The question currently echoing around our household at the moment is…’Should we get a dog’?
Now, to be fair to my other half I ought to be clear here (or at least clear ‘ish), the question, ‘Should we get a dog’ was mainly my idea. I concluded, in a moment of sad realisation, that in order to stop myself totally and physically falling to pieces, I would have to exercise (more?).
However, (and I’m being completely transparent and totally honest here) I have to admit that to my shame, exercise on a regular basis was very unlikely to happen unless it was forced upon me. As the thought of my wife standing over me with a whip or club did not appeal, the next best thing would be to get a dog.
I’m told dogs, if you don’t want them to poo on the carpet, need to go out and about at the very least, a couple of times a day which, for me would be ideal. That sort of timetable would fit exactly into my planned exercise regime, with one major benefit, I won’t poo on the carpet. So, it was obvious. What was needed here was a dog.
There are other benefits too.
The main one I am thinking of is, companionship. See it from my point of view. My wife doesn’t talk to me very much and when she does it’s usually in a hectoring tone because I’ve done something to displease her, like, I don’t know, breathing? Anyway, it follows doesn’t it? That a brow-beaten man like me is in desperate need of a friend who won’t shout at me but will love and respect me for what I am. I am told dogs fit the bill.
At this point I’m reminded of my boyhood hero, Roy Rogers and his wonderful song about ‘Trigger’ (OK, so Trigger was a horse-but you get my gist?)
‘A four-legged friend, a four-legged friend he’ll never let you down. He’s honest and faithful right up to the end. That wonderful one-two-three-four-legged friend’.
Then of course comes the question, ‘what kind of dog’?
Well, as everybody who knows me will testify to, I am a man’s man. I’m rugged, tough and definite SAS material (*cough). So it goes without saying I would have to have a dog that shares those qualities. Something big, hairy and butch. Anything that fits into a handbag and has to go to the doggy hairdressers once a month is out of the question. I need an animal that reflects my manly qualities. I need an animal that will be able to keep up.
So. The idea of a dog friend is firmly planted. It’s just about getting the memsahib to agree.
I wait patiently and I dream enthusiastically.
As plans are now afoot for us to move home to the rugged beaches of Cornwall (hopefully before the year is out), in my imagination I can see myself running, (yes, that’s running) through the breaking waves with my hairy companion at my side, his Boxer chops salivating and his lungs inflating to bursting point as he struggles to keep up with me.
I will let you know.
Why do people let their dogs lick their face? That and the answers to other mysteries (below).