Week 31: Hurricane Season

“So at how many months old do Working Cocker Spaniels slow down a bit? Six?”

There’s a pause before the reply comes.

”About 10 years“.

We knew that the breed is an energetic one before we bought the puppo home, but bloody hell fire, Milo the pup is like a miniature wallaby on crack. He is absolutely bouncing mad. Bonkers. The training manual says “run your puppy for 5 minutes a day for each month of his life”. Our one does that whilst he is sleepy. Once he gets going, you can add another 40 minutes of flat-out belting about before he needs a rest. And then he starts again. He makes your average Hurricane look lazy.

I’m going to suggest to Duracell that they drop the fluffy, pink bunny and go with the Crazy Dog. It wouldn’t surprise me to find he has some long-life rechargeable batteries installed somewhere. Can only think of one installation point though and I ain’t going near that to find out.

The pup is dominating our lives at the moment as we continue to try to train him. Training a dog is a strange experience; on the one hand, Milo has grasped some things (usually treat-related) very rapidly. He has learned to sit nicely when his grub is served and when treats are proffered, he’s learned to walk on a lead without fighting (too much), he knows his name, he plays fetch (although not yet learned to release the ball and leave it released), and he has learned that pee-pee and po-po are a no-no in his living space (formerly known as the Sitting Room); if he needs to go, he asks to go out the back. Best of all, we’ve got him to accept sleeping over night in his locked crate without a fuss. Not bad for a fortnight is it? Well not for complete newbie hound owners anyway.

If only then he would get to grips with a few other things equally quickly. For a start, not trying to have a dump on the kitchen floor or front door mat would be a Big Plus. Equally, not weeing on the carpet in the Man Cave (which isn‘t really a Man Cave ... more of the main room we use as the good telly is in there) would be grand. Oh, and when he goes to see BT (Boy Teenager) to help wake him up in the morning, avoiding a widdle on his bed covers would make us all happier. And then there is The Cat. The cat is an old gentleman (that’s a lie, the cat is a retired thug) who us utterly disdainful of this waggy-arsed squirrel thing that keeps trying to Be Friends. Trouble is, Milo‘s idea of being friends involves Chasing. We’ve managed to get the two within a few feet of each other, but if the cat turns and bolts, the hound is after him like a shot. Or at least he would be if he wasn’t attached to me or BT by his lead.

And so it came to pass, dear reader, that following yet more excellent advice from our Dog Whispering Sister-In-Law (Nina), Milo has been getting more exposure to the house whilst on the lead, keeping the cat, the kitchen floor, the carpet and BT’s covers safe from being .... attended to. He objects to it a bit, but learning he is at the bottom of the pile is really important. This is particularly so because he’s become a bit excited-bitey when with BT and GT (Girl Teenager). BT is dealing with this appropriately by being firm and following the rules laid down by Nina. GT though is being too soft and we are having to train her to train him. Nina, a dog trainer by trade, always says the owners usually need training more than the dog. Quite, although it‘s been a long while since either of the kids have dropped a log behind the sofa.

Aside from all the dog stuff, the week has seen Gin (so called because of the collection she keeps under her bed) working her butt off on school work; mock exam marking amongst other things. Teaching is hard at the best of times, but at the moment it‘s extra tough and she is permanently exhausted. As am I after two weeks of disrupted sleep, getting up to let the dog out every two and a half hours in week one, now extended to only once during the night.

It’s tempting to imagine that the world has stopped turning while all this puppy business is going on, and so it came as a surprise to hear that there is now a Covid tracking app available. Downloaded it. Switched it on. Tried scanning a QR code at the golf club; didn’t work. Left it switched on. Killed the battery. Hmmm.

The week ended at the Walrus and Carpenter in That London. Walking across London Bridge at 5pm heading towards Monument was a strange experience. It should be almost impossible going against the tide of commuter ants flooding towards the train station and home. But, almost no one. Just a few of us ambling one way or the other. Really weird. It also struck me that there were many offices with unlit floors; not something you normally see. Although a cracking evening, it did make me wonder just what will happen to London and the City post-Covid and post-Brexit. Might even be that flats become affordable.

That's it - a week of almost pure dogging. Or something like it. I suspect week 32 will be similar, except the puppo will be allowed out the front to go on proper walks for the first time. Hooray! Some sort of freedom from the house ...

Love & elbow-grease, Mr H

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