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A year and a day

 It’s been a year and a day since Nell arrived to take up her position at Damson Cottage as Miss Malarkey. In that time, she has grown from this 3 kg handful:


To this 9.3 kg lump of adult dog:


Her inherited poodle gene means her fur has lightened from Rita Hayworth auburn to gingernut biscuit. It has also gone a bit curlier, but not too curly. Her black button nose is now a sort of rose-brown in colour. Her little slug tail is now a magnificent ostrich-style plume. She is a proper chunky solid dog.

It’s been a bit of a roller-coaster, this first Year of Nell. No amount of reading books and websites, nor listening to the wisdom of others, can prepare you for having a dog invade your space of quiet calm and orderliness. My primary school reports of old make occasional mention of my bossy inclinations. Believe me, they are nothing compared to this bossy canine madam! 

Anyhow, despite the chaos and challenges, the battles and curveballs, Nell is finally settling down. She is coming to realise who is (mostly) in charge (that’ll be ME) and what is acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. For example, she has learnt that I do NOT approve of her kicking the washing machine door, especially as it is a new washing machine. Nor do I like her dobbing me in the knee with her sharp and pointy poodle nose when she wants my attention, although this is preferable to her dropping one of her heavy rubber ‘fetch’ balls on my bare feet. But I do love how she climbs into her basket and adopts the ‘pick me up’ pose when it’s time to put on her harness for a walk. That’s very cute! And she has stopped stealing tea towels and unravelling the kitchen roll from its holder. 

I’ve learnt a lot. Mostly, how to keep her fur clipped. On FaceTime last week, my Mum looked at Nell and said, ‘She looks like she could do with a proper haircut.’

‘I clip her fur myself, Mum,’ said I. 

‘Exactly,’ said Mum. ‘But I’m sure there must be someone professional that you could get to do it instead. Colin always looks very smart.’ (Colin is my brother’s bordoodle, a cross between a border collie and a poodle who also needs regular clipping, only he goes to a ‘proper’ groomer.)

Rude, I thought. I didn’t say it out loud though. I’m not one to pick a fight with an almost 84 year old. 

Anyway, here we are, a year and a day after ‘Got You Day.’ Nell is a year and two months old tomorrow. Still a bit of a puppy in some ways but mostly more of a grown up. 

Would I do it again?

 Of course I wouldn’t…


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