I'm Glad It Was Me!

I know it's been AGES since I've blogged! So to inspire me I decided to read through some of the stories my daughter has written, she's 10yrs old . I've published a couple of hers before and thought I'd share this latest one, she wrote about our rescue dog. The story below was her entry into this years 500 words competition for BBC Radio 2. It is the second time she's entered and the second time she's come nowhere! But hey, maybe it'll be third time lucky in 2014?!

I’m Glad It Was Me!

Hello! My name is Kip, I’m a Border Collie and this is my true story . . .

It was just another day at the dog’s home. Waking up again, at the usual time to Elvis next door howling his head off. It’s not his fault though, it’s just what his breed does. I started to prepare myself for the parade of families, who would soon pass by, looking for their new best friend. I went through my checklist, cute puppy dog eyes . . . check, one ear straight, one ear floppy . . . check, sad looking face . . . check. Oh and also, I licked all of my fur, twice, to make it sparkly clean. Then reality hit me that it will probably be the same old story, that all of the lovely looking families just walk straight past me and take one of the posh dogs like a cockadoodle poo or something. It’s not my fault I’m an energetic sheep dog, who needs hours of walking each day.

In they came, one by one, past they went, one by one. Then finally, it happened, a family stopped! But then walked past. But then came back! I pricked up one ear and tilted my head, irresistibly cute to any dog lover. They were saying how they loved that I had one ear straight and one ear floppy and how cute my sad looking face was and my cute puppy dog eyes. Practice makes perfect I thought! THUMP! THUMP! The beat of my heart was overpowering my whole body with excitement. I had never had a second viewing before! Keep calm and carry on I whispered to myself, as my hopes rose. But it was no use. In case you didn’t know, dogs are pants at playing it cool, we wear our hearts on our paws, unlike cats. HOW DO THEY DO IT?

Suddenly, my tail started to lash uncontrollably from side to side, then I jumped up at the bars without even realising. They looked perfect for me, one full size human and two small humans all loving my gorgeous look. Then my heart skipped a beat as they started talking about ‘Dad’. ‘Will Dad like him?’ ‘What will Dad say if we take him home?’ ‘Dad said we should get a small, posh dog that doesn’t need much walking’. Who is this Dad? I thought. Do I want to go and live with Dad?

Then it finally happened! ‘We’ll take him!’ they announced happily. There was no option but for me to run madly around the cage, tail wagging ridiculously, silly noises coming from my mouth, jumping at the bars. That was as cool as I could get!

Anyway, as I’m sat here writing this story, today with Dad annoying me by constantly stroking me and wanting to play with me, one thing keeps going round my mind.
When this family came to the dog shelter that day and adopted a dog, I’m glad it was me!

A dog is for Christmas but absolutely not for Life !

Every year without fail since she was 3 yrs old, a month or so before Christmas, Miss C starts asking for a dog as her present. She's now 16 and so we have endured this relentless pestering for the last 13 Christmases! Now when she was little and still believed in Father Christmas we could just about get away with it by telling her that it was impossible for him to 'deliver' livestock on account of them not fitting in the sleigh or that he had no 'toilet facilities' on board for them. But still each year, without fail, she’d ask!

So once she discovered Santa wasn't real (which hit her hard) not because of the loss of Santa, but more as she realised that the real reason she didn't have a dog was because her parents were just plain and simple....evil liars! Now with this knowledge she began focusing all her efforts towards us instead, using many different and ingenious methods to get us to buy her a dog and to fulfil her very 'basic' need for a canine companionship. In fact she tried all manner of convincers in order to make this happen, like demanding, begging, or telling us she was 'lonely' and sad and therefore a dog would be far easier for us than 'buying' a baby sister or brother!

In an effort to console her, we bought her a myriad of toy dogs that included those that barked, snored and cried if left alone for too long. They came with dog baskets, brushes, play food and collars and leads! However rather than satisfying her desire for a dog, she took her role play as dog owner so seriously that she was convinced it proved to us that she had the ability to care for a real dog.

Ding Dong Doris on High!

Many of my friends think I’m crazy for putting up my Christmas tree in November, but it is without doubt my most favourite time of the year. The twinkle of the fairy lights, sparkly decorations and the smell from the mulled wine scented candles fills my house. In doing so it gives me a feeling of warmth and cosiness that no other time of the year can match.

So why dear god am I stressed beyond belief and ready to dismantle the tree and rip down the lights before it’s even been up a week?
 
One word…. Doris! She is our super cute kitty, all soft and squishy. She’s a picture purrfect cat and looks just like Felix from the advert. However beneath the adorable face with elegant, elongated whiskers and the soft angelic mewing sound she makes (when she wants something), lies a most fearsome creature not nearly as far removed from her lion ancestors as we first thought.

Usually I can handle the random unprovoked attacks that come from under the bed, where my ankles bear the brunt of her pointy little claws and sharp catty teeth. Or the way she leaps from the top of the fridge like ninja cat and lands on the worktop with a delicate thud and a conceited look on her face; as I jump and squeal in shock. But now I think she’s pushed it one step too far!