Blue Dog, My First Born

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October 26, 2012 by kitcac

In the past six months, I have barely been away from JWop.  I can leave him with other people, but it usually involves me ringing to check up on things at 20 minute intervals.

So I have had to start a process of “weaning”.  I am weaning myself off JWop to gradually build up the time I can manage without him – he couldn’t care less who he’s with as long as there’s milk on offer.

On Wednesday I left him for 45 minutes to go to Aldi.  I rang my mum from the car park to see if he was ok.  I’d been away from him for about 7 minutes.

I was like this with the dog, to be fair.  If he was being looked after by someone else, I would ring repeatedly to make sure he hadn’t been whining (he hadn’t) or destroyed anything (he hadn’t).  He had no separation anxiety whatsoever.  I did.

After the successful 45 minute trip to Aldi on Wednesday, I decided to try a longer period on Thursday so I could spent some quality time with Blue Dog.  I left JWop with my mum again, I didn’t just go out.

The plan was that we’d go to the park and get muddy and trample through leaves and I’d have a hot chocolate at the cafe and he could have a swim.  Perfect.  So that’s what we did.

It took me four attempts to leave the house.  I had to keep checking windows.  I had to get my phone out of the car, but I’d locked my car keys in the house so needed to go back in.  I forgot dog treats.  I needed my hat and gloves and poo bags.

I am essentially a great big forgetting idiot.

It started off well.

Lovely autumn afternoon, freezing cold, had my new coat on and looked like a model of sorts with my rosy cheeks (albeit from a plus size catalogue).  Fabbo.

Blue was very well behaved.  He responds to signs and will stand to one side if you command him to when a cyclist passes.  Top dog.

I was a responsible dog owner and picked up the poop rather than kick leaves over it (swines!)

That’s when it started to go wrong.

Unbeknownst to me, my lovely five pound note must have fallen out of my pocket at this stage and so I got to the cafe to find I was skintarooni.  Gutted.

I retraced my steps as I was going that way anyway, which involved me trying to match up where I had stood to take a photo of some trees as Blue pooed.

It was a bit like that scene from the Goonies where Mikey discovers that the Fratellis’ restaurant matches up with the holes in the doubloon.  Only rather than find One Eyed Willy, I was trying to remember where my dog had pooed.

I never did find that fiver.  I was going to offer St Anthony a quid, but with all the leaves and everything, I didn’t hold out much hope, plus he’s had loads of money out of me over the years.

Then I spoke to a stranger (doh!) and ended up walking along with her (nooooooo!)

To get away from her, I had to power walk to get a bit of distance between us.  It was really quite tiring.

Finally I got out of the park and onto the main road, where I had to walk past my office.  I have an ongoing monologue when I’m with JWop, so naturally I just carried on chatting to the dog like I would to the baby, but probably appeared to be a raging nutter.

As I walked past the office, words popped into my mouth but I managed to stop them being uttered.  I pursed my lips tightly.

I had almost, almost, said to the dog “that’s where mummy works!”

I definitely need to spend more time with grown-ups.


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