Dear Diary...

The First Casualty, Fidget Bear & Lessons In Behaviour

Today, we had the first casualty in DRAX the Destroyer’s life journey… my laptop’s Internet cable.! Apparently, being wedged into the small gap between wall and floor tile isn’t even enough protection from the teeth of the Destroyer, who somehow managed to pull it out and drag it into a position where he could chew on it.!

It’s not a big deal, I still have internet on my iPad, iPhone and tablet, but the laptop had to be hard wired to the modem because there’s no wireless connection software on it, it being ancient. Bear however, seemed to think the loss of my Internet was just as earth-shatteringly serious as his Internet loss would be and immediately went out to buy me a new 30ft cable.

DRAX the Destroyer knows he’s done something wrong despite us having said not one word of rebuke to him. When I realised what had happened, I got down on the floor, looked him in the eyes and asked him calmly what he’d done. Since then he’s avoided me and Bear, hidden away in his bed and curled up on his blanket next to the sofa and covered his eyes with his paws.

It would be funny if we weren’t so concerned with him not feeling like it was all his fault. It wasn’t, it was ours for not raising it above his level of reach and being reassured by the fact that it was wedged into a gap we both thought he couldn’t get to. We were wrong. Later this week Bear is going to get some cable housing and fix it securely to the wall so that this doesn’t happen again.

I tried to encourage pup out of hiding with a treat, but he wasn’t having it; only when Bear got back with the new cable and a couple of bags of lush-smelling kibbling did he come out to be stroked and petted and told he was a good boy. Since then he’s stayed by Bear’s feet, alternately licking and holding his big toe between his teeth, without actually biting him. That’s one brave doggo.

This morning Bear had an online meeting with his political buddies and I swear I have never seen him fidget so much… he just couldn’t sit still, changing positions and fiddling with his beard and fingers and the cables near him. Anyone would think he was talking to a hot woman, rather than his (male and bearded) political leader. 😀

Having the mad puppy in the house means Bear and I have been reading up on all sorts of behavioural things we’d never have even known about before and there are a few things our ‘puppy training experts’ are going to be corrected about the next time they set foot in this house. I’ve learned the right way to pick the puppy up, not to tap him on the nose with anything for any reason (the boy child) and that when he’s lying on my feet, he’s protecting and guarding me… awww.!

This afternoon Bear has also cleared the rest of the patio of dangerous items the pup could find to chew on. He’s gotten rid of a whole heap of old tiles and strips of wood with nails through that were hidden away from when we attempted to redo the downstairs toilet years ago and stopped because we needed a plasterer, and the one we like was too busy.

We haven’t contacted him again since… it’s typical Bear, now that the work has stopped he’s gone on to other things, and the original job gets forgotten about until it absolutely HAS to be done… like YESTERDAY kind of done. Then he’ll get his butt in gear and get it sorted, but it takes years.

Whiners, Rabble Rousing & Crate Training

Bear took the children home early today, after the girl child got her knickers in a twist over not being able to concentrate on her schoolwork. They were supposed to be taken home around 1.30pm and Bear was going straight to work afterwards, so I had to get dinner ready for him and was apparently making too much noise in the kitchen for her liking. Tough shit really… she has a bedroom, she could have gone up there, but no, she chooses to whine about it and turn on the tears… so Bear took them home.

No great loss, it meant 3 extra hours of peace and quiet for me and the puppy. Who’s getting too damn clever for his own good. He’s figured out that if he digs at the broken step on the patio, he can loosen the small stones and eat them, and he has no problem voicing his opinion when I tell him no, barking at me in an argumentative tone. It amuses the hell out of the elderly lady next door, especially when his barking starts a whole row of barking from every other neighbourhood dog. Bloody little rabble rouser.

This afternoon we found the perfect vet, a man who owns, trains and shows off border collies, and one of five veterinary doctors and consultants in the same practice who has border collies. Talk of hitting the jackpot. DRAX the Destroyer has an appointment with him next Tuesday for his 9 week vaccination, and then we can take him for walks and tire the little beastie out so he sleeps a bit longer at night… hopefully.! He still has some objections with his training pads, but I’m happy to change them as often as necessary to appease him until they’re gone and we can go back to the decent ones that don’t stay wet, then he’ll stop peeing and pooping on the floor.

Crate training is not going too badly. He still whines and whimpers a little when he realises the door is closed, but mostly he lies in his bed and turns his back on me, probably trying to make me feel guilty for confining him when he only wants to play and love me. It’s not working. I’d rather he sat there and cried and sulked than fell down the stairs and ended up permanently maimed. Those damn stairs still attempt to kill me when I least expect it. I wish I lived in a bungalow. He’s going to have to go in it after Bear goes to work, as I have to clean up upstairs now the children have gone.

Yesterday we started changing his food from the Starter food he was weaned on, to the Puppy food which is the next step. Even though he’s not yet nine weeks old, he’s a real chunkster and developing quickly, he’s already grown a little since Wednesday and put on a pound and a little bit in weight. He gets half and half for two meals and Puppy food for two meals each day. We also gave him a bath. He wasn’t especially impressed, but he bravely let himself be washed and rinsed, and wrapped up in his microfibre towel and gently rubbed almost dry in Bear’s arms, and he loved having the heater on. Then he went out into the garden and rolled on the patio.

Chewbacca, The Walking Dead & The Puppy Training Experts

Since DRAX the Destroyer came home on Wednesday he’s done nothing but chew… fucking EV.ER.Y.THING.!!!!!! If it’s not nailed down he eats it, if it is, he chews on it and licks it and tries to drag it away… and that includes the humans. Every one of my fingers has teeth marks on it, my toes have teeth marks, my legs have teeth marks, my clothing has teeth holes in. The sofa has been chewed, his crate has been chewed, his travel crate has been chewed and his bed has been chewed. I had to brush the patio on Saturday because he went out to explore for the first time and ate every dead leaf, cobweb, granule of dirt and bug he could get his mouth around… and he’s not even teething yet.!

Our bikes have been chewed, the bags of compost have been chewed, the plants are damned lucky to be too far for his teeth to reach in their patio pots, but it won’t be long before he’ll get them too. He’s tried to chew on the back door and the kitchen cabinets, both handles and doors. He has chew toys, but apparently they’re not as much fun as chewing everything he’s not supposed to. He’s in serious danger of being re-named Chewbacca.! Since Wednesday, Bear and I have been lucky to manage 4 hours sleep a night… Bear gets his when I get up and stay up at 5.10am, having been up at 1.15am, 2.35am and 3.50am, I get mine when Bear gets up at 8am, and I go back to bed.

What the hell we’re going to do when Bear goes back to early shifts on Saturday I don’t know… I’m hoping puppy will be sleeping a little while longer by then. He should be sleeping between 2 and 3 hours per bladder emptying, but as yet, he’s not managing two… I’m almost dead on my feet from lack of sleep, and Bear’s not far behind. Whoever said having a puppy was fun needs their head caved in with a shovel. It’s like having a newborn at night, and a precocious toddler during the day. You don’t dare take your eyes off him for a second… he’ll either find something to chew on, or use the floor as a toilet because he has an issue with the puppy training pads.

On the bright side, he figured out the training pads on his second try on day one. Day two he decided not to bother with them at all, and on day three changed his mind and decided it was probably better if he peed where he was supposed to, because that way he got treats. So far so good, except for the odd accident or deliberate wetting on the floor because the pad offends him. Bear’s still all loved up about him and thinks he’s wonderful. I’m more on the ‘hang on in there and it’ll get better eventually’ side of the equation. He’s as cute as a button, but damned hard work. And I know when he sleeps more than three hours, decides to pee where he’s meant to despite his issues with his training pads and stops chewing each and every part of me and my clothing, he’ll be wonderful to me too.

The kids on the other hand have overshot that mark with me. Thanks to the lockdown, they get to stay two extra days after their usual weekend because they don’t have school, physically and Bear wants to be more hands on when he has the chance… except that today and tomorrow he’s working late shifts… so I have to be more hands on for him.! And I’ll be very hands on if they both don’t shut the fuck up going on about how great they are at puppy training, having been told by a friend of their mother’s how to deal with their own dog, when it was a puppy over two years ago.

The smug satisfaction they take, informing me that I need to ignore my puppy crying while he’s in the crate during dinner, and then sticking their faces up close to the side of the crate and telling him he’s stuck in there and he needs to learn to accept it. I wonder how quickly they’ll learn to accept it when I force them into the cage and ignore them. They tell the puppy no, when he starts trying to bite them, but don’t tell him he’s a good boy when he stops. They’re full of all the things they did with their dog, who’s female and a different breed, when she was a pup and seem to think I appreciate their experience and insight, delivered with their usual smug, smart ass attitudes.

Right now, I can’t wait for them to go home.

The Walking Stomach, A Great Niece & Shady Lockdown Dealings

This is not a puppy… he’s a stomach with legs.! That chews on EVERYTHING.!! And finds ingenious places to leave puddles and small piles… we are not impressed. We set up a toilet pad for him, and he used it most of yesterday with only three little accidents… today, he’s used it twice, and then peed and pooed on the floor instead, as if the toilet pad has offended him in some way. He’s managed to get low enough on his belly to slide under the TV unit, to chew on the TV cables that were hidden behind it… and was an absolute nightmare to get out because he kept trying to stand up and couldn’t, and wouldn’t let go of the cables. Then I took him outside to get some fresh air and a bit of sunshine and he lay down and tried to eat the moss from between the paving slabs.! He has a thing for my fluffy slippers and the strings on my hoodie.. well, my hoodie in general and seems to like biting my leg. From doing next to nothing, he’s now permanently doing something, usually something he shouldn’t be. Dear God, what possessed me to agree to this.?!

Yesterday, my niece informed the family that the C-section she was supposed to have on March 28th (because she was showing signs of pre-eclampsia), that was postponed until April 10th (because the doctors decided it wasn’t that serious), has now been cancelled and a new C-section arranged for the end of May, which is when she is due. Her little girl is still small for her gestational age, but the doctors are not overly concerned, just keeping a close eye on her. Her own health isn’t great because she’s badly overweight for her size, and has done nothing but comfort eat since her previous pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 18 weeks, but with weekly blood pressure and protein checks, hopefully all will be well and the baby will come safe and healthy when she’s supposed to. Then maybe Mama will start to look after herself again.

My son has now been placed on furlough officially, after I reminded him that he won’t get paid if his boss doesn’t declare it. He’s been a bit shady with the legal necessities since the lockdown started and hadn’t informed anyone that he’d placed his staff on furlough, even though he did it a week ago. Only after my son contacted him and reminded him that there was a fair bit of government money in it for him did he officially declare the furlough and now hopefully, my son will get paid the 80% of his wage that he’s supposed to. He bloody needs to, he has a flat to pay rent on and as yet doesn’t know if his landlord is going to allow a reduced rent payment considering his reduction in wages.

Why Is He Not Doing Anything.?

DRAX the Destroyer came home today, and has done nothing but sleep. I know he’s only a seven week old pup, but you’d think he’d be a little more sociable. Poor Bear is bored, he was so excited about the new puppy and now he’s doing exactly the same thing he always does… sitting on his butt living on the Internet, waiting for the pup to wake up and be curious. DRAX has been exploring a little, but it seems to tire him out quickly. He’s had some food and been outside, finding dead leaves and old cobwebs to eat.. *sigh* but aside from that he’s shown little interest in his new kingdom. Although he did lick Bear’s leg earlier.

We brought home a blanket that smelt of DRAX’s mother and a toy rabbit that he had in his bed with his siblings as well as a good supply of the food he’s been eating for the last few weeks to help him feel more comfortable. He wasn’t keen on the travel crate he was brought home in, but he didn’t pee, or poo or vomit in it, just panted a lot and was a bit wet around the mouth. Such a brave little pup. He didn’t want to get out of it when we got in, so we left him in it for an hour so he could get over his first car journey, then enticed him out with little pieces of his food.

He’s currently settled happily in his new bed, inside his new crate in the sitting room with his toys and blanket and nylon chewbone.

UPDATE: Day 1…. Peed on floor, got hiccups from chewing on safety clips of travel crate, tried to steal TV remote control to chew on, vomited up biscuits from lunch, then re-ate them, stalked human Mama from under the dining table and started chewing on her skirt, almost pulled speaker down on his head pulling on a cable to chew that he couldn’t reach properly, so got his paws caught between the wall and the sofa while pulling on the thin cable.
No wonder he’s exhausted.!

A Little Something To Stop The Boredom

Please don’t think I’m bored with your silence, or wish to distract you from adoring me from a socially acceptable distance… don’t laugh, I was being serious.! BUT…..

I know the majority of you are probably bored out of your minds, stuck at home with family and however many pets you have to walk however many times a day and wishing there was a little more excitement in quarantine, as you were promised by the media… so I have a solution… three solutions in fact, depending on how desperate your desire to see something of the outside world actually is…

#1. If, like me, you’re a bit of a culture freak, this will be really cool… 500 museum tours from all around the world, from the comfort of your desk chair.! Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Dali and so many more artists and sculptors for you to admire the work of… https://news.artnet.com/art-world/visit-500-museums-virtually-google-arts-culture-1806657?fbclid=IwAR1ruRri8qJYMaUFAA1vMVvNpgUBu-406l5zIuWwZ-EztyzAzjKAEv7vRwE

#2. Continuing the culture freakiness, the Globe Theatre are showing collections of short films, some based on Shakespearean plays, remade in a more Modern day style, that rotate every two weeks, while some are a compilation of Martin Scorsese shorts. Click on the red links at the bottom of the attached article and find your way around, it’s so easy. https://www.seenit.co.uk/globe-theatre-announces-raft-of-digital-content-including-free-films/?fbclid=IwAR3duA-3EYNVjpZVmD2_-NWQoWTRJRt5pVBU0wuYSgf3JEPMhhSXmL7Yar4

#3. Want to go outside and enjoy the fresh air.? Open a window and get your headphones on, and walk among the trees of Virginia in the rain, or take a stroll through a street market in Bangkok listening to the sounds of the environment around you. You can almost smell those spices. Tuscany, if you prefer, or Times Square at night… check out the links and videos here, and see where else you could end up… virtual tours are interesting and relaxing enough to ease the cabin fever we all must be suffering by now… http://www.openculture.com/2020/03/explore-the-entire-world-from-the-comfort-of-quarantine-with-4k-walking-tours.html?fbclid=IwAR0zZGrooG7Mg-EDsjbDNHETgEUffvCQc9umasBD7mcxqUYeFeSvJFjZCSI

Daylight Saving Time, Alcoholic Hand Sanitiser & Puppy Preparations

On Sunday (29-03) the clocks went forward and for a full 24 hours, I was in limbo, having no idea what the right time was. Bear got up and went to work early, and I went back to sleep because he’d tossed and turned and snored all night long. I woke up around what I thought was 10am, because that’s what my tablet said the time was, while my ipad said it was around 11am. Not knowing which one was right, because both are connected to the Internet, I went downstairs to check the oven and microwave clocks, because I know Bear would have changed them when he got up. They both said it was just before 10am. So I went with it, totally missing the fact that my laptop said 11am.

Even when I checked my laptop at 1pm and finally made breakfast did it not occur to me to check the oven/microwave clocks… and when Bear came home at 2.40pm, a full hour earlier than normal did I wonder why he was home early, because my tablet, on which I was reading, said it was 2.40pm. That whole day confused the hell out of me. It wasn’t until the next morning when Bear and I were debating what the time really was, having had a lion until almost 1oam did I realise that he hadn’t changed the clocks in the kitchen, and it was actually 11am. And I only discovered it because I turned the TV on and saw that the time at the top of the programme guide said 11.02am.!

Dumbass.! I could have done that on Sunday and not spent the entire day in limbo.

This morning the BBC Breakfast TV presenter was interviewing an NHS doctor who was informing people of the coronavirus statistics and told them that sanitising their hands with vodka (which people are actually doing (!!)) was not going to do a damned thing because it only has 40% alcohol, and to sanitise you need to use at least 70% alcohol. He said you’d be better off using, if you had any, Jamaican cooking rum, which is 70% proof. Personally, if I had Jamaican cooking rum, I damn sure wouldn’t be rubbing it on my hands. If there was a chance I might have an infection of any kind, and even if I didn’t, that shit would be going down my throat, with a small amount of ice.

Yes, I know rum’s supposed to be drunk at room temperature, but would you drink 70% cooking rum like that.? It needs cooling a little.

This afternoon, the rest of the ordered items in preparation for the pup were delivered, so now we have a crate and a puppy sized carry crate for bringing him home tomorrow. I don’t want to just put him in the back and leave him to it. I want him where I can see him and he can see us. I want him to be car trained so he can travel with us when we go to the UK again. He already has his pet passport and is up to date with his vaccinations, other than the nine week booster we need to get arranged for two weeks time. We have food bowls that can be raised as he grows so he doesn’t get pain in his neck and shoulders from having to lean down so far to eat.

I also got Bear to agree that when he’s big enough DRAX the Destroyer can have space on the sofa, so that he can sleep in the sun if he wants to. That’s a big step for Bear, who was insistent that the dog would not be on the sofa. I pointed out that he allowed the kids on it, so why not the dog, or was the dog not a member of our family.? He’s a man who believes in equality, so the quadruped will get equal benefits to the biped’s in this house, with the exception of course, as to whether those benefits could cause the quadruped harm. I’m afraid the dog’s not getting chocolate. Not that I share that stuff anyway.

I’m A Bad Daughter

Since I’ve been with Bear, I’ve noticed that the IQ’s of the people I love are lacking a few points. Or maybe it’s that I didn’t spend as much time reading the crap that comes out of their heads as I do now. I love them dearly, most of them I’ve known since I was a small child, but boy, are they dim.! They have no problem posting misinformation, or mis-leading information if it sounds good, and sod the facts. No one seems to have a clue what Google is for, and just post whatever comes into their heads as the God’s honest truth. And I do wonder if they actually do believe it is.

Over the past few days, my stepmother has called Bear a ‘party pooper’, because he pointed out that agriculture is a problem, and not the reason the CO2 levels have gone down, after she posted some crap about the poor, poor farmers and how they’re the only ones helping to keep the planet going during the COVID-19 pandemic. Then my almost-brother got pissed off because Bear pointed out that Mercedes Benz had designed a new process to make CPAP machines faster, and hadn’t actually said they were new, after he posted a rant about Mercedes saying their CPAP devices were new, which they didn’t, and he went on about having had one for the past decade.

In recent posts my father has called Bear the ‘PC Brigade’ because he objects to my father posting racist, homophobic and transphobic stuff. It pisses me off too, but I know my father doesn’t give a damn, he’ll post whatever he thinks is funny, no matter how offensive it is. So far, every time a member of my family gets pissy with Bear for correcting them or giving them the facts, I get annoyed with him and I’m constantly asking myself why it’s him I’m pissed with and not them.? The thing is, I know them and while I disagree with the vast majority of what they say and do, I know it doesn’t do a damned bit of good to try to educate them.

They just don’t care what anyone else says. They’ll do what they want and say what they want, and post what they want on their Facebook profiles, and fuck everyone else. Which is pretty much the way I work too… except I’m not offensive in a discriminatory way, I post what I believe in and if all the racists/homophobes/ transphobes/Rightwingers don’t like it, tough shit.! I know I probably need to learn tolerance for their points of view, but when they start having a go at Bear it irritates the shit out of me. He’s only trying to help them to see the facts.

He might be a smartass know it all, but that’s because he is smart and he does know it all because he spends his life reading and paying attention to current affairs, politics, world affairs, anything that has any impact on people’s lives, he knows about and when he has questions or sees something doesn’t seem right, he checks it out on Google and tracks down the truth. He needs the truth as much as I do, and apparently much more so than members of my family seem to. I’m on the verge of limiting the whole damn lot of them, so I don’t have to read the utter bullshit that finds it’s way out of their heads.

I’m a bad daughter aren’t I.?!

Blogs, The English Language & Paying Attention

Bear asked me today how many blogs I had, as he’d read a post on one that mentioned me writing on another blog and he hadn’t gotten a notification that I’d posted anything, and wondered why. He was a little surprised to find that I have eight and that he only had access to three… Hey.! It’s not my fault if he doesn’t bother to keep up, it’s not like I banned him from them. So now he has access to all but this one. This one is my rant and rage blog, if y’all hadn’t noticed… Okay, sorry, I’m never going to say that again. I’m not American and I sincerely dislike bastardisations of the English language.

That’s the trouble with having been brought up on the ‘posh’ side of the UK, we are not taught tolerance of the ‘non-posh’ side of the UK, which is why I have issues with Northerners and their use of the English vocabulary. Also because I love the English language and when you love something you don’t like to see it abused. And boy, does it get abused. The Cambridge and Oxford English Dictionaries are even bowing to the abuse and printing new dialect words as proper English, which they are not. I have no trust in Dictionaries anymore. And for the record it’s not Phoenix, it’s Pheonix.!!

As I was saying, this is my rant and rage blog and to be honest, Bear doesn’t need to see it… he knows how I feel about most things and he knows when I’m pissed at him, so there’s little need for him to read about it. He’ll only ask questions I’m not prepared to answer and get mad at me, and then I’ll get even more pissed at him and right now, I can’t deal with another two weeks of being kept at a distance because he didn’t like what he’d read. Like I have any control over the cesspit that is my mind when I’m angry or hurt.

Last night, while we were sorting out my permanent residence permit application form, I discovered that after almost ten years of being with Bear on a pretty much, daily basis… he has no idea about my likes, dislikes, doesn’t know my email address, doesn’t know my phone number, has no idea how tall I am, or what my favourite colour is… ten years and he’s still totally fucking clueless… I shouldn’t be surprised, but I have to admit, I am. I know a hell of a lot about him, what he likes, what he doesn’t, all his kids’ full names and dates of birth and where they were born, and stuff about his brother and parents’.

The best he can do is my birth date and country. After TEN years.!! I’m not entirely sure what to make of that. Does he not care enough to remember these things.? Are they not important enough to retain.? Am I.? No, that’s a dumb question, of course I am but I have to wonder why he doesn’t feel it necessary to remember these things… 😦 Or maybe he’s the real life version of Johnny Mnemonic…

Puppy Love, Vintage Furniture & Permanent Residency

Yesterday we went to see the puppy again… and got to cuddle him… and took lots of pictures and a couple of videos of him playing with his siblings. Then we came home and bought loads of puppy stuff online, because we were told we could have him as early as Monday… instead of in two weeks time. It was delivered today. So DRAX the Destroyer’s new home is well equipped for a seven week old pup… we have yet to choose a veterinarian to look after his health, but as he’ll need his vaccinations at nine weeks, I think we’ll go with recommendations from friends who have dogs.

Bear is so excited… he’s never had a dog before and is really looking forward to being a Puppy-Daddy. I told him he had to be the alpha male or pup would walk all over him and he said he would be… I seriously doubt it, he’s such a softie, he’ll be letting the pup up on the furniture and letting him go upstairs with him and giving him treats even when he hasn’t done anything to deserve them. But that’s what I love about him, his ability to know when it’s okay to be a bit softer in his approach, and when not to be, although we do have the occasional disagreement.

I may have to step up and take the reins for a while until the novelty of having a cute little ball of fur that adores him wears off, if it ever does. I mean, he’s had me adoring him for almost ten years now… and he never gets tired of it. 😀 Today, I cleared up the dust that appeared to be bloody everywhere after we took the china cabinet upstairs to make some space. Bear was going to sell it online, but it’s too nice to give away for a few tenners, so we’re keeping it and getting rid of the baby furniture that’s been in the kids’ rooms since I moved in.

It’s full of stuff they don’t bother with anymore, so that might as well be boxed up ready for grandchildren and the furniture replaced with something we’ll use. Or in some cases, just gotten rid of. There’s so many toys they had as toddlers still hanging around and it’s not like anyone’s going to pay money for it, it’s too old and people want new these days so there’s little point in hoarding it and I doubt the kids’ll want it. They don’t look at anything twice that’s not on a screen.

Tonight Bear and I checked out the application form for my permanent residence permit. Since Brexit back in January I am no longer considered an EU resident, and as such have until June 30th to apply for a new residence permit so that I can continue living in the Netherlands. I could just get a 5 year temporary permit, but I don’t see things turning sour with Bear anytime soon, so a 10 year permanent permit would be best. June 30th is when the temporary residence permit that I was given last March runs out. I’ve no idea what would happen if I didn’t have a permit after June 30th.

I’m guessing there would be leeway after the June 30th deadline for mitigating circumstances but there’s no reason for me to push it, I don’t have a job, don’t have an income, can’t speak the language fluently and am not married to Bear, so I’m pretty lucky to be allowed to stay, it’s not like I’m contributing anything economically.