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Thursday 7th September 2017

5399/18319

I feel a bit like a Buckaroo - they just keep adding on things for me to have responsibility for and so far the horse hasn’t bucked. But surely they can’t keep adding stuff forever. Are we allowed to send the new baby back if it gets to be too much?
We’re basically all in the same room at the moment. Having gone to bed feeling pretty smug I was awoken at 3.30 with a bit of a commotion going on or possibly just by an horrific smell. Ripped from sleep it was difficult to work out what was going on, but slowly I saw Wolfie crouching on the carpet and letting something go. And looking around the floor there was already a wet patch and three or four different sized piles of runny poo. It’s a testament to how quickly you can love a stranger that I didn’t fly into a fury. I just said, “Oh Wolfie… oh no!” I felt pity for her, rather than anger. She was confused and aching for those she knew and that love had manifested itself in brown Mr Whippy style faeces. I woke up Catie and took the dog out into the garden. A bit too late obviously. Somehow I’d managed to avoid stepping bare foot in one of the piles (though surely based on previous experience such animal shit around my unshod toes would presage the birth of my child - Watch Happy Now? if you want to know about that - it was too raw to write about in the blog at the time). But that was the only mercy.
The previous owner had told us that Wolfie was pretty good in terms of toilet training and would just go first thing in the morning. But she’s confused and upset and the stream of diarrhoea is I think just an emotional symptom. I don’t think it’s something we have to deal with every day, but it’s going to be a tough couple of weeks as we’re all cramped up in the same place.
Whilst I was out Catie had done an amazing job of tidying up. I had assumed that the best we could hope for was dark stains on the beige carpet to remind of us of this day and the unshiftable scent of puppy slush puppy until the flooring was replaced.  
It was dark and cold outside. I wondered if we were waking the neighbours. I wondered why I had got myself into all of this. Sure, ten years ago I was lonely and depressed, but at least I didn’t have to deal with shit like this.
It was tricky to get back to sleep, worrying that Wolfie’s bowels might evacuate themselves once more, but I drifted into an uneasy slumber and had a dream that I had shit myself and had to deal with that (I hadn’t though and anyone who says I had and that it was in fact me who had done all the shits on the floor and then blamed it on a naughty dog is lying).
I was up at six, bleary-eyed and retching slightly from the smell in the room. I took Wolfie out for her morning walk. And in spite of all that had happened and the lack of sleep, it all felt rather amazing. Walking through an empty field with the sun just appeared over the hill, my playful shit-factory gambolling along beside me. I felt suddenly alert and my mind was clear and I was happy. The novelty will surely wear off, especially when it is rainy or freezing. But today, this felt magic.
Catie had to go into town (and Phoebe was at her Nanna’s) so I had Wolfie for the day. And I think we bonded. Maybe the shit had been a test to see if we were nice people or not. But we had passed it. I bought some carpet cleaner (though it was hard now to see where the atrocity had taken place) and got on with a bit of work. Then after lunch (my dog ate pasta and tuna like a human might - though I had pasta and pesto) we went for another long walk. I got to explore the area a bit and bond with my new friend, who already likes me more than my daughter does. I chanced letting her off the lead a couple times in safe environments. We saw a huge bird of prey just above our heads, we saw huge horses with masks on their faces that made me think they might be some kind of horse superheroes. We met some local people who seemed friendly, even if, for now, Wolfie is cautious of strangers. My mind whirred on and when I got home I managed to do a bit of work on my sitcom script.
Many stresses and strains to come over the next weeks and months and we’re not in an ideal situation just at the moment. But hopefully there’s room on the Buckaroo for one more creature to love and we’re not going to be thrown off into a world of insanity.
It’s weird having a dog and knowing that no one else knows that this is the first day you’ve had a dog and don’t know what you’re doing. But we got through the first dogastrophe. I am sure there will be more.


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