My life has been like a whirlwind over the last seventeen months. I left my husband due to a whole list of reasons but one of the driving forces was that I was told that I was infertile. My reaction to this news was to get myself a fluffy baby to love. I already had one fluffy face in my life. His name is Frankie and he is some sort of terrier, he is a bit like a cross between and jack russell and a gremlin. He has crazy wiry fur and thinks that he is the size of a newfoundland. Frankie was seven at this point and I thought that he would appreciate a new baby just as much as I would.
So little Opie came to be in our lives. I thought that my ex husband would love him just as much as Frankie and I would and that we would have a complete little family. My expectations were sadly not met. Frankie hated him from the second that he lumbered clumsily into the house and ex husband was confused and disappointed that he was not ready trained as Frankie had been when he met him. Opie is a rottweiler x akita x german shepherd he was bigger than Frankie by the time he was eleven weeks old and now he is the size of a small pony. My plan to complete my family had back fired into giving myself double the responsibility with half as much support.
I made the decision to take my furry faces and leave. It was a good choice and Frankie seemed to get used to Opie so it was all going to be great. We moved in with friends of mine who had another one of the puppies from the same litter as Opie. Then joy of joys I fell in love again with lovely boyfriend, who loves dogs just as much as I do, so obviously has one of his own. Bandit is a husky x malamute and five months older than Opie. He also moved into the house I was living in which we nicknamed the puppy palace. This lasted for six months until the lease was up.
We were very happy there although having three adolescent giant puppies did come with a very steep learning curve. We lost four sofas, that’s right FOUR. We had to get a tumble drier as hanging clothes on the line was like setting up a super fun dog game of “eat the clothes” The original dog that had been there first responded to three new dogs in his territory by pooping in the living room every day. The kitchen was open plan and didn’t have a door so everything had to be clean and put away, we learned this the hard way when Opie stabbed my housemate in the leg with a kitchen knife. It sounds unbelievable but most knives have super fun to chew handles and yummy stuff on the pointy bit, a fact that Opie and Bandit learned quickly. Opie had gone to run upstairs to savour his stolen treasure and my housemate was walking down the stairs as he was going up. She didn’t need stitches or anything but its not a story that you ever expect to tell people.
When it came time for lovely boyfriend and I to start to look for somewhere to house our fluffy family we realised that it was going to be a bit of a challenge. Then after a trip to the doctor about back problems and an xray referral somehow I had defied medical science and was pregnant. Now we needed to find somewhere that we could afford, would take dogs, was not too far away from either of our jobs and would have room to put a baby in. Do you know how many landlords there are that want three dogs in their property? No? Let me tell you, there are about five of them in the whole bloody world. We moved into a house that was a bit too small and not in a great place. The agency said that it would all be fine. It then transpired that the landlord lived next door to the house he was renting out, and three days after we moved in we got a call from the agent telling us that the landlord wanted us to move out. Straight away. This is not the news that you want when you have spent every penny that you have on moving, when it had taken you two months to find a house that would have you and your hairy entourage and you were five months pregnant.
Lots of my friends assumed that we would rehome our canine pals and stay in our house. The had obviously never had a dog. Never come home to your sofa which was now big clouds of stuffing spread through out your home, covered in spit and the contents of your fridge, and found it impossible to be angry after looking into sets of big dark eyes that are super happy to see you and would love it if you would come and roll around in the new play zone that they made in your home.
Lovely boyfriend and I went on a crazed hunt, looking at houses in lunch breaks, in between jobs ( we were both working two jobs to try and get some money together for the baby ) so quite often alone as the other one was working. On several occasions in the time it had taken one of us to call the other to tell them about the house, or text pictures to each other, and then call the agent back another person would have taken the property. It was getting desperate, and then we found our house that we live in now. Its big enough for all of us, we can afford it, it’s near to both of our jobs and our fluffy family have a massive garden and a living room big enough for four sofas! They haven’t eaten any of them yet either. They have moved on to much cleverer ways of messing with me. This week I came home to find that Opie had opened the kitchen cupboard and taken half a bottle of toasted sesame seed oil and chewed it up on our bed. They have eaten four changing mats, two packets of nappies, a moses basket and two breast pumps. They have eaten about twenty toothbrushes, we have only just found the optimal spot in the bathroom that they cant seem to reach to devour them. Four toilet brushes have followed since so I had to buy a very expensive one with a metal handle and a ceramic base, this seems to have put them off, for now. We bought a new bed when we moved into our house six months ago. It is so broken already because Bandit and Opie break into our room and jump on it when we are out.
Everything I own is covered in dog hair. Friends that come over to see my baby always look slightly disapproving as they pick dog hairs off him, once they have recovered from walking the dog gauntlet to get to the baby. I know to most people having to walk around the woods in the rain and cold on a daily basis to keep your dogs at a level where they only eat some of your stuff, some of the time does not appeal at all. I know that other people wouldn’t want as many as we have ended up with.
I couldn’t care less though. I love each one of them for their great personalities and idiosyncrasies. My fluffy family is amazing and they are so generous wit the fluff that even the non canine members of this family get to be fluffy too. They are always overcome with joy every time I come home, or just wake up from sleeping. Bandit gets so happy that he does a little bit of wee. They are loyal to the last. They are a lovely pack, ruled by a crazed little man, who would use his giant buddies to take over the world if given the opportunity. I love them all and luckily lovely boyfriend has exactly the same attitude as I do.
Sometimes life can be a bit tough and this week that I have decided to join in with the CBWM challenge has been pretty god damned awful so far. When I was trying to decide what to write about I let the dogs in from the garden and they trod a million muddy footprints all over the freshly cleaned floor. I had to laugh. And then I thought I would share how happy and mad they make me all at the same time. Because when I don’t have them anymore my bad weeks will suck that bit more than they do now.