Now if you’ve visited this blog before you will know that I love beasts -all kinds but especially my dogs – the Hairies -my only coherent companions. Alas alack Alan-whatever that means-they are now aged crones. Flora deaf. Sammy demented and lumpy. Halitosis looms large yet I love them from the tip of their protruding brown teeth to the very tip of their balding wagging tails. SO this is the question. When to get a puppy?
Recently my heart sang as I was contacted through the blog by the person who adopted Flora -my half haggis half womble dogs puppy from the dog home – and she is just like her ma. Here is the daughter.
And the Mum – my Flo.
The first time ever seen together. Tear to a glass eye. Both from the cat and dog home and you can tell bursting with character. But Flo is 13 or 14. Every day at the moment I find my car driving towards the dog home but I pull over and give myself a talking to. So I head home and google a few rescue societies and then before I can pick up the phone or email them I snap the keyboard shut on my hand. Stop. No more dogs. Not now. It’s not fair. But when?
It is a known fact that when a man loses his wife he will remarry fast and it never ceases to get up my nose. As if its a one size fits all. Ah you have a pulse, can boil an egg and don’t find me physically repellant will you be mine? So in the dog world I will not and cannot trade them in fro a younger model. The mere thought of the look I would get if I wafted a silken haired wee pup under their noses as if I waiting for them to shuffle off this mortal coil brings a shudder. For now it’s a no no.
But I have found a pic of the dog I would love I will post it tomorrow and see if you know anything about them…..but for now… I am being watched by the hounds of the Baskervilles so I must away or they will suspect foul play.