A new bed – he has pulled the guts out of the one I brought a month ago, a safety belt for the car, a collapsible food tray and a backpack to put him in and clicked “pay now”.

His things are apparently on their way from China. I have had about 50 emails advising me of this and a further 50 suggesting other useless things I might like for the clown. I fear I am going barking mad for sure. This bundle of trouble has more toys than my kids ever had, through the week I enrolled him fat doggy day care  for one day a week, and have scheduled him in for a puppy pamper session at the Pet Spa, despite the fact that I could do with a pamper session myself!

Well best I get off here and go into damage control. The fact that I have let him roam about uncontrolled for 20 mins while I finish this has ensured another half an hour’s house work for sure. The toilet paper roll will need returned to the bathroom and the tissues that are all over the floor need picked up.  The floor needs mopped as he has come in and out the cat door 15 times with dirty feet already and there are toys strewn all over the place. Its 830 and most normal people will have enjoyed a bit of a lie in this Saturday – not me though,  he heard me prowling about  at 5.45am and was barking like hell so I had to let him out for fear of reprisals from neighbours. There is no doubt it will be a long 15 years at this stage.

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