Friday, 12 February 2016

Stuff my dog does

We got our Parson Russell puppy, Buster, late last summer. He's now 7 months old and as the weeks pass, his personality is developing. He laughs a lot and is very enthusiastic about everything and everyone. His hobbies include jumping up to say hello to visitors, barking at cars, hugging other dogs and licking horses. His crate is in our kitchen and he has always been very good about going to his cosy bed at night with his favourite squeaky chicken. He loves this so much we're on chicken number 3.
I think it helps that his bed is right by the warm radiator.
Most mornings he is quite happy to stay settled in his bed, listening to the sounds of the shower or hairdryer upstairs as we get ready for work. Hearing our footsteps on the creaky stairs is his cue to bounce up and down and welcome us. His sheer joy at the start of each day is brilliant and now we have a routine, he knows all his favourite things are coming his way. Outside for a sniff and a wee, round the corner to visit the ponies, home for a massive game of fetch followed by breakfast and surveillance duties from his window seat. If he's lucky and there's a bundle of washing going into the machine, he might score a sneaky sock.
The only cloud in his endless blue sky is when the servants take away newly acquired toys (toilet rolls) and put him in doggy jail (behind the baby gate in the kitchen).
These are his favourite things in the whole world, especially the red ball. If the servants let him, he would play fetch with these until he fell over.
But sometime the servants adapt his toys, for example cutting the chewed and frayed fronds off his squid. Meanies.
I currently work from home and have a small office set up in our back bedroom. Buster visits me there because he thinks my office is his Fartorium. He also thinks he's very funny.
Despite his sometimes unsavoury presence, we are very appreciative of our good natured, scruffy little dog. There are no cushions left on our sofas, the floors have a permapaw covering, we have to hide the toilet roll, be on call when he rings his bell to go outside for "dog time" and groan with frustration when he forgets his manners, refuses to sit for anything less than sausage and behaves like a devil dog on the lead. For all that we find him irrisistible.

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