This entry has been posted a little bit late. It’s been sitting in my ‘Draft’ box and I’ve been meaning to post it for a week or so.
Today we dropped off Charlie, our puppy, on her holidays visiting her mummy and sister. We’ve had Charlie six months now. She was a Valentine’s present for us both and the first evening we got her we went out for a lovely romantic meal. The pianist was playing, the fire was blazing, the wine and company was perfect, but all I could think of was, “Is the puppy ok? What if she escapes and hurts herself? How long should we stay away for? We really should get back soon.” I was like a new mum leaving her baby for the first time.
Since that first evening Charlie has become a huge part of our little family and we quickly notice when she’s not around. Now she was away we could leave shoes in the middle of the floor without fear of the dreaded shoe snatcher scarpering off with them and puncturing holes in the soles resulting in soggy wet feet on a rainy day. The gate would deliberately get left open knowing that the hundred mile an hour dog wasn’t going to make a break for it and land herself in the middle of Lancaster’s busiest round about. In the evenings we could spend as long as we liked going out for a drink without having to worry about getting home to let the dog out for a wee. Like exhausted parents clinging on to every last minute without the kids, we really made the most of being puppy-less.
On the other hand, I really missed our little girl. I missed the absent sound of the pitter patter of tiny little paws on the laminate flooring when walking from the kitchen to the hallway. When the sun was shining I expected to see her warming herself up on the sunny spot on the living room rug, like a cold blooded lizard on a sandy rock in a scorched desert. I missed having her on my lap, caressing her velvety soft black head and feeling her moist pink tongue tickling my ear. In the morning I missed being welcomed by her long drawn out stretch accompanied by a squeaky yawn, and having her sit politely as I gave her a morning pat and scratched her coarse white belly.
No doubt by the time we’ve picked up our little bundle of excitement from her holiday I’ll be yelling at Jonathan, ‘Would you get down here and throttle this dog for me! She’s just ripped another huge chunk out of the living room rug!” as Charlie poises herself ready for the chase, with that cheeky glint of white in her eye and multi-coloured tassles of rug hanging from her jowels like strands of flesh in the mouth of a starved wild hyena… but until that day arrives, I miss her.
