It is a well known rule of the universe that what goes up, must come down. Unfortunately for Keith and I they have been coming down pretty fast because when wallpaper and plaster is confronted with a set of determined dog teeth, about the only thing it can do is to wave a white flag.
There has been progress recently, not in the house which has remained stubbornly untouched, but in the behaviour of slinky dog.
Desperate to avoid more rabbit related incidents we have started taking Harry to the river at the weekends. This isn’t for purely selfless reasons you understand, exploiting a love of fetching sticks from a pool of lovely clean water means we don’t have to do any dog bathing when we get him home. Come the summer we’re debating taking a change of clothes and joining in the fun, although that seems a long way off at the moment when I am knee high in the river wearing calf length boots with cries of “I’ve only got trainers on” ringing from the banks.
It is a pretty idyllic spot this river of ours. So idyllic in fact we spotted no less than 3 groups of gothy teens wandering around dreamily on Sunday. Now correct me if I’m wrong, aren’t gothy teens supposed to be holed up in blacked out bedrooms, playing ‘meaningful’ music about how the world doesn’t understand them?!? Keith pointed out that since we live in the country there’s not much to do but walk around fields, but even so, it was more than a little surprising to see them voluntarily walking out in the sunshine and ... smiling!!!
The only explanation I can come up with is that word has spread about the funny looking dog and its slightly unhinged owners:
I will grant you, it’s not entirely usual to see a fully grown woman wading around a river playing chase and fetch with a dog who happens to look just like a mini sea monster when he’s swimming.
It’s not especially common to see said couple wandering through the fields mooing at a herd of cows and laughing hysterically when they respond.
I can even understand the inclination to point and laugh from passing cars when such a family of oddballs eventually wander back towards civilisation wet and windswept.
But is that enough to crowbar a notoriously introspective tribe from their caves I wonder, or is it maybe that they recognise in Harry one of their own?
Anyway, back to the wall, aaah yes the wall, or ‘ex wall’ as it now is. Harry finally discovered that the hallway was plastered with crème cheese held in place with wallpaper. He discovered this on Friday and has decided that it is his civil duty to help us rid said wall of all signs of crummy workmanship. A noble cause I think you’ll agree. The Dyson certainly doesn’t. It has taken exception to being filled with chunky of plaster and paper on top of the indignity of its current dog hair duties.
We’re at a bit of a loss with this latest behaviour I have to admit, the only real benefit being to Harry who gets the amusement of seeing us bound from the sofa and up the hallway like a pair of whippets with every strip of wallpaper he removes. He has even developed a very hurt look which he saves especially for these situations, after all, he’s just trying to join the house renovation efforts.
Despite these new tendencies, Harry is actually doing fairly well with his training, his recall is improving even when in a field, his fetch and leave commands are wonderful and his chewing of exposed limbs is second to none!! We’re told it will pass in about 4 months and 20 days, and until then … well there’s always Prozac.