Nell is 5 months old now. Personally, I count it as a minor miracle we have both survived thus far. For example, yesterday at some ungodly hour in the morning - 5.45, I think - we were playing a robust game of ‘Tug’ with one of her tuggy toys, when there as an enormous ‘CRACK!’ and I went, ‘Goodness, what was THAT?’ and Nell went, ‘Oooh, my face, my face,’ and went into a bit of a frenzy followed by ‘Mum, hug me’ mode, which she does when she wants reassurance. Later, at a less ungodly hour, Andy checked her mouth and found one of her baby canines hanging by a thread. He pulled it - the thing had broken off at the gum line, but not to worry because the rest of it would be pushed out by her new adult tooth. Currently, Nell has a set of half baby teeth, half adult teeth. She is being very dribbly so I think teething continues apace. I managed to save her broken fang…
Other things I’ve noticed her starting to do are:
1) bury food she doesn’t want to eat immediately. Specifically, her dentastix. She has a dentastix every day, for oral health. Sometimes she eats it straight away, but sometimes she makes a big old hoo-ha about burying under the cushions and rugs on the sofa. There’s a lot of digging and arranging folds of blanket with her nose. And then she will either walk off and leave it ‘buried’ or she will immediately dig it up again and eat it
2) attempting to cover her poos when walking away after making her deposit. You know, doing that backwards kicking with the feet. Totally ineffective, of course, but the thought is there. I don’t want her to cover up her poos because it means at some point it will be me that finds them again by stepping in them. I want to scoop them up and fling them over the hedge into the field so they get trodden on by pheasants instead. I am also hoping they will act as a fox deterrent, but even that seems a bit pointless now we are sans chicken.
(N.B You’ll be pleased to know that Mollie, May and Magnus have integrated without fuss or ado into the chicken flock at their new home. Magnus is smaller than all the new flock hens, so he’s got his work cut out.)
3) guarding the house. There is a lot of VERY important standing in the front window looking perky and being barky. There is a lot of jaunty trotting around perimeters. There is a lot of eagle-eyed marching. It all looks very efficient. Any intruder who braves the barking and enters Damson Cottage will immediately be cuddled and smooched to death.
Yesterday, Nell had a date with her puppy party chum, Ted, the miniature schnauzer. As you might remember, Ted was very enamoured of Nell. Turns out he still is. Luckily, Nell can out run him with ease AND can still throw a good right hook to keep him in his place. Ted’s mum and I enjoyed a lovely long natter over tea and cake, and Nell and Ted shared some rolled buffalo hide, which, when added to dog saliva, smells revolting. Like, proper gag-making revolting. They had a piece each, but kept swapping. Bleurgh. As I said to Ted’s mum, at least it proves neither of them are food guarders.
Today, I have sent up a prayer to St Anthony, Patron Saint of Lost Things, because whilst Nell and I were gardening this afternoon, she lost her (needed by law) name tag. It could be anywhere in the garden. I looked and looked, and Nell pretended to look and look, but it remains lost which means tomorrow I shall have to go and buy a new one. Unless St Anthony comes to our rescue and it is the first thing I see when I take Nell for her pee and poo run tomorrow morning. I have told St Anthony I shall make a donation to a charity if he helps me to find the name tag. Probably the Bumblebee Conservation Trust. A bumblebee was banging its head against our patio windows this morning. No kidding, this bee was the size of an EGG! Honest! HUGE!
Comments