Since Sunday night my home is playing host to a little furry lodger. My in-laws are taking a well deserved holiday and their Lhasa, Pebbles, has come to stay. She’s only 6 months old and is quite a handful for such a small dog.
I’m having the aquaint myself with the art of dog keeping too. Such things like taking her for a walk and having to say a polite hello to the local pitbull owners to make sure their charges don’t get an early breakfast. Sleeping with my head under the pillow is another one. Pebbles gets to sleep in the kitchen but doesn’t like being on her own, like all other month olds, and cries herself to sleep. On the up side, she nods off quite quickly and hasn’t had reason to bark like a mad thing during the night. Finally, I seem to have become responsible for her rear end too. I have to make sure she goes into the garden to take a canine leak and heaven forbid she takes one of her tardis style dump (such large shits for such a small dog, where does it all come from?), I have to pick it up in a bag and carry it to the nearest doggy bin without so much as a dry heave!
Pebbles biggest fans are my kids. The last thing you need first thing in the morning are two hyperactive school kids and a mental puppy bombing around our house but that is how it’s going to be for the next week or so. As much as we tell them not to wind the dog up, it seems they can’t help themselves and I have to balance the brief insanity with the damage Pebbles causes to the paintwork on the door when she gets banished to the kitchen with the door shut.
I’ve just got back from my first run around the park with the aforementioned pup and I do feel that I’ve been a little healthy. We’ve got 5 more puppy days left, each lap of the park is a kilometre or so, so I could rack up a fair distance this week. Perhaps having a dog isn’t so bad afterall!