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The Mommy, The Big Dog, Moderation & A Car Ride

Today we went to The Mommy’s after she informed Bear that she’d made chippies, meatballs and strawberry cake especially for us… how can you turn down an invitation with a guilt trip like that.? She doesn’t seem to have understood that while family gatherings are allowed, she still has to observe the social distancing and regular hand washing regulations. I’m not sure what has to happen for her to finally register that she’s not out of danger. Bear has talked to her, his brother has talked to her, their step-sister has talked to her.

Still it goes completely over her head. She has a face mask and has been told it’s not to protect her, but to protect others from her, but she still thinks she’s safe because she has one. Her husband went to the garden centre last week and they’ve been shopping. I totally get that she wants to get back to normal, wants to see her family and her grandchildren again and that she doesn’t see why she can’t. She doesn’t have the virus, we don’t have the virus so what’s the problem.? Trying to explain that her going shopping, to her local supermarket, like so many other people have done means she still could get infected and thus pass it on.

Her husband going to the garden centre, albeit with his mask on, doesn’t mean he won’t get it from touching something someone else has and not washing his hands until he gets home. She doesn’t understand about germs and their longevity and transferal, and is starting to feel it’s all a massive drama over very little. We took pup with us in his travel crate, in which he puked again. He was a real pain to get in the thing as he knows the crate means the car, and he’s now none too keen on that mode of transport. Eventually Bear got him in and he immediately started to yawn and pant and drool. Poor little guy.

He was happy to see Bear’s Mom and her husband, remembering them from his first visit and tail wagged and licked and accepted belly tickles and strokes happily, while I cleaned up his crate, until they had an unexpected visitor with a huge dog in tow. It was a beautiful Australian Shepherd, only 13 months old but calm and well behaved, but it was massive. Poor pup was terrified and tried valiantly to escape under the patio lounger, somewhat unsuccessfully, and just lay there yelping and whimpering until it was taken away (which it was, very quickly). It’s definitely not going to be easy socialising the little guy.

He was even terrified of the people who came with it. The man came over to see him and he yelped and cried and tried to climb over Bear’s shoulder to get away. I think it might have been because he smelt of his dog, although pup isn’t great with human strangers either. He was better with the woman, whom he allowed to stroke him and he licked her hand. They left it a little while and the man came over again to see him and was allowed to stroke him, but got his thumb bitten for his efforts. Then we found out the dog’s name is Loki… which explains everything… pup’s name is Drax. In a MCU fight, Loki would win. đŸ˜€

When the big dog and his owners had gone, pup was placated with thin slices of pork sausage and chunks of fresh strawberries. (I checked to make sure the pork sausage didn’t contain garlic or onion or anything that would make him ill first). They seemed to do the trick, although he was more intent on getting himself some spare ribs and chippies but Bear doesn’t share. Human food is alright in moderation, but how do you get a 13 week old puppy to understand moderation.? There’s gorgeous smells coming from the kitchen and they’re nowhere near his food bowl… the sheer unfairness of it… and then he has to sit and watch humans stuff their faces with gorgeous smelling meats and fruit and nice smelling liquids… while he gets the same old kibble and water.! Damned if I’d want to be a dog.

On the homeward journey, we decided not to put pup in the travel crate. Although I’d cleaned it as much as possible, it still stank of puke and fear and I knew it would be damned near impossible to get him back in it without a fight and why stress the poor little pup out more than he’d already been.? So he sat on my lap with his paws on my shoulders and cuddled me all the way home, panting in my ear and drooling on me, but nowhere near as much as he had in the travel crate. Maybe it’s better that he does it that way for short trips and goes in the crate for the long-haul journeys. Maybe he’ll get used to the movement and be less stressed when he gets to his destination, wherever that may be.


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