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I have been loaded with the cold all weekend, and that made me remember a cool thing about my dog, which is that she can tell the difference between being my properly sick and having a hangover. When I am actually sick she will do her business uncomplaining in the garden and then curl up on the couch with me to watch old episodes of Criminal Minds; when I'm hungover she will lick my eyeballs until I get up and put my trainers on.
Speaking of sick people telly, do Sky really believe that there are all that many people who want to watch incomprehensibly edited episodes of Criminal Minds at eleven am on a weekday? Is part of their business model based on catering to people with moderately high fevers who can't find the remote control?
Sorry, I am still full of cold medicine.
Anyway, when I was last talking about the dog, she'd just had her surgery to have her adamantium leg fitted and was in pretty poor form. Sixteen weeks later and she has one wonky leg, a limp that gets noticeably worse if anyone is eating cheese on toast in her vicinity, and an undiminished urge to lunge wildly at the local fauna (squirrels, cats, foxes, a field of dairy cows, a paternally enraged pair of swans, that police horse that one time.)
Every day she is more and more like her old self, and every day I remember that her old self was a total pest. I had not missed the ten pm squeaky toy chorus every day, and I had forgotten all about her habit of licking my pillows while I'm out so that I go to lie down and go 'ew, why is it all wet!?' I think she can smell my shampoo. At least, I hope that's what it is.
On the plus side, now I get to call her Hopalong Freya and sometimes she turns left without meaning to like a shopping trolley with one wonky wheel, so that's pretty funny.
Really, she has been a brave little toaster all the way through this, and has seemed pretty happy ever since the injunction on her being allowed up on the furniture was lifted - she is a pup of simple wants. It's understandable, really, as she's not the one who's going to have to pay the vet bill, which I have still not gotten. It goes to the insurance people first, and then the remainder comes to me. Fear not, I have smelling salts and a fainting couch at the ready.
I've still got my dog, though, so I suppose I can't really complain. Although, I will.
The other cool thing going on right now is that I have a standing playdate with a puppy. The people next door got their first ever dog, a little border collie pup who is as cute as ten thousand buttons, and already smarter than all of us. I fell for that one too; my first dog back when I knew nothing about dogs was a collie, and though I loved the bones of that dog, for ten years she ran absolute rings around all of us, and now the first thing on my doggy must have list is that it definitely has to be dumber than I am. So after years of being on nodding/sorry, am I in your parking space? terms with the neighbours they went, I guess in a fit of panic when the puppy was eating their brickwork, I think the girl next door might know something about dogs.
The upshot being that I now have half an hour carved out of every day for puppy cuddles and fetch - I have tried to interest Freya in playing fetch, but alas she isn't interested in chasing anything that isn't going to struggle if caught - and it is doing all kinds of good things for my mood.
I had forgotten how non self-conscious puppies make me, too. For instance I have started running with him, and normally I would be too embarrassed to run where I live, because 'fat lady tries to run' is a mortifying internet video waiting to happen, but 'unfit lady and puppy who is 80% legs try to run and BOTH fail' is a whole different thing and is hilarious.
This whole thing has also cured me of the desire to get a second dog. For a while there I'd found myself thinking 'maybe Freya would like a friend?' Well, if I have learned nothing else from introducing her to the puppy it's that she's ridiculously possessive of HER human and would very much NOT like a friend. Also, the thought of a four figure vet bill x2 was pretty sobering, too. And other people's puppies are like other people's children: they're great fun, but when you get bored playing with them you can just leave them in a crate with a bowl of water.
Speaking of sick people telly, do Sky really believe that there are all that many people who want to watch incomprehensibly edited episodes of Criminal Minds at eleven am on a weekday? Is part of their business model based on catering to people with moderately high fevers who can't find the remote control?
Sorry, I am still full of cold medicine.
Anyway, when I was last talking about the dog, she'd just had her surgery to have her adamantium leg fitted and was in pretty poor form. Sixteen weeks later and she has one wonky leg, a limp that gets noticeably worse if anyone is eating cheese on toast in her vicinity, and an undiminished urge to lunge wildly at the local fauna (squirrels, cats, foxes, a field of dairy cows, a paternally enraged pair of swans, that police horse that one time.)
Every day she is more and more like her old self, and every day I remember that her old self was a total pest. I had not missed the ten pm squeaky toy chorus every day, and I had forgotten all about her habit of licking my pillows while I'm out so that I go to lie down and go 'ew, why is it all wet!?' I think she can smell my shampoo. At least, I hope that's what it is.
On the plus side, now I get to call her Hopalong Freya and sometimes she turns left without meaning to like a shopping trolley with one wonky wheel, so that's pretty funny.
Really, she has been a brave little toaster all the way through this, and has seemed pretty happy ever since the injunction on her being allowed up on the furniture was lifted - she is a pup of simple wants. It's understandable, really, as she's not the one who's going to have to pay the vet bill, which I have still not gotten. It goes to the insurance people first, and then the remainder comes to me. Fear not, I have smelling salts and a fainting couch at the ready.
I've still got my dog, though, so I suppose I can't really complain. Although, I will.
The other cool thing going on right now is that I have a standing playdate with a puppy. The people next door got their first ever dog, a little border collie pup who is as cute as ten thousand buttons, and already smarter than all of us. I fell for that one too; my first dog back when I knew nothing about dogs was a collie, and though I loved the bones of that dog, for ten years she ran absolute rings around all of us, and now the first thing on my doggy must have list is that it definitely has to be dumber than I am. So after years of being on nodding/sorry, am I in your parking space? terms with the neighbours they went, I guess in a fit of panic when the puppy was eating their brickwork, I think the girl next door might know something about dogs.
The upshot being that I now have half an hour carved out of every day for puppy cuddles and fetch - I have tried to interest Freya in playing fetch, but alas she isn't interested in chasing anything that isn't going to struggle if caught - and it is doing all kinds of good things for my mood.
I had forgotten how non self-conscious puppies make me, too. For instance I have started running with him, and normally I would be too embarrassed to run where I live, because 'fat lady tries to run' is a mortifying internet video waiting to happen, but 'unfit lady and puppy who is 80% legs try to run and BOTH fail' is a whole different thing and is hilarious.
This whole thing has also cured me of the desire to get a second dog. For a while there I'd found myself thinking 'maybe Freya would like a friend?' Well, if I have learned nothing else from introducing her to the puppy it's that she's ridiculously possessive of HER human and would very much NOT like a friend. Also, the thought of a four figure vet bill x2 was pretty sobering, too. And other people's puppies are like other people's children: they're great fun, but when you get bored playing with them you can just leave them in a crate with a bowl of water.