Rough start to the day when, despite the burly neighbour’s help, we couldn’t get the Great Dane into the 4×4 vehicle to go to the vet. Our dog has taken a sudden and inexplicable dislike to riding in cars and just refused to climb in, growled when we tried to lift him, dug in his front paws and put his head down. He is a huge dog and very powerful. He kept wagging his tail rather desperately to show he wasn’t being unfriendly (he likes the neighbour and adores us, is very keen on lots of human approval and affection) but he was not getting into the back seat or the front seat or having anything to do with this juggernaut of a motor vehicle. His lower jaw trembled and he rolled his eyes unhappily to indicate to me, his usually loving human parent, that this was not his idea of fun. We gave up eventually, soothed and patted the stubborn refusenik, then went next door to admire the neighbour’s new puppy who is already house-trained, well-brushed and nicely behaved. Shaming to have to come back and see our handsome Dane, his new tartan coat all muddy, leaping around the back garden joyful at getting his own way.
The vet will have to come to us. And out here vets don’t do that except in emergencies.
Now he is drinking water in the kitchen and calming down, poor dog. The small dogs are rushing around hysterical with excitement, demanding rides in cars and more drama, biscuits and loud voices, everyone rushing about and shouting orders, volleys of wild barking and a puddle or two behind the bathroom door!
Earworm from some ancient radio retro-music programme, songs that we (over)heard and can never forget, Gary Puckett & the Union Gap, dating back before male song writers began to unlearn sexism or gave up trying to talk women into having sex no matter what…
Lady Willpower, it’s now or never
Give your love to me
And I’ll shower your heart with tenderness