***This is a sponsored post. All ideas are my own. Dog is someone else’s***
I am not a dog hater, but I have made it perfectly clear that I am also not a complete dog lover.
I have not loved many dogs in my life (we’re talking ACTUAL canines, not ex-boyfriends some of whom have been complete mutts), and I have strict criteria in order to even tolerate a dog.
These criteria are –
No shoe chewing
No incessant barking, yipping or whining
No leg humping ever
So, you see, what I really want is a cat. Or a dog that thinks it’s a cat.
You may think I sound like a ghastly dog hater, but it isn’t true.
Every now and then one sneaks under my shield and I have a little doggy moment, that leads to me fantasising about getting a pooch to throw sticks to, and scratch their silky ears as they gaze adoringly at me and never talk back, but then I remember dog land mines in the back yard, that disgusting licking sound as I try to watch TV and dog farts that clear a dinner party in five minute flat.
Until now Kiki has been terrified of dogs. She will freeze in her tracks if there is the need to walk past one, and I’ll have to carry her, and she has even been known to ball if a dog looks at her sideways.
But the tide has turned at Camp Holsby. The most terribly, wonderfully, awfully, incredibly exciting thing happened the other night…..
Aunty Kirsten came over with a pooch she was dog sitting.
Banjo didn’t jump.
He also only licked a very tiny bit, almost apologetically in fact. Like he didn’t really want to but felt he should show some doggy affection and his tongue would sneak out quickly and be gone again before you really knew it had happened.
Banjo smelled pleasant, and didn’t look amorously at my shin so I decided that he was a very cool little doggy.
Kiki fell in love. She wanted to touch him and sniff him, and head lock him all night, and D Man was equally smitten.
After Aunty Kirsten and Banjo left, the children gathered their toy dogs and Big Dog was renamed Banjo, and Dulux was renamed Barkey.
Banjo and Barkey played happily together for the rest of the evening and then they SIMPLY HAD to sleep in bed.
Aunty Kirsten bought Banjo again the following day, and I could see what was happening….. my hardened heart was softening to the idea, and my children were showing me that kids and dogs are meant to be together. Many children’s first best friend is a smelly old flea bag, and I was going to deprive my kids of this joy.
I could not steel myself from those sweet brown eyes, and gentle puppy soul. I could feel my resistance faltering. I was in deep trouble.
Have I changed my mind on the dog front?
Hell no. The last thing I need right now is another little creature that wants something from me, even if this sweet little creature is the only thing that gazes at me adoringly always and never talks back.
As soon as that sweet-faced, devil dog was gone the spell he had cast was broken, I could remember things like dog breath and fleas and Frontline, but the spell is still over my kids. Unless my heart is truly made of stone, I feel that sometime in their future I will get them a pooch after they convince me that they will look after the dog, walk it and clean up after it.
And we all know how that will end.
Tell me, do you have a pooch? Are your kids crazy about it?