We finally have an appointment for puppy training.! \o/ It begins on July 7th for eight weeks and is an hour and a half every Tuesday evening. Bear’s going to change some of his late shifts for early’s so he can attend. I was a bit unsure about doggo being well behaved in eight weeks, but apparently they’re quite intense lessons, so the little gremlin will get schooled.! The mischievous little toad has chewed through the light cable on my bike and chewed the corners off of a fibreboard we put up in front of the BBQ, because he kept trying to eat the gas line.
He’s managed to obliterate his squeaky bear, squeaky ball, rattly rabbit and braided chew toy, and is in the process of eating his Nylabone. His blankets have all had the tags chewed off and he’s been quite content to chew off the threaded hems. All this amongst eight sticks and a hearty attempt at my rubber croc house shoes. Today we’re heading to the pet store to get more kibble and find some new puppy toys… something that will last more than a few weeks and be educational as well as fun and noisy. The gremlin loves his Kong-type ball that we put treats in and has already mastered throwing it himself.
I’ve finally managed to get Bear to commit to a skip, having gotten him to finish the sort out with the cupboard in the boy child’s room, which he got around to on Sunday. The skip is arranged for next Friday, which is his next day off. Amongst the interesting items he found up there was the paper he wrote the route instructions on when he came to collect me from my psychologically abusive marriage ten years ago. He didn’t have a Satnav back then and couldn’t get Google Maps on his phone, so had written down the road names and numbers. Don’t for a second think it was a sweet, romantic gesture. This is Bear.
He dumped the paper in a box and over the years has dumped other papers and personal detritus in there and forgotten about it, dumping the box in the cupboard because he couldn’t be bothered to go through it and bin stuff. He’s not a hoarder, but he can be lazy when it comes to sorting out the junk he accrues over time. I usually go through mine every two months, he’ll have to be persuaded to go through his once in a blue moon and most of the time there’ll be something amongst it that he’d been looking for for months, as there was this time. Roll on next Friday.!
On Monday, it’s my birthday, which I had completely forgotten about until Bear asked me what the day after Sunday was and I replied Monday, and earned myself a Paddington hard stare. So I checked the date, not having a clue what he was going on about to realise it was my birthday. Oh.! Well, never mind. It’s just a day like any other, it’s not like I can go to the bar or enjoy a celebratory meal at my favourite Italian. Thanks to the selfish, moronic people hell bent on spreading the ‘Rona all over the province again, like they tried to a fortnight ago when the city opened three bars in the centre, setting out tables and chairs two metres apart over the entire central plaza so more people could come out while observing social distancing and the whole dumb-ass lot of them started a conga line in celebration of the restriction lifting and weaved in and out of the tables, spreading germs left, right and centre.
I’ll take peace and quiet for my birthday this year. The children are here for the weekend and were supposed to be staying until Monday evening, but as the boy child has a play date (yes, I know they don’t call them that when you’re an almost 14 year old boy, but still) on Sunday afternoon and I objected to Bear having to drive 250 miles in one weekend, so they’re both going home on Sunday afternoon instead, saving 125 miles and the stress of having them here on my birthday, which would have involved cake, which I would have had to make. Sod that.! So I’ll take peace and quiet, a lion (in as much as the gremlin lets us sleep in) and a peaceful, lazy day with no bullshit.
Beer would be nice, chocolate would be welcome and maybe a few episodes of CSI or Doctor Who. I’d usually get a present from The Mommy and Bear, but I’ve told them I don’t want presents as Bear has commissioned a drawing from a Dutch illustrator named Dennis Baptiste, of Sir Patrick Stewart in his role as Jean-Luc Picard for us. It’s bloody expensive but so worth it, as the artist is well known for his beautifully detailed hand drawn works. We’re going up to Amsterdam to collect it when it’s done, which will also be bloody expensive, as Amsterdam is over four hours drive from us and you don’t just drive up there and back again.
A few examples of his breathtaking work. All hand drawn, nothing digital.