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On
Monday my husband fell in love and on Wednesday he left me. OK it is a dog and
he has left for a pre-planned trip back
to the UK but it got you reading! ‘Getting a dog’ was always something we had
vaguely talked about but I always thought I was the keen one – until last
weekend when I mentioned to my husband that the SPA were having an Open Day,
and to my surprise he said that we might as well go as there was ‘no harm in
looking’. Fairly typically there was a
barbecue and a Zumbaa demonstration going on so most of the dogs were in a
state of hysteria, but then we saw ‘her’ sitting expectantly with a ball in her
mouth. My husband looked into those
brown limpid eyes (as he had once done with me, many years ago) and I knew we
were in trouble! There was no request
for a house visit by the refuge, we didn’t have the necessary ‘proof of
residence’, we didn’t even have a collar and lead but 10 minutes later we were
driving home with Loulou in the back of the car in a state of shock (us not
her)!
Apart
from falling into the pond within 5 minutes of arriving she settled in very well
and quickly taught my husband to play fetch, go for walks on command and turn
the water sprinkler on so she could jump in the spray. But on the Wednesday he had to fly back to
the UK and I was left in charge.
Dogs
are welcomed in many places in France so I thought a visit to the pet shop
would be a good place to start; they were very kind about the fact that she
peed on the floor. Evening walks around
the neighbouring vineyards have to be carefully timed to avoid meeting the man
with the gun and the four hunting dogs. A
walk around the local lake had to be curtailed due to her obsession with the
ducks. The trip to the beach was
obviously her first view of the sea – and a new experience for me as, rather
than lying in the sun I was running up and down shouting her name as she ran
off towards Spain for 10 minutes. Lunch
was also a different experience as, rather than choosing a restaurant by what
was on the menu I was looking for somewhere that Loulou could settle quietly
(ie not in view of the sea or seagulls).
And here I had another problem – whilst reading the menu I kept stroking
her as she lay quietly at my feet and then had no idea how to leave her to go
and wash my hands but then the waitress arrived with the carafe of water (I had
always wondered what that was for!)
Morning
lie-ins are now just a distant memory, I haven’t worn anything smart for days
now, I am, filthy, exhausted, covered in licks, and extremely happy!
