It’s a Worry!
You have to understand that Mrs M is the dog expert in our family. In my youth, I never had a canine pet for reasons which I have explained before.
One cat,’Stripey’; one goldfish, ‘Goldie’, who came home in a small plastic bag from the shows (Scots for a fair) and went belly-up six short months later and one hamster, ‘Goldie’, who lasted four years but who, I later learned, had actually been three hamsters. My parents told me the truth when they thought that I was ready to face it. That was a terrible 22nd birthday when I think back. Continuing to think back, I was seriously rubbish at naming my pets, if truth be told.
I met Mrs M at the Uni of Embra when we were both nineteen I immediately appreciated her many fine qualities and I seriously loved her dog, Sweep, a Cocker Spaniel. Totally beguiling, endlessly entertaining and completely mad. But, enough about Mrs M. Sweepy was pretty special as well. By the time he died, Mrs M had moved out from living with him and had moved in to live with me. I can still remember the night when her Dad phoned her to tell her he had gone.
Time moved on and Mrs M retired. One of her first priorities, apart from getting her free bus pass, was to bring a hound back into her life. She assured me that it was not because she was tiring of me and I still choose to believe her. She also said that Cocker Spaniels were not an option.
It turned out that they were and we ended up with Dougal who is a joy.
Except for the fact that he is definitely Mrs M’s dog and she is presently disporting herself in the soft and gilded south of the British isles for a long weekend. I am in sole charge of ‘walkies’ for morning and evening – we have hired nephews for the daytime care.
I’m about to do our third evening stroll of tonight and, so far, young Dougal has failed to relieve himself of anything at all. Is this a dog thing when they are pining?