Oh Come On!

I know, I know, I haven’t blogged for ages. Again. Where have I been?

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Ok, that’s me on the right but I haven’t  actually been holed up in a top secret bunker waiting for everything to stop being on fire. Although now you mention it, that doesn’t sound like a totally bad idea.

Here’s the thing. 2018 was… challenging, so boo to that. This year so far has been way busy and way beyond stressful. For those who want to know why, read on. If you don’t, just skip to the funny story at the end. I won’t mind, and it pretty much sums up the last three months.

In January we were involved in some nonsense which (and I have always wanted to say this) I cannot talk about for legal reasons. Suffice to say neither of us was a defendant and we have not suddenly become Thelma and Louise. Sorry to disappoint.

Later that month, my mum finally had a knee replacement she’d needed for a long time. I arranged to stay with her for a few days when she came out of hospital. That turned into nearly two weeks, as it became apparent she had been discharged without a ‘care package’, so no nurse visits, physio etc. Happily, she is up and about without crutches now and doing really well.

Shortly after that we lost our gorgeous old Etty dog. Hardly a shock, as she was at least sixteen years old, but heartbreaking just the same. She deserves her own blog which I will be writing very soon.

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In happier news, in February, we adopted these two gorgeous loons, Ruby and Lola, who ended up in rescue after their owner died. They also deserve their own blog, also coming soon.

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Regular listeners know I have been struggling with back problems, particularly over the last three years or so when I have also had referred leg pain (a bit like extreme sciatica). Good news is that I finally seem to have a diagnosis that makes sense! I’m booked for more surgery on 8 April, all being well. If that works I will have another op 8-12 weeks later, so things are looking up, but I have a little way to go yet.

All this has meant that I haven’t been able to work full-time for a while now, and hardly at all this year. I am so very grateful to everyone who has stuck around and supported Poochweasel and I’m determined to get things up and running again as soon as possible. Seriously; if you’re bothering to read this, you rock.

So yes, funny story: Here’s a perfect (and dog-related) illustration of how 2019 is going for us: to set the scene, we’ve been trying to get our house on the market for ages. Luce has some free time at the moment, so the plan was to to get as much as possible done before April. We made a start and the house was in… well, let’s call it ‘organised chaos’ as we sorted through clutter, rearranged storage, boxed up charity donations and so on. Last Tuesday afternoon, Luce took the dogs for a walk and Lola found some lovely, stinky mud to roll in.

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I ran her a bath and we popped her in as soon as they got home. We stuck Ruby in and washed her paws for good measure and congratulated ourselves on having such little angels who sat happily to be dried and barely made a paw-print in the bathroom. Then we heard a weird noise from downstairs… Turns out that the waste pipe under the bath had chosen that moment to give up the ghost.

We can laugh about it now and, on the plus side, the insurance company have been brilliant and dealt with everything very promptly. However, you would not believe the damage a dog-bath’s worth of water can do when it crashes through a ceiling! In addition to the other clutter, our downstairs rooms are now full of furniture from the living room and we are camping upstairs. The ceiling needed to come down and once that had been replaced, the entire room needed redecorating. Thankfully, all the work-people have been lovely, friendly, efficient folk who have made friends with Lola and Ruby, which has helped. When the decorating is finished, we need the electrician to sort the new light fitting, someone to assess the state of the wooden furniture and someone from ‘soft furnishings’ to approve cleaning or replacement of sofas, rugs etc. Such fun!

My work room is directly above this. Yesterday was the first day I was able to venture back in:

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Of course, our story is that Lola, affectionately known as ‘Tank’, broke the bath to avoid future cleaning. The irony being that everything in the house is now covered with a thick layer of plaster dust and the dogs are pretty much the only things that don’t need cleaning.

In conclusion, as delightful as March has been, I am ready for April now, pleaseandthankyou. What could possibly go wrong?

Fin.

Bonus music thing: If you recognised the lyric reference in my blog title, come and talk music with me! 😉  If you didn’t, meet the legendary Kathleen Hanna and the Julie Ruin:

 

If you enjoyed, I urge you to go catch up with everything else Kathleen Hanna. Look up her other bands Bikini Kill and Le Tigre and/or buy Julie Ruin stuff here: Julie Ruin Store

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Shine on my sparkly one

 

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This is not the blog I thought I’d be writing this week. This is not a blog I ever wanted to write but it’s the best way I can think of to share news I never wanted to have to share. This afternoon we lost our gorgeous youngest dog, Boswell, and my heart is broken.

Last week, Luce and I were at a party in Belgium, drinking beer until dawn with Luce’s brother and his family and being ridiculed by 100-odd giddy Belgian football fans. That is the blog I was going to write when we got home. My mum looked after the dogs for us while we were away and they had a great time.

Things happened very suddenly. On Monday morning, Bos was fine. He ate his breakfast enthusiastically and went for his usual romp in the woods that afternoon. That evening he refused his dinner, which is most unlike him. He seemed uncomfortable and his belly was tender, so we made him a vet’s appointment the following morning, thinking he probably had a stomach bug.

They kept him in for tests, which proved worrying. He was anaemic and showing signs of an internal bleed, so we rushed him to Liverpool veterinary hospital for a CT scan. Sadly, this confirmed that he had highly aggressive malignant tumours which had started in his kidney. They had already spread widely and could not be treated.

The surgeon advised that he was very unlikely to last the week but that, as long as we were careful, we could take him home for a couple of days to say goodbye and spoil him rotten, so that is what we did. He also reminded us that Bos had no idea how ill he was and sure enough, he trotted into the room with his trademark smile and our hearts broke for the second time that day.

His last two days have been full of everything he loved. He has been fussed and kissy-faced constantly, slept on our bed all night, had sausages galore and his own portion of fish and chips. By chance, he also saw most of his favourite people over the last couple of weeks; his favourite aunties (our best friends) came to see him just before we went away, he was looked after by his grandma and visited by Lisa the dog sitter/walker and we arranged for his auntie Sarah the vet to visit him at home this afternoon. He passed away peacefully, being loved and adored until his very last moment.

Despite the sad subject, this will be quite a long blog because I also want to tell you about his happy life. He was such a special dog. I know everyone says that about their dogs but even amongst the array of characters we have rehomed, he stood out as unique.

He was born at Dogs Trust Shrewsbury (Roden) in 2008. We went looking for a friend for our terrier girl, Etty, as my old dog Honey was 15 and not in the best of health. Etty could be wary of other dogs so we thought a young male would give her the best chance of bonding easily. We asked if they could put us on the waiting list for a puppy and they said “can you wait 8 weeks? There’s a litter being born right now!” Obviously, it was meant to be. Of course, being us, we also took home a 14-year-old Labrador while we waited (and got a ‘Buy One Get One Free’ deal) but that is the story of Sandie, which is another blog.

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His mum was a big blonde Labrador and Dogs Trust had been told that dad was a pedigree black Labrador. This is him at four weeks old. I think it’s pretty obvious that dad was actually an opportunistic border collie. We cuddled all the puppies and chose the daft one who fell asleep on me once he got bored of trying to eat my earrings. And my ears.

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We named him Boswell, which sounds very literary or historical but we actually had Charlie’s Angels in mind, as he lived with three female dogs. The character we were thinking of turned out to be called Bosley but (what are the odds?) we already had a friend with a dog called Bosley. In any event, it suited him perfectly. Honey was too old by then to find him of much interest but taught him the value of rules and good manners. Etty taught him how to be a good sidekick, how to play with toys and the importance of ‘pack’ (and how to turn a watering can into a watering can’t).

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Sandie, who looked a lot like his mum, took all the ear-nibbling and puppy snuggles.

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He grew up ridiculously handsome. I mean seriously handsome. Movie star good looks.

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It also became apparent that he was very bright and incredibly sensitive. I’ve never known a dog who could pick up on moods as well as he could and he felt personally responsible for cheering you up if you were upset.

He had such a sunny personality, he woke up every morning dancing and ‘singing’ around the bedroom with the sheer joy of being alive. Most mornings he would shove a slipper into my face before playing his favourite game of hiding one or both of them. He was quite sneaky and there would often be one hidden in plain sight and one that was more fiendishly camouflaged:

 

 

He loved socks too but never chewed them He never once chewed anything he shouldn’t, even as a puppy, but he loved to carry them around. For years to come I will be wearing odd socks and feeling disappointed every morning when my slippers are still where I left them.

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He was very tidy and routinely ‘filed’ his toys in his basket, the communal baskets and bedding and sometimes the sofas. He could put his paw on anything he needed and if I wanted to wash a blanket I was carefully supervised to make sure I put it all back in the same place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of all, he was a ‘people’ dog. He adored everyone and everyone loved Boswell, even if he could be a little overenthusiastic at times.

 

 

 

 

He knew the command ‘whiskery kisses’ but didn’t always wait for it.

 

We will miss him so very much, especially as he was only nine years old and things happened so suddenly, but it’s impossible to remember him without a smile even now. We will always be grateful that he had such a happy life, full of love.

It’s also hard for us because our usual response to losing a dog is to go straight out and rehome another dog but Etty is 16 and quite frail, so unless she is sad and tells us that she doesn’t want to be an only dog we will let her live out her dotage first.

Instead, I will do what I often do if I read something about a dog that makes me sad and make a donation to the Dogs Trust so that another dog will be happy. If you would like to make a small donation in his memory, you can do that here: Dogs Trust Donation Page

In any case, I hope that his story has made you smile because he loved to make people happy. He may have left us too soon but we would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Farewell Boswell, our beautiful boy.

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