RogerBW's Blog

Dogless 07 June 2019

The Hound has left us to go back to her family.

I don't have to let her out first thing in the morning (and neither of us has to clean up afterwards).

We are no longer drowning in dog-hair. (I still think we could have made dog-hair felt, though what it would have been useful for…)

The incidence of unpleasant smells and sudden noises has gone down sharply. (Though it was quite low anyway.)

There is no sack of dog-kibble to be manoeuvred round when going through the back door.

Postmen and others may approach the house without being barked at.

I can walk across a room without having to worry about abandoned dog toys (the knotted rope, mostly).

It is no longer necessary for me to hold up every article of clothing I'm about to put on in order to have it sniffed. Nor is my crotch inspected every time I return to the house (presumably for evidence of Sin).

If I want to go out for a walk, I don't have to take the dog with me; which in turn means I can go through cow-fields and along the sides of golf courses, where a dog would be unwelcome.

I still miss her, though. She is an efficient machine for converting kibble into hair, affection and excrement, and one of those was welcome.

(In answer to the question everyone asks, no, I'm not planning to have a permanently-resident dog. Apart from the above, this one is well-trained and ferociously smart as well as friendly, and I'm not sure any other could match up.)

Tags: real life

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