Old man and his pup

The day my dad came to see the pups I knew and hoped

We took Rip, one of Tink’s pups, to my dads on Sunday to start his new life. One man and his dog stood there in that back garden and I must say it was like my dad had become whole again. In that moment I had given my dad back his past and at the same time his future. As a boy he would go hunting with his dog to feed his brothers and sisters, man and dog working together to bring back something for the pot. Dogs have been a big part of his life. We had a gentle golden retriever named Prince that was as regal as his name suggests who got my dad through my brother’s illness and suicide. But it was Rip, a tan and white Jack Russell that my dad named this little fella after.

            Rip was tenacious when needed but mostly laid back and a joy to be with. As a small girl he was my best friend, living in a small village of twenty seven houses he was my only friend. I was the original Billy No Mates by destination, if not personality. He saved me from at least two situations that I will be eternally grateful for.

            The first was a certain attack by a feral Alsatian. I wanted to help the dog, he looked worst for wear and needed a good feed but he didn’t trust me, I could see that. As he slinked his way over, with his ears pricked up and eyes fixed on me, Rip was having none of it and started to growl, as I turned to tell Rip to quieten down the dog lunged forward. Rip caught him and latched on to his gonads and would not let go despite the surprised and big dogs best efforts. With every tactic he used to get Rip off, came a fresh yelp. This continued until they were out of sight. I will never forget the cry of that poor dog as he ran with Rip still latched on, both of them jumping down the road, one in pain and the other trying to hold on for all he was worth. I still am astounded at the sight of it and the way Rip just would not let go even though it must have been painful for him. He could hardly reach the big dog’s soft undercarriage and had to bounce on his back legs to keep up.

            The second time was when I was on my own in the house and there was a knock on the back door. I lived in a line of six council houses in the middle of nowhere. No one I knew came to the back door and at first I thought it was one of my brothers larking about. But there was something in Rips stance that made me wary. I tucked Rip under my arm opened the door ready to give my brothers what for, when I looked to see who it was I stood paralysed to the spot. A strange man stood there. I can’t say why I was afraid of him but I was. The man rambled on about something, while he looked at me and I recoiled from him. Rip never took his eyes off the man’s throat; I could feel every muscle in that little dog tense up. The stare went from me to Rip, who was in prim position to jump on the man. Rip never showed his teeth and I couldn’t say he was snarling but there was a low rumble, deep and menacing. The man asked me quite pleasantly to put the dog down. When I refused he said he would tell my dad about that, with which I replied ‘That’s OK mister I’ll be telling him you called at the back door’. All of a fluster the man left.

            Now I have no idea if the man meant me any harm, we weren’t taking any chances in finding that out but the man never came back. From then on I used Rip as my people barometer and learnt to trust my instincts. I shudder when I look back on that day the possibilities are endless, none of which are pleasant.

            When ever one of our dogs died, our dad would find it hard to get over the loss. We would have to wait years before we had another enter our home. This time it took my dad a decade or more to contemplate it again, with reasons of time constraints a dog can place on you, then of course was his age, he is now seventy seven, was it faire to take on a dog when you are getting on in years. I always told him that that’s exactly when you needed a dog the most. They get you out and about keeping you active. A dog walker could come in, if it ever became a problem or we could get one of those mobility scooters Angus would love that. I would be there if he needed help.

            The pull of this puppy took him back into his past and gave him a positive look to the future, with his granddaughters encouraging him to take it on (poor man didn’t stand a chance once the girls had made up their minds).

        Dad has been thinking about the walks he will be able to take Rip on; there is nothing like daily walks for your emotional and physical constitution and the nature he would see, would mean that my dad would never stops learning, he has an inquisitive mind.  What with training the little dog, showing him off and having the comfort of his company, will keep his spirits youthful and his brain active but most of all the mischief. What the old boy and dog will get up to brings a broad smile on my face and warmth in my heart. My mum (not renowned for being a dog lover) is looking forward to it all too, mostly cuddles on the sofa, just hope he leaves their shirts intact the other Rip had a thing about buttons on shirts.

Wonder what they are up to?

            Will keep you posted.

No Bacon Rolls but is he still ready for GCSE's? Oh and I sacked Tink this morning.

We decided to give the bacon rolls a miss this morning, it was cinnamon cereal that he left and I felt a little deflated. Then I had to dismiss Tink from her duties, which made me grumpy. Dogs and children know how to make you feel really mean.

            Each morning I take Tink upstairs to wake Axl and Ella up, there is nothing like a cold wet nose to get you going in the morning and they don’t tend to tell her off like they would if it was me, not that I have a cold wet nose.

            This morning when she jumped on Axl’s bed she just lay down next to him and curled up. When I asked her what she thought she was doing and that he had to get up. She looked intently at me and that look spoke volumes, leave him alone he needs his rest! She told me off. I tried to encourage her to go under the covers to give him his usual licks but she wasn’t having any of it. I called her into Ella’s room but there was no way she was leaving Axl. So I went and did the dead myself, getting the normal response from my darling daughter, which consisted of a grunt and ‘Oh for heavens sake mum’.

            I carried on with my daily ritual thinking that just the presence of Tink would be enough to get my eldest out of bed. A while later I went to check on progress. Angus was dressed, had brushed his teeth and now was having breakfast, Ella was titivating and where was Axl? Yep you guessed it, curled up around Tink.

            Tink looked up as I walked in and gave me that motherly stare of, back off he needs time. I sacked her on the spot, was she bothered, bothered, she was not. Axl flung his protective arm around her. I had to go on waking duty myself and got the same response from my ever loving son that I got from darling daughter. Did I feel mean? You bet!

            Time is so sad, don’t you think? It can give us moments of pleasure but mostly we have to walk away from those moments when we least want to. If I had time, I would have taken a picture and stood there for a while smiling at the two of them, somehow, as a reward for being a mum. But Axl needs time in the morning to de-fluster his flusterble personality and I need reassurance he has everything and set for the day. Time is of a premium in the mornings with no margin for deviation. Yep time makes ya sad.

            Our family does not run like a well oiled machine, especially in the mornings. Ours is more a kin to a knackered out old thing that somehow rumbles along, totally inefficient but gets the job done somehow. I run from one break down to another fixing the beast as best as I can. I have been working on a time travel mechanism, hoping to incorporate it into our family machine but as yet have dismally failed. Though by writing this perhaps I have captured it a little and past some on to you.

            Have a great day x

I Stayed and We Played

Some Mothers can do endless feats

Their children delivered on time

Right place clean face

Oh no! Not me

Wrong venue at a different time

Their faces covered in chocolate

Oh Hell! Now we’re really late

I’ve tried to clean the house

The garden is a bit of a state

And the dinner not yet on the plate

And it’s half past eight!

Oh! Where have I gone wrong wrong?

A super mum I ain’t

But I stayed and we played

And what fun we made

So forgive me my son and daughter

For not doing as I oughta

But we played tag

And I caught ya

And gave you lots of

Hugs and kisses too

I think this much nicer than

Me being a super mum

Don’t you?

I wrote this many years ago before GCSE’s became a reality for us but I like to read it on flustered days like this one, to remind me of the real importance of life and how time fly's.

When I wrote the poem

 then and now

Breath through the pain of motherhood, soon there will be a smile x

We live for short moments x

Add some of your 'then and now' pics on my comments or e mail them to me. They will hate us for it, but hey whats new x

GESE Bacon Rolls at the Ready

My heart goes out to all of you doing your GCSE’s or any exam for that matter. After three all in a row with two on the same day next week Axl, rightly so, is finding it quite stressful. When I mentioned bacon rolls he perked up a little. So I got up the next morning bright and early and started to cook the bacon. Not sure that bacon was the best thing on a stressed out tummy? With rumbles of anxiety and pangs of self doubt but a mum will try anything to bring a little light relief.

I placed the bacon roll on the table. This was promptly snatched by his little brother and devoured, due to Axl deciding to take a shower. As far as Angus was concerned anything on the kitchen table in the morning was fair game. No probs I said I’ll make you another one, which was swiftly eaten by his sister, while he busied himself getting ready. Not to worry I said at his amused yet slightly flummoxed face. Knowing Ella would be titivating up stairs and Angus would be busy being Luke Skywalker outside, I sat down and talked to him while he pushed his roll around his plate.
 
We rambled on about non important stuff for a while and how he enjoyed playing against his dad in a football match last weekend, a conversation that had us both smiling, boys will be boys. All too soon we had to be leaving for school.
 

It was only when we got to school, that I saw my reflection in the windows. My hair was a mess and I had just thrown on the first thing that came to hand, not a good combination and to make matters worse I had lost my eyes due to the pollen count, they now were very swollen and red. This was not a trend setter moment. Well when I got home and saw in detail the full effect of it all, I was horrified.

While I tried to occupy my day I looked back on the conversation we had and at the way things had turned out with the disappearing bacon rolls, I smiled, that inward warm smile. I know that he would’ve already forgotten the little time we had spent together. I was now being replaced by a non-fiction English paper, such is life.

All of it was worth it though, looking like a tired old lady and cooking a mound of bacon knowing the one who it was meant for, would just take a mouthful, if that. Just to see his face relax into that familiar boy again, smiling at his mum, worth every wrinkle?

My How the pups have grown

The first two stages of a puppies life may appear to be non eventful at first the puppy flounders about a kin to a turtle on dry land, trying to suckle and then flopping into what appears to be a deep coma. Soon though, it starts to hold its head up and slowly the eyes open giving them a distorted view on their surroundings. In these four weeks the pups are confined to the den so their eyes need to be protected from light.

            But these four weeks are fascinating though, if you look closely at the bitch and the pups interaction. Intensely in-tune the bitch has an innate clock that I soon became part of. I got to know when she would want to rush outside and do the necessary and then get back to her pups. When she would need feeding and when she needed some well deserved fuss.

            Tink had this come see expression; even at the birth, she encouraged me to take part and never minded the children’s respectful presence. She would proudly look as we cooed and marvelled at the new arrivals. With every change her pups went through she would use that intense stare to encourage me to look closer at her offspring and take note. I came down one morning to that intent look and found that Amber’s eyes were open. We had to wait a further two days for Rips to slowly get bigger until they finally opened. Their little pug noses lengthened to reveal their muzzle as they grew into their faces. They sniffed us intently getting to know our sent.

            The next four weeks had them going from a tummy shuffle movement to walking slightly unsteady, curious but hesitant, to full on rumbles with each other and mum. Slowly they explored the ever widening world around them. Attacking feet with needle like teeth. Anything on the floor was fair game and squeaky toys a must have whether anyone else has it or not. Pouncing was being perfected and the very first tries ended up with the puppy on its back. I started to put liquidised food down for them increasing the lumps as I went, until I found them devouring their mother’s food. Tink sat there watching them ironically bemused by this event she then turned her gaze to me. Moving slowly over to the pups bowl she feeds silently on her own wondering why her pups don’t appreciate good food.

            Towards the end of the eighth week you can begin to get a good idea of their personalities, traits and how best to influence their training. It is worth remembering that every sound and object is unusual and quite freighting to them. In Rips case so are shadows, he learnt a good barking technique at shadows.

            I started to take the pups to school in the car right from the word go. Now this is not something I would recommend and in truth I didn’t like doing but Tink was insistent. She would run to the car and back again getting more and more agitated that I was not doing as I was told. From then on in we took the pups. I used a carrier crate to keep them safe and put a lot of bedding in to keep them warm.

            Training came into play at an early stage. At around five weeks, as they make their way towards me I clap my hands encouraging them and when they reach me I gave a lot of praise as they got older a treat was always waiting for them. When ever I took them out ‘to be clean’ as soon just as they achieved a wee or a number two I would reinforce with ‘clean boy/ clean girl’. Now as we trot out side I always call out ‘come be clean’.

            For meeting and greeting purposes I would put the pups in an old handbag to keep them warm and safe but they all too soon got too heavy so now I have adapted an old stroller so that I can tie the pups in and they can see Tink on her walks. I have also been walking them around the garden with their leads on and mum in front so they can see what to do. As with everything you do when teaching timing is always important, putting the lead on in a quiet and calm manner is never easy and very time consuming but it will pay you back in dividends later on when they just go through the ritual. Today I will be putting them in a harness in the car so they can sit with mum and taking them to school that way. I wonder what Tink will think to this and of course how will the pups cope. I will let you know

Waiting for the Pups



Tink Just before the birth of her pups

Has the time come yet? I keep asking myself but I guess I will only know for sure when the puppies have arrived. So I just sat and waited, not allowed to move too far from Tink’s side as she nudges my hand to where she wants to be stroked. For days now this waiting game has been going on, ever since I had the scare. We were walking in the morning sunlight with a big teddy bear of a lab and his human, having a very pleasant time, when out of the corner of my eye I saw what looked like a sack hanging from Tink. Well I tried to encourage Tink to walk faster and in the direction of the car but she was defiantly not of the mind to do so.

            Like I said you only know for sure once it’s all over and you look back and only then can you see all the signs and forget all the ones you took heed over but never came to anything.

            I was playing the waiting game, ever ready and vigilant trying to be patient, as she paced always restless unless I was stroking her tummy or she was near my feet. This time nearly six years ago I was waiting for Angus to arrive so I marvel at what looked and felt like a bundle of rocks moving in her stretched tummy. I must say I’m very glad I only had one baby at a time.

            As the birds sang in the spring and dandelions scattered the yet to be cut lawn life bursting from every place you looked at and I must say I was missing our walks, you just can’t beat a good walk at this time of year.         

            I slept down stairs a couple of nights around her due date and contemplated taking her temperature every few hours so I could notice the change thus predicting the birth within twelve hours or so. Looking at Tink and thinking about how I felt about intervention when I was giving birth, I decided that it was best to look and listen to nature. So on the 26^th March I looked intently at a sprightly Tink before I went to bed. She took herself off to bed and went to sleep. Reassured I did the same. That Sunday morning I woke with a start, jumped out of bed and as soon as I opened the kitchen door Tink raced to her bed but didn’t get in. I took her bed to her favourite place in the living room and wheeled the little radiator (which I had got to keep the pups warm) in. She jumped in her bed, waited for my hand and then relaxed.

            I was there for the long haul, after all these things can take time. Not with Tink though within minutes she had given birth to the first pup. Her job she had looked at me and told me was done now it was my turn. I waited a while for her innate mothering instinct to kick in but nothing doing. So I broke the sack and presented the head of the pup to her and as though someone had switched on the power Tink took over. She swallowed the placenta giving the right distance between pup and where the cord should be cut. The cord was tough and as she chewed I held the pup ready to catch so it did not drop to the floor and between us we did an ok job. Tink was not happy with the jaded edges of the cord though. She looked at me and i at her and we both notted that we should do better next time. The little girl was a good size and soon found her mum’s milk.

           

 I rang Axl to get down and to wake the rest of the family up. I knew I could rely on him to have his phone by his ear even when sleeping. By the time they had got to us the second pup was on its way and with a serenity and reverence the little boy entered the world at 7.30. I was feeding Tink ice-cream not any ice-cream Oh no it was made with cornish clotted cream, that would give her strength and aid milk production. She lovingly looked on surprised and proud of her little brood. They were big strong pups but I thought there could be more so I was careful when she asked to go out side, running around with her on a load and boy did she run fast to get back to her pups!

I rang the vet to make sure I was doing the right thing in waiting and he was as excited as I was, reassuring me that everything sounded as if all was ok, just be vigilant and if she strains for any length of time or I felt in the least concerned then just ring back.

            All of us had a wonderful day just mesmerised by the wonder of it all and we still are, although now the pups have teeth, Tink has lost some of the wonder. The day after the birth I took her to the vets as I was expecting a lot more yucky stuff, she was given an x-ray to make sure she was clear (this is the only time Tink cried or got upset but as soon as she was back with the pups she was a happy mum again) and the pup’s the once over by a very excited vet. The vet and Tink cooed and kissed the pups making sure they were ok. I looked on with a huge smile on my face.

                       

I know Tink, you do the hard work and they just sleep on!

we all have puppy love in our house

Local Librarian All of aFlutter

Heather loved working at the library and was impressed with her little sleepy town for putting so much effort in to keeping it open. It had now been turned into a meet and greet centre with book clubs and local writing groups making good use of their conference rooms. She was also proud of her staff, nothing seemed to make them happier than indulging her in her bright ideas but she had to admit the colourful rainforest was a stroke of generous, even for her.

Neville had helped them get it right and even brought Burt in with his three colourful ladies, for that extra special flavour of the Brazilian habitat. Burt was Neville’s eighteen year old blue macaw that talked and loved to perform. They had entertained the children and the adults looked impressed too. It helped that the latest Disney film had been released and the plight of the birds within the pet industry had some how struck a cord of utter disgust in their little world. Perhaps it had more to do with the passion of Neville; he was a bit like Burt in many ways; a chatter box everyone wanted to listen to and the ladies loved him feathered or human. Once you had the mums hooked the children had to follow, Heather loved a cunning plan.

It was all packed away now just the central tree to tackle. A sleepy Sunday afternoon was the ideal time. Heather had made busy getting everything back to normal so when the quiet poet came on Monday he would have the tranquillity he needed. He got distracted easily and would worry at the slightest detail, a blank canvas was best for him. Though once on his feet and reading his poetry and answering questions he did command his audience. They were lucky enough to have him came twice a year and they were now charging five pounds, which included wine or coffee, making it more of an event. So that is why she took out the steps and found herself, in this perched position.

The branch that she was now sitting on was in-fact an old beam that had blended in well with the theme of a forest. It had been a little bothersome while she tackled cutting the straps that anchored the pretend branches to the trusted beam. Taking the main tree down in stages from the very top would be easier and a lot safer she had thought. Well it would have been if she hadn’t climbed on the beam and her leg had not got so excited that it pushed the ladder over.  

The likelihood of anyone coming in this afternoon was slim to zero and it had taken her an hour to ring round everyone she could think of to pick the ladder up. It would have been so simple if only she could get through to someone. She had even contemplated climbing down but would rather feel foolish about knocking a ladder down than breaking a leg. The mobile reception in the library was poor so was unable to through to anyone; eventually she knew she would have to try to make a call to the fire station. Failing that it would have to be a 999 call.

Her dad and brother were on the same shift at their local fire station and as it was dad’s last day and the end of his shift, she new she would never live it down. She could just picture the gathering around the Sunday roast telling the story of when Auntie Heather got stuck up a tree in the library on the day he retired. She took a deep breath as the phone rang out loud against the quiet of the still room. After briefly explaining her predicament they insisted that they could not just pop out to give her a hand Oh no! They were on duty. It had to be a full on emergency, think of the publicity they had said. They had put her on loud speaker too, she could hear everyone laughing.

She had been sitting there now for an hour and a half knowing they would have their network of family and friends getting all the people they could think of to make the most of this situation for the benefit of the community they would say but the enjoyment of finally catching her out would be their strongest prey drive!

The sirens were screaming out her embarrassment as closer and closer came their call. She could hear lots of people too. She could see the headline now ‘Local librarian all of a flutter’. Well if you’re going to be the main exhibit you might as well enjoy it, just think of Bert she told herself ruffle up those feathers the show must go on.

There had been applause and many laughs as she was ‘fireman lifted and man handled’ down from her perch in an un-ceremonial and truly embarrassing way. This was not helped by the very pretty blue dress she had worn, thank heavens she had put her thick leggings on.

The reporter concentrated on the mobile phone is a life saver that we rely on but when the signal is bad who ya guna call? A good angle Heather thought and very kind of him and went some way in making up for the Photos he made her pose for. He also gave a lot of much needed publicity for the library and the events they were going to hold in the next few weeks. This was worth the strife she would get for the next week or two. But it would never make up for the lifetime of grief from her ever loving family and had turned out to be a true retirement gift for her dad.

So what are Kilobytes Megabytes and Gigabytes

Can anyone explain whats going on with
the KB, MG, and GB

Here I sit yet again looking out of my goldfish bowl of relative safety into the ocean of life with all its wonders, fascinations and danger. In the last few weeks I have been keeping up with the world events through my laptop. The internet is convenient good to use and a joy and I most certainly feel more connected to people all over the world but what does it cost?

            I received my monthly internet bill and taking a closer look at my download/upload I was at first confused, what, I wondered were kb, mb and gb? And why was it so high. So with more than a little trepidation and in a state confuddlement I picked up the phone. Pleasantly surprised that the person on the other end spoke English, even so, I didn’t understand the words that he was using.

            I explained, the best I could the usage we have in our house for the four machines and that I was worried it was my pictures that I put on my blog that caused the rise in usage. He explained that for my privacy he couldn’t directly see what I was doing but he could get a more detailed print out of what bite usage I had used. I had no idea what this all meant so he explained. Bits turn into bytes. Ok I got that. He then explained a KB = killer_Byte  and is the smallest usage, then it’s MB = Mega_Byte then GB = Giga_Bite. I got stuck on why a Giga is bigger than Mega cos Mega is big! And why doesn’t the Killer kill them all by biting their heads off and that would be an end to it! Honestly why does everything have to be so confusing.

            I didn’t say that though, well not then. He said he would have a look and see what I was putting on my blog and see if he could explain things a little more for me. Now that’s what I call service.

            He rang back and he too was perplexed at the print out. My usage was the equivalent of 27 films downloaded. That’s when I plucked up enough courage to show my ignorance at the whole Mega thing. He had gone far beyond the call of duty and read a piece on my blog and found an analogy that I would be able to understand how the charges work.

            Are ya ready; this is most defiantly a Tilly Moment and who knows you may find it useful too, if not, it may make you smile.

            ‘Imagine you are travelling on a toll road’ he said. Well I was in my Pink vw of course with a flower on the side and the soft top down with my fairy next to me enjoying the ride, it was a sunny day. Are you there yet! Have you the image in your mind? Good. Just for fun I told him too, he took it with good humour.

‘Now you pay us to use the Toll road but you still have to get across and you need fuel for that and the faster you travel the more the fuel consumption and the more costly it becomes. Does this make sense so far?’

            Well my fairy and I were too busy enjoying the ride to really be bothered with the technical stuff but snapping my self of the daydream I asked

            ‘So the KB, MB and GB are the different fuels?’

            ‘If ya like’

            ‘So what you’re saying all this time my little pink convertible vw was taking me along at a steady KB speed reaching a MB speed occasionally but someone was sticking GB fuel in when I didn’t know. I was a little miffed at paying for something and not knowing or not being able to enjoy it.

            The worst thing of all you rarely know how many KB, MB or GB you are using as there is no fuel gage on your computer for you to see. As a consequence you may, like me be using the jet fuel and not realise it. Even worse if a download gets rejected and tries to download time after time the cost would reach giga proportions (this giga thing is not working for me mega is defiantly a better word).

            Anyhow I’m left with the image of a beautiful toll road with me and the fairy in the Pink vw in warped speed (in Tilly’s world this means travelling fast but thinking slow) with our faces a little distorted.

            Have managed to find that if you press Ctrl+shift+Esc go to networking then view press on Colum then add bytes, down load, upload  you can see your usage but it’s a monitor and you have to keep on and keep looking at, so not that user friendly. Then you have to use the Bytes to figure out how many kilobytes, megabytes, and gigabytes that you use. 1024 Byes = 1kb, 1024 kb = 1 mb, 1024 mb = 1 GB.

            Now off to swim for a while, its all got too much!

when a bitch is in pup and the bitch is a much loved pet you become the birthing partner



Tink likes to be by my feet while I work



So how is Tink doing? Oh she is fine it’s me that you need to worry about. There is a lot more to this birthing partner business than you would think.

There are some breeders that have to have full control, with scans and thermometers to predict how many puppies and as the body temperature drops this lets you know birth is going to take place fairly soon. Talking to the vet and reading a fair amount on the internet with everyone’s views duly considered I took the approach that my vet advised me, to have less intervention and closer bonding.

            Tink would not make a fuss at having a cold implement shoved where the sun don’t shine but I know she would sit down a lot while I tried to take her temperature and look round with the expression of ‘Honestly, you really going to do that again, what is your problem’. But I must admit that knowing how many puppies would be an advantage. But from my personal experience scans can only be a guide (I was carrying twins and they could not see the second twin, how on earth can they tell if there are five or six pups?). So the stress for us to have these procedures out weighs the possible gains.

            So, even more than ever I’m tuning into Tink's energy. It really is like the old fashioned radio, you know like the ones with the dials that you keep going back and forth feeling the vibrations until you know you have it right. I’m always on the look out for a change in her frequency.

            Well it came to last Tuesday night (8^th March 2011) just under seven weeks gestation and I noticed that Tink's posture had changed, not uncomfortable but more unwell. I looked at her gums and they looked paler, skin of a salmon, normally they would be a pink candy floss colour. Well I went straight to my laptop and googled, there were three possibilities. Low blood pressure (would go with pregnancy and due to give birth, though this was a little early) the reflux in her gums was good though (when pushed down they soon went back to original colour) so I ruled that out. Preeclampsia, due to too much calcium given in the diet, I was told by the vet to give her puppy food and cottage cheese, well there were a lot of scare stories on google etc. about how wrong this is. I took the view that dogs are as individual as people are and for some they may need this and some it may cause problems. It didn’t feel that this was the right explanation though. The third possibility was dehydration, this seemed more likely, so there I am on the floor at nine at night feeding a reluctant Tink ice cubes. Once she had taken the first one there was no stopping her and I knew I was on the right track.

            The Next day I bumped into the Owner of www.happydogdays.co.uk which I do quite often when out walking and asked her advice. She immediately put my mind at ease and gave me some advice on how to get Tink interested in food again. So I rushed home and made rice with broccoli to keep the iron in her diet but not the calcium. Not any old rice, oh no, not for my Tink ;-) but wild rice to give texture and aid digestion none the less. I gave a little home cooked chicken (so no added salt will be given) and pushed it into the rest of the food as Tink is partial to my lemon and garlic chicken. Kev was looking forward to his chicken sandwich which always follows a roast and was bitterly disappointed, he’ll get over it, eventually.

She warms my feet

             Well six very small meals later with ice each time and the colour has come back a little and Tink has a little of her old spring back; was going to say spring in her step but she can’t manage that due to being too big. Now everyone, animal or human is treated this way when they come into my care and for those of you that have kept up with my blog and know me as a writer or personally, will be waiting for the fluffy fairy bit as my flight of fancy takes off. So here it is.

             

            Well talking to two friends the other day who were asking how Tink was getting on, I thought I would have a little bit of a laugh, recounting some of the things I find myself doing from time to time for the welfare of my little fluffy pooch. There is nothing better than seeing friends laugh. I then recounted happenings of last year that I keep threatening Kev with, a dog’s buggy! Let me explain.

            We were walking along Felixstowe prom one summer last year when Kev did a double take and exclaimed some people take things too far. Looking around to see what caused this reaction. I saw a Pug sitting proudly in a blue dog’s buggy, with its owners like proud parents pushing it along. Taking in the full scene, I noted the couple were elderly and had three other small breed dogs trotting along with them. On closer inspection I saw the Pug was old but obviously getting a great deal of pleasure from sniffing the air and being out and about. I said nothing and just smiled.

            A little later we sat eating our ice creams when I told him I could see no wrong in having a buggy for a dog. His expression was priceless as a mixture of, you need a reality check and where oh where did that come from, burst from his face as he chocked on his ice-cream. Just when you think you know someone his eyes told me they go and say something outrageous.

            Look I said as the elderly couple went slowly past. The poor old pug would never be able to keep up with the others I explained, what choice do they have? Leave the old one home alone? Or put it in a buggy and just as I said this they took the Pug out and let it have a little wonder. It was everything a Tilly moment should be and will keep it as a little treasure to get out when we are old.

            ‘Well’ I said to my friends but they already knew what was coming.

‘Your not’ said Judith, Sue was looking at me giggling.

‘Well’ I said ‘it would make sense, wouldn’t like to leave the pups behind and Tink needs her walks.’ At this point I was joking but now I come to think of it until the pups are 12 weeks, they should not be put on the floor for the fear of them picking up Parvovirus disease before they can be vaccinated, but need good socialising. The children at Angus’s school would love to see her pups and Tink loves to see the children, so perhaps I should give this some thought and invest in a dog’s buggy, what do you think?



She is sooo worth it x



Contemplating marriage and bring up children do I have a right to be grumpy?

Contemplating marriage and bring up children after being told I was just full of frills on my puffed up fairy life and that I had no understanding of reality (I took this as a compliment I have to say) I watched the Richard Dimbleby Lectures given by Michael Morpugo (my hero of gentle thought) and was inspired. His ‘The Butterfly Lion’ gave me faith in how I look at things and as soon as I can I’m going to buy ‘The Kites are Flying’ that he based his lecture around. His books are written for children but defiantly have adults in mind.

I woke up grumpy one morning this week and by hook or by crook I want to stay grumpy. I deserved at least that, don’t I? I have a right to be how I feel, don’t I??  I feel surly and cantankerous, wizened and old and life-just don’t ever play fair!! My children are always saying this when they can’t get what they want and what is good for them is also good enough for me, so there!!! All I want is five minutes peace.

But my fairy just won’t let me be she fly’s around my thoughts and always lands at some point as a smile upon my face. You might say this is a good thing, that being grumpy is a bad thing to be but sometimes you need to vent and people definitely need to know you also have limits but The Fairy just don’t see it that way. My fairy is a beautiful flight of fancy with frills and a puffed up attitude to life, you just have to read some of my poems and stories to see that. She sees life in such a fanciful way with no basis in reality or that’s what I was told the other day. Is this true? Or is there a large dose of reality in her fluff and frills? So what was making me grumpy and why on earth did I want to stay in that state? Do you know, I can’t remember, so lost was I in another flight of fancy of Michael Morpurgo.

There are people right now starving, hiding from danger watching as others suffer so the rich can thrive. There will be many; who will be given bad news about a disease, that fighting will not cure. Some will be harmed through another’s hand. All these things have touched me and may others, indirectly or directly. For all of you out there that face these issues I pay homage to your tenacity to smile and your ability to hope.

I have no right to be grumpy, do I?

Able Mable and Anthony Dick

He knew all of her and she wanted to know and not just remember all of him, as she traced the falling crumbs down his bronzed and toned chest - right the way to his belt buckle and the promise beneath it. She noticed in the folds of his crouch that a little of the sandwich she had made had come to rest, sending her body into a downward spiral of pure desire and lust.

‘Mable’ came her grannies voice from the kitchen, ‘You remember Anthony Dick, don’t you; he was in your year I think.’

Mable put the Mills and Boon book down on her Grannies reading table.

            ‘Another Dick? Ye, sure. The only kid with a name worse than mine. Wow she thought. That was a name from the past. The memories came flooding back. ‘Gran you really ought to get out more’. She looked up from the book and was horrified.

            ‘Hi Able Mable’ Anthony Dick chuckled ‘good to see ya again. He came across the living room and shook her hand. Gone was the spotty teenager that she remembered and there stood a truly ‘fit’ (in every sense of the word) man.

She blinked hard a couple of times. The twinkle in her Gran’s eyes sparkled in the way that normally Mable would have smiled at but at this moment in time it only made her embarrassed and irritated.

            ‘I asked him round to give me a quote for a new house’ the amusement in her voice made Mable throw her a ‘now behave Gran’ sort of expression. She caught the delighted glee in Anthony’s face. He had always had a sense of fun.

            ‘What new house?’

            ‘On the land by the village pond’

Anthony filled her in ‘the one we used to hide in when we were kids being chased by Jimmy’

            Out of her memory banks lurked a picture. ‘The one with the beautiful barn?’ Gran nodded

            ‘Didn’t know you owned that Gran’ Mable still looked at Anthony transfixed by the transformation he had gone through. His gaze was as fixed and steady on her.        ‘Been waiting for the right time and person, to make the best of it; location and barn being what they are. Now you have had a couple of years to get to grips with architecture and Antony has had his own building business for eight years or so and knows what he’s doing. Well I thought, you would both do a good job together.’

            Mable was taken a back, she never realised her Gran had such big plans, though she had constantly encouraged her to become an architect, just like her Granddad had been. Now it seems, she was going to make full use of what she had nurtured.

            ‘Does mum know about this?’ She asked her Gran.

            ‘Not on your Nelly, she would have spent the money and put me in a home. So you have to keep it hush hush and no telling ya dad either, he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.

            Here’s a sketch of how me and ya Granddad envisaged it. Anthony knows the land and the housing market around here. I wanted to be your first client that you have.’

            ‘You certainly will be; haven’t even moved into the office yet!’ Mable loved her Gran she was everything she wanted to be. Sharp, witty and kind but didn’t suffer fools or overbearing and spiteful pompous prigs (which is what she called her mother). A no nonsense woman that loved life and the people around her with one exception, Mable’s mum.

            Mable was given the ugliest name by her mother because she was the ugliest baby, she had been told. There was no denying she was the scrawniest, thick black haired baby with piecing ugly blue eyes you could ever imagine. But in spite of her mothers best efforts she turned into a good looking girl; a little late perhaps but as Gran had told her some of the best things in life are worth waiting for. Now in her twenties about to embark on her thirties she was elegantly tall and womanly, with a joyful disposition which was a miracle her Gran would say.

            ‘Well off you go then, have fun. Don’t forget these and take good care of her Tony my boy, she drinks heavily when she’s thinking’.

            ‘Gran’ Mable protested. But Gran pushed the young ones out of the house with genial contentment and they took their leave.

            Mable could see her Gran peaking at them through the curtains and turned and stuck out her tongue and smiled, as she always had done. It was good to be back in the village, now she could see her more often. She breathed deeply the crisp spring air and the new grass and buds. She turned to Anthony and asked

            ‘Do you prefer to be called Tony or Anthony?

            ‘He shrugged which ever you’re comfortable with. What about you, you happy with Mable?’

            ‘I go as May at work and to my friends’

            ‘So May it is. I’ll take you in my truck. Save you drinking and driving’

            ‘Why? Where we going?’

            ‘Your Gran gave me orders to take you out, wine and dine you, while I talk you through her plans.’

            ‘No need, we could go back to my office.’

            ‘Trying to get me killed? Or just wanting her to have my guts for garters?’

            ‘You know her that well? Lord we had better do as we’re told. Wouldn’t want a death by Gran; after you managed to escape from Jimmy’s efforts to kill you. Talking of the devil what does he do now?’

            ‘He works for me.’

            ‘You’re kidding me.’

            As they got in his impressive truck with his logo on the side, May tried to get her head around what she had just been told. Jimmy was the village bully that had relentlessly hounded Mable and Anthony. Some how, she would have to meet Jimmy again just to see how the dynamics of these two had turned out. She will have to grill Tony and get the lowdown.

            ‘So which pub are we off to?’

            ‘Your Gran booked it up. Never been there before, ‘Cat ‘n’ Mouse’ I think she said it was.’

            ‘Oh!’

            ‘Is it that bad?’

            ‘Oh you’ll have a good time. The food is great and the surroundings (not that you will notice) are beautifully understated and the atmosphere relaxed and warm.’

            ‘So why the “Oh”?’

            ‘Gran, I think is trying to write a ‘Mills and Boon’ romantic noval with us as the main characters’.

Tony looked across at May. Confused, he took in her words again by repeating them to himself. He mulled them over and then the meaning hit him. His smile was board while his eyes glistened like they always did when they were young.

            ‘I love your Gran’

May rolled her eyes and giggled. ‘As I remember it Tony, writing was not your strong point and romance was a definite no, no.’

            ‘Oh but I’ve grown up since then, I still can’t write but I can do romantic’

            ‘What ‘Mills and Boon’ romantic?’

            ‘You want ‘Mills and Boon’ I will give ya ‘Mills and Boon.’

            ‘From what I just read, could we just go with romantic?’ His laugh had not changed, it filled her with a fun bubble that had kept her sane through all the ugly years and still had the same effect. Yep! She thought, it was great to be back where she belonged.

             

Patience they say is a virtue?

After a couple of weeks of little frustrations, such as washing machine, tumble dryer and dishwasher deciding they had had enough and quit working (I couldn’t blame them). I replaced them only to find the replacements had issues going on and we had to wait for their replacements. Then the car decided to have moments likened to a toddler having a tantrum, deciding it was going no further at the most inconvenient time! I know no time is convenient but when I had three places to be at the same time, making the calls while a line of traffic built up, with a tractor driver offering to push the car to one side for me while the children where shouting questions of importance, can make you a little overwrought and jaded around the edges. They just needed to give me time but they all seemed unwilling. Finally the car calmed down and started and the tight country lane was in full flow again.

Imagine then, how happy I was on that Friday evening to finally open a bottle of wine, escape upstairs and enter my in-a-sanctum of my beautiful new en-suit. Scented candles gave a pleasant and relaxing ambiance of a tropical beach. So realistic was the mood that I was sure even before switching on the shower that I could feel the water lapping at my toes. Alas it was not my imagination, there really was water lapping at my toes. My in-a-sanctum is no more. Life can be full of events that test your patience to the limit!

In the two years since this happened despite many men coming to look and scratch their chins and two new doors replacing the old Leakey one. I still have no flooring down, due to the leak that still persists through the seam in the door. I had said right from the start that I thought it was a design fault. Three men looked around at me, the shower man; the plumber and my poor husband, they indulged my theory only two years later did they believe it!

Patience they say is a virtue that will be rewarded, what I would like to know is when!

Tink an up-date.

I’m no expert and I don’t want to go rummaging around to find out but if being off her food, not wanting to walk too far and her pacing me to the sofa at every given opportunity so that she can get herself comfortable on me is anything to go by, then yes, I think she is in pup!!

When I make a coffee at lunch time she wines at the living room door and when I open it so that she can go in, she stands at the door and looks deep within me and waits for me to understand. She considers it my duty to come and spend some time with her; after all it’s my fault she is in this predicament! I feel this vibe very strongly! Not normally stopping for lunch, it took me a couple of days to get the message but with her perseverance I have gained the enlightenment and I must say it has been a wonderful and therapeutic time for me.

I knew it was my duty to make sure that I have good homes for the pups, that I take every precaution to breed a healthy brood and I have. Meticulously going through every piece of advice ensuring that I understand it and when I’m given conflicting advice that I, think it through and do the best I can. What I had not anticipated was this strong feeling of empathy.

I hated being pregnant, it neither felt natural or comfortable and the sickness was not just in the mornings but 24/7. Tink is not just off her food but not eating at all!!!! I understand her reluctance to eat, I remember it well. I had this desperate craving for chocolate mouse, knowing it was going to resurface was none to pleasant either but the need to eat them was so strong I could not deny it. A few moments of pleasure for an hour or two of hell never seemed worth it but there, such is life. I have found a few ingenious ways to get her to eat a little and am hoping that soon her need to feed her growing pups, will take over and that her sickness will soon subside.

Then there is her effort to get up and bearing in mind the pups aren’t even showing yet and things are going to get worse is playing on my mind. I remember feeling my body had been taking over by an alien when I was first pregnant and the looks she gives me with those deep toffee eyes, I can see she feels the same, though much stronger as she has five/six little aliens growing inside her.

Taking time out of my day to fulfil her needs, looking at her changing ways and body, does give me a sense of wonder. Just by eye contact, looking at her demeanour, feeling the energy that pass between us and observing, it is surprising how much you can understand and communicate without words. This for me is the reason I love dogs so much, not the unconditional love they can give me but the way they make me look at life.

I feel this understanding would work with teenagers and toddlers alike. If we stopped looking at them as pre-programmable adults and just took time to breath deeply, observe and feel the energy that passes through us and them, perhaps our communication skills would be greatly improved along with our lives. It’s just a pity it doesn’t work with husbands, I have tried. Oh I can understand him and his needs but there is only one look he understands/takes notice of . I only have two types of energy apparently; angry or happy and nothing in-between gets noticed. Our communication is fine he would say, I understand him, what more do I want?

Someone to visit me in my goldfish bowl for a change?