After months, if not years, of waiting for a dog, the atmosphere in our house this week has become, shall we say, a little crazy. With the puppy’s
due date collection date being this Saturday, strange things are going on in our household…..
- My son has been waking at 6am unable to get back to sleep with excitement (thankfully staying in his bed – he’s considerate like that). Then on Thursday evening he decided the only way to fill the waiting dog crate was to get in it himself……
- I’ve been going round the house like a pregnant mum preparing for a new baby, clearing out clutter, moving everything up and generally wondering what I’ve let myself in for. Never have I felt such a mixture of panic and excitement since getting married! Will I ever be able to write in peace and quiet again?!!!
- My instagram account has gone nuts. After a friend requested me to post a pic on there I rather innocently posted the most adorable pic of our pup that our trainer sent us this week and stupidly used the hashtags #schnoodle and #puppy. Oh my. I’ve suddenly got 21 followers, most of whom are apparantly dogs, who go by the names of Pooch on Darcy, Pupbox, Labradoodlemissy, and Butters the schnoodle. Aaaagh!!!
- I keep finding myself in shops buying dog toys, assuring myself the mutt will need them if he’s not going to chew our furniture to bits and drive me mad in the process! Look at this little collection…
- The advice from other dog owners is ramping up (the more the merrier, I’m a total newbie no idea person) ranging from the sublimely practical “Put washing up liquid around table legs to stop the chewing” (thank you Charlotte) to the frighteningly impractical “It’s worse than having a baby!” (no really, not quite so helpful)
My husband has warned me in the strictest of terms that I must never, ever become a ‘dog bore’.
To make things worse, on Wednesday our fabulous dog breeder sent the most ridiculously adorable photo of our mutt-to-be (the one above). With no words in the email, just the photo of him sitting next to the ‘soft’ that I’d popped in the post so he had something to go home with that smelt of mum and siblings. We totally died with gooeyness when we saw it.
Don’t you think it he looks like he’s saying “I’ve been told to say thank you for this present. I have no idea what is is, but thank you!”
Chances of my becoming a ‘dog bore’ are at the moment set at an alarming 2:1……
P.S. No children were harmed in the production of this blog post.