Thursday, August 16, 2007

Dog Days

It seemed such a perfect plan when I suggested it to Mum. 'Cancel your kennel booking and I'll look after your dogs while you are away for 3 weeks'. I should add there was a mercenary element to this, and not just a sudden bout of charitable, anthropophilic largesse on my part. I knew she'd offer to pay me. I'd be a lot cheaper than the kennels and the dogs would have the pleasure of their beloved Auntie Cherrypie for almost a month.

I didn't give a thought to the logistics of 2 big, smelly mutts sharing a house with me, a convalescing cat ( did I mention he lost his tail? it was most traumatic) and some dehumidifiers. I've got a 5* purpose-built dog kennel. It's short of nothing except flushing toilets. It's also temporarily full of bookcases and paraphenalia salvaged from the flooded conservatory. We're finding it a bit of a squeeze.

Dog accessories have come some way since I last walked them. I didn't realise I needed NVQ Level 3 in Extendable Doglead Handling before I'd be safe to let loose on the streets and fields. I've been dragged through hedges backwards, tied to trees and pulled down wet, grassy banks. And that was just on one 45 minute walk last night. Fly danced ' In and Out The Dusty Bluebells' along a line of rowans while Rosa played Ring-O'-Roses around me. Fortunately the scooped poop didn't burst out of its little sandwich bag as I fell forward onto it, hobbled at the knees.

Things didn't improve this morning when I almost had to call the Fire Brigade to rescue Fly from my utility room. A pair of kitchen steps had fallen down behind the door and had wedged it shut. I couldn't climb through the window as it only opens 45 degrees. I could just about get my wrist through the gap in the door but nothing I tried to hook round the steps worked. I enlisted the assistance of a gas man digging up the road outside the house. He was useless but very cute. If I'd been Renée Zellweger, he'd have fallen in love with me.As it was he just scratched his head and wandered off muttering about looking in his van.

I finally released Fly an hour and a half later with the aid of a half-moon lawn edger. I'm not sure which of us was more relieved.

I've got 3 more weeks of this mayhem. Call the RSPCA quick - that's the Royal Society for the Protection of Cherrypie's Arse!

3 Comments:

Blogger Dave said...

Woof, woof!

7:38 am  
Blogger ziggi said...

What was Fly doing with the step ladder in the first pace eh? Was the Bakers Complete Shite (Copyright Murph) on a high shelf?

6:54 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You had me in stitches...I am walking two dogs while their owners are on holiday. They are staying in their own houses.
My hassles are remembering what it was like to have a dog again (well 2 in different houses) the getting up really early for the first walk of the day!! Wearing the "dog clothes" being jumped up by other dogs who "know" the dog you are walking and then the friendly people you meet!!

I'd forgotten that walking a dog means you converse with people (remember I'm in London and people often dont look at each other here!!LOL) again you may not always know their name but you will know the name of the dog!!

C

11:25 am  

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