Nell is exactly four months old today. I congratulate us both on making it this far without accident, injury or disaster.
Each morning, I arrive downstairs at 6.15 and this is how she goes:‘Hello Mum! I haven’t seen you for AGES! Let’s go, let’s do stuff NOW!! Hello sofas! Hello toy box! What’s in my toy box? Wait, I need to get a toy. Which one? This one….no, that one, or perhaps this one, no, I’ll have THAT one. Come on, Mum, let’s go to the kitchen! Let’s chew a cupboard door knob. Tee hee…I said knob! Quick, I need to go outside for pees and poos, quick, quick….no, I can’t sit still whilst you attach my lead to my collar, this is all toooooo exciting, it’s a new day…hurrah!!!
(By now, I am already feeling exhausted. I’ve bribed her with some sausage so I can get her lead on her collar and I’ve opened the back door.)
Come ON, Mum, I need to do a POO! Wait, let me grab the poo scoop from the flower pot by the back door. Got it! Let’s go! Run, run…up the steps, boing, boing, boing, I’m like a kangaroo, aren’t I, Mum? What’s a kangaroo? Never mind…look….chickens!!! Can I run after the chickens, Mum? Go on, let me run after the chickens…
…wait! Stopping for a pee….oooh, that’s better. Just let me sniff it to make sure it’s mine…and it IS….YAY! Let’s go! I’m going to find exactly the right spot for a poo, even though I am desperate, it has to be the right spot….this one, no….that one….over here in the longer wet grass, because that’ll make it easy for you to clear it up….or maybe here, just slightly under the hedge…nope, HERE! I’ll just drop the poo scoop so I can concentrate…adopt the position….DON’T WATCH…I’m doing a POO!
FINISHED! I’ve done a POO! Aren’t I a good girl! Yay!!! Pick it up, Mum. Get rid of it! And now give me back the poo scoop….it’s VERY important I carry it back to the house. Come ON….breakfast! What’s for breakfast? Can I have some egg on my kibble, Mum? Or some tuna? Or sausage? Can I have a bit of your apple? I LOVE apple! Go on, give me a bit of apple! Wait! Having a drink of water…and now paddling in the water because I am part spaniel and it is genetic, I can’t help it, really I can’t.
Let’s play! I’ll get the ball and you can throw it up and down the kitchen even though you’re trying to make breakfast and a cup of tea, you can do both, can’t you? Throw the ball! Squeak my squeaky snake! Play tug with my tuggy toy! Let’s go out into the garden AGAIN and you can put me on the lunging rein and I can runandrunandrunandarunandrun after my three tennis balls and my frisbee which you can throw for me ad infinitum and sometimes I’ll give them back but sometimes I won’t and…ooooh, squirrel!! Just having another pee, Mum! Because of all the water! Throw the frisbee, MUM! I can still catch it, even with a tennis ball in my mouth! Oooh, look what I’ve found! A manky apple from last year! Nom, nom, nom! And chicken poo! Yum! Can I lick your face, Mum? Go on….let me lick your face!
I’m TIRED now! Let’s go inside! Can I bring the manky apple with me? Can I bring all my outside toys in with me? How about a tree branch? Why do you have to dry my feet? I can dry them on the sofa. Stop trying to dry my feet! Or is this a new game? Wanna play, huh? Wanna play rough tough let’s dry the wet feet game??….Tired now….and….asleep….
And that, my friends, accounts for the first hour of the day. I look at the kitchen clock and think, ‘Sheesh…it’s barely 7.30.’
I met a cockapoo owner the other day when Nell and I were out and about on a walk. She commented on Nell’s puppy energy.
‘Mine’s just the same,’ she said.
‘How old is your cockapoo?’ said I.
‘Four years,’ said she.
And we both rolled our eyes.
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