Mornings are hard enough without having to look into your dogs bottom first thing.
Living with the two dafties though there is no legislating what they will do next.
Flora – the terrier terrorist – likes a ball/frisbee/any flying missile. She likes missiles to the extent that her teeth are squint and falling out and her gums look like a chimps bum. Nasty. The vet said he would cut them back. Her gums not her teeth. it would cost about £400 I said what about insurance he said ‘dogs dental things aren’t covered on insurance’ Well what the f**** is the point in getting dog insurance then? It causes her no pain it just looks hideous if you are staring at them and why the hell would you do that if you didn’t have to. So they are staying just the way they are.
Labrador Sam – nice but dim – I suspect has dementia. She knows nothing. She never did but she knows less than ever. Her name? Well at a push. There is nothing wrong with her ears as she can hear the crackle of the dog food bag at 100 yards but when out for a walk she just willie wanders about aimlessly, wagging and stotting about. She has real difficulty climbing stairs now too. Not an age thing, she is only 8 but a mental problem. I can see the dullness of her eyes shift as she approaches the stairs thinking ‘ shit I have four legs and I am not quite sure which order they go in when climbing these bloody stairs’.
Sam also likes a snack. Paper, potatoes, a sock, fur off tennis balls, receipts, a jumper. She takes things and offers them to people or she hides them in her bed where she lies on them for days. Often the lost shoe will pitch up under her warm black tum. So this morning she was wandering lonely as a cloud in the gardens opposite our flat when she started huckling around like John Wayne without the horse. Oh no I thought come on whatever it is get it out. PUSH! Well push she jolly well did, for about 3 minutes and then taking pity on her – it was that or a gun – I took the step of putting several pooh bags over my hand, lifting her tail (I swear her eyebrows shot up I know mine did ) and finding what was near enough a haystack hanging out of her bottom. The things you do. So I grabbed the end of the haystack and pulled. And pulled and pulled until what I would call something like the pin the tail on the donkey tail was removed.
She wagged and turned to smile at me. As I stood upright, red faced and revolted with a bag of horror in my hand I found myself face to face with the posh neighbour. We have many neighbours most of whom are absolutely lovely but there is the inevitable stand offish posh one who looks down her nose at all of us.
Morning I shouted in a hail and hearty head girl sort of way resisting the urge to wave the donkeys tale at her.
She turned away.
So it is official. Sometimes life is shit.
