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Puppy School

Tonight it is pooches first day at puppy school. I am praying that there will be no small breeds for him to squash. He loves other dogs but he’s so blooming big. One of his puppy pounces practically flattens me,  let alone an 8 week old Chihuahua. I just know how it is going to pan out. If edited well it could be slotted in as a scene from Marley and Me and no-one would notice. I’m hoping that I am being unnecessarily cautious but if this last week has been anything to go by, I doubt it. I have been putting his lead on for a few minutes every day to get him used to it. The only thing he has got used to is how to effectively chew it. And you know there will be at least one person there who has the perfect puppy who listens to his/her master’s commands eager waiting to be told what to do next. I can just see it now. A sensible dog, with a sensible owner, who presents perfectly, with every strand of hair on his or her head immaculately groomed (the owner and the dog). Then, on the other end of the scale, there will be Henry and me… the dunces of the class. He will have run around me 5 times, wrapping the lead as goes, tying me in knots, like some sort of contortionist doing a trick.


Don’t let that expression fool you – 9 weeks, 6 days old and looking for trouble.

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