The Others

We are very lucky to have some very good friends who love Toffee nearly as much as we do. They don’t have a dog of their own and don’t intend having a dog of their own. They like dogs though and they love Toffee. If you are reading this and have your own dog you will no doubt realise that these friends are worth their weight in gold . . . or oil  . . . . or whatever is the most valuable commodity on the earth at this given time. The reason that they are so highly treasured is that they are happy to look after Toffee when we are away. Amongst other things of course!

I won’t be sharing their names with you because you might know them and if you have a dog you might try to get them to look after your dog instead of ours. And if you tried to do that I would have to hunt you down. Please do not underestimate how important these people are to me. . .

Their eldest daughter would love her own dog. To be fair she would be a brilliant dog owner and she has a paper round to boot – although, having said that, Toffee is not allowed on her paper round because it triples the length of time it takes her to complete it. She is great with Toffee and Toffee absolutely adores her. Any teenager that is willing to pick up the poo of somebody else’s dog whatever the weather deserves such adoration. Sometimes I feel that I should try to help persuade her parents to let her have a dog . . . but I am not stupid.

When Toffee is on her holidays with the Other Family I have a deep suspicion that her every whim is catered for. I have heard rumours of TV watching on the sofa, visits to the beach, long rambles over hill and dale, custard creams and roast dinners with homemade gravy. Whilst it is not rocket science to deduce that Toffee loves going to stay with the Other Family, I know this to be a hard fact because :

a.) we cannot walk past the Other Family’s house whithout her choking herself to get up their drive

b.) if we see any member of the Other Family when we are out she will garrotte herself trying to get to them as quickly as is caninely possible

c.) she doesn’t eat when she gets home (I am not sure whether this is because she is so stuffed that she cannot manage another morsel, or because she will no longer eat the boring dog food we give her, or because she is in mourning for the Other Family)

d.) the next day we often come downstairs to be welcomed by a big, cold poo in the middle of the kitchen floor as if to say: ‘I resent being brought back here. Can you see how much I resent it? Yes, that much!’

Sometimes I wonder whether Toffee just loves the Other Family a lot more than she loves us? Surely not! It must be the roast dinners. It must. When it comes to priorities in Toffee’s world, they go something like this:

1. Food

2. Food

3. Humans

4. More Food

5. Strawberry (the cat, not the fruit – see previous post)

6. A stick – the larger the better

7. Ok – a walk if you insist

I am aware that food rates pretty highly and could be a deciding factor if she had to choose between us and the Other Family. (Indeed I am convinced that this might also the case with the Boss – I must keep an eye on that.) It was with this knowledge that I dropped her off at the Other Family’s house last weekend. Now it is true that the vet has told me that Toffee is on the verge of being obese and, considering she is not even one yet, this is something to be taken seriously. As for whether I needed to stress the requirement for “no snacks at all” so earnestly when delivering Toffee and her kit (which is pretty extensive) to the Other Family – I’ll leave that one for your consideration. However, I would just like to point out that I do not feel in the slightest bit jealous of my dog’s undying love for the Other Family . . . .  at all . . . . honestly . . . . I don’t . . .

But if the Other Family are reading this, please remember: No snacks at all!

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