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?
Boadicea's Chariot 
Good evening John:
1. Check with the nephews
2 Look behind the sofa
Good morning JM.
Cracking little blog. I’ve not had any pets since I was very young. It was heartbreaking when my sister’s dog had to be put down.
The shows. Wish I’d got that one in somewhere first; I did get chapping, which is a small consolation. After the shows, on the way out of the fairground my parents always bought me a hat from one of the stalls: A cowboy hat, a police hat, a construction worker’s hat etc. etc. (No doubt, the J-man will mention the Village People’s YMCA or something along those lines)
Morning JM
Have you fed him ❓
JM, very amusing stuff, revealing your touchy-feely side, methinks. I hope Dougal doesn’t go native darn sarf.
JW, moi? I never mention that song in case Backside starts casting nasturtiums.
I’ll go with LW’s comment, check up the sides of the sofa too!!
I’ve never been without a dog, only the years at Uni were dogless. I used to try and get jobs where I could take the dog of the moment. After I became self employed in 76, dogs were permanently in residence and objected to others (humans) sitting in the front passenger seat of the car. Any man that objected to dogs was dismissed PDQ!
The boy used to tell me that he knew he came lower on the totem than the dogs, to which the standard reply was that they gave me more pleasure in their company. The sop being that the husbands came a damn sight lower than him, which always amused him out of any impending sulks!. One of our standard set hideously accurate wry jokes.
I can recommend Jack Russells as very fine living hot water bottles, one either side. In fact I can see right now that they have already gone to bed from the office. Splendid small creatures of habit.
Sorry, JM, now I have woken up I realise it was the missus wot went sarf. 😦
Just for the avoidance of doubt, Dougal relieved himself mightily on his third nocturnal ramble.
LW and CO #1 and #5, a useful tip for which I thank you. I checked all the sofas and they were all Dougal waste product free. But I did make £1.37, two pens and a comb as a bonus.
Soutie #3, may you be forgiven. I would, of course, have fed him if he had indicated that it was necessary but every time I asked him if he had his tea he did not even have the courtesy to reply.
Hi JW #2. So, ‘chapping’ to you and ‘shows’ to me. Does that mean that we are ‘peels’?
Janus #4 and #6.
Oh North is North and South is South, and never the twain should part,
Whate’er the puffed-up Salmond says with his every vocal fart.
For there should be neither North nor South nor East, Midlands or West.
Let Britons stand as Britons stood. United, proud and best.’
Sorry about that Janus. Just had a brief Kiplingesque moment there. Most of me is only joshing but the rather small tartan horde was on the march in Embra yesterday clashing their gums on about Independence and the fire of Union is burning in my belly today. I really hate this phoney war. Bring on the referendum!
Like the pome!
Thanks, CO. A wee bit OTT perhaps but I enjoyed fulminating it. Your tea story is a joy.
But, you know full well what I’m going to write next. If you can share that one, why not tell us the full tale of the Falls Road, the fur coat, the stiletto heels and the cut glass English accent?
I still live in hope.
About this referendum, JM. What is Salmond proposing to do to extend the vote to ex-pat Scots, do you know? He’s going to let all sorts of foreign odds and s*ds who happen to be living in Scotland at the moment vote, but what about me and Sean and Alex and all the rest?
I’m a cat person, me. As you know, I was dog-sitting for a friend before my present holiday on Cyprus. I would take their mutt for a walk each evening, down to the Thames and along the bank to the Ship. Whether I got a pint or not depended on when the mutt chose to, erm, defecate – I didn’t think it particularly appropriate to belly up to the bar carrying a plastic bag of poop 🙂