Howling dogs and lovely neighbours

MY little baby went away on holiday this week and I am missing her already. It is a bit ridiculous because up until the night before she left when we discovered that there were seats available on a flight where people we knew were flying; we were both looking forward to her holiday.

I’ve needed a break; my Mum-stress has been at a constant level of 9.9 out of 10 for quite some time and because of that AND because of the effects of this Mum-stress on the poor Young Wan she has also needed a break.

And now she’s away and I’m all sad.

I can’t hear Nirvana drifting in from her window into the living room as well as through the walls, the dog has been going to the window every five minutes and it is just so quiet.

There are no dishes in the sink, no strewn pyjamas in the living room in the mornings and no glasses everywhere in the flat but in the kitchen cupboards.

The poor doggie was absolutely traumatised by her leaving, it is mad how much they cop onto that is going on around them.

She saw me pull out the suitcase to pack and from then on she was slightly more derangedly cute and playful until she saw the Young Wan lift her suitcase out of the flat and downstairs and the doggie howled like she was being beaten.

She isn’t a barker really so this was a bit ‘ach the poor wee doggie what is she thinking?’

I recently made my first purchase on ebay, a backpack small dog carrier with ventilation bits and the rest, only we haven’t taken it for a spin yet though we have forced the doggie inside and I mean forced.

If the bag had been pulled out that morning, I reckon the doggie would have jumped into it and strapped herself in.

Then we left and she didn’t howl at first then we got outside and oh my god the dog was distraught.

She obviously recognises the suitcase, in the past we have gone away without her and gone with her but she has never howled like that. It was heart wrenching in a morning which was already a bit fraught.

We walked down the road to the sounds of the dog looking at each other. So I had no other course of action other than to phone the house, go onto the answer machine and leave a message to the house saying ‘ach Honey its okay, I’m coming back later, and I’ll be home in a bit. I’m not going away’.

I don’t know if it made the doggie feel any better but off we went to the station.

So now I am sitting here and there is no one telling me long-winded stories about things I can’t follow, there is no one asking me if I have seen her black eyeliner, no one has broken into the box of meringues and stolen half; as Bjork sang ‘its oh so quiet’. Oh and I don’t have to put the phone lock on the phone, though at this stage it feels wrong, very wrong. I might just put it on to make myself feel better.

What on earth am I going to do with myself?

In fairness there are plans, hopefully a weekend with a pal who now lives in the States and the old gang as it were, another weekend in Donegal not to mention the ability to just go for a pint after work without rushing home.

One other thing happened tonight which was just too much. I got home to a very happy doggie who wouldn’t stop kissing me, ach. So I brought her downstairs to the garden with her new squeaky steak and as we went into the garden the door slammed shut behind me. Shit.

Locked out and no keys and no phone and no honeybunches daughter, just Honey the doggie, me and a squeaky steak in the garden.

Seeing as how it was less than 10 minutes since I got home, and seeing as how I heard two out of the other three flat residents in residence I rang one of the occupied flat’s bells.

No answer.

So I rang again. And again. And again. Not in quick succession you understand, intermittently between throwing the squeaky steak and running around the garden like a mad thing.

Then I rang another bell, no answer and the same situation repeated itself.

I finally hauled myself into the back garden which contains all manners of shit and a lot more since the last time I was there and threw stones up at the other top flats kitchen window shouting nearly desperately hello.

Finally someone answered and I explained that I had locked myself out. And they said ‘and you want me to open the door?’.

‘Ehm well yes, if you could, that would be great!’ What an understatement?!?
They came down and I was all ‘oh thank you, thank you’ and as I moved in to put the chub on the door she said ‘are you leaving the dog out!!!

So I waved the squeaky steak in front of her and threw it saying no I just do not want to be locked out again. Then she said ‘is your daughter not in?

I said no but I wished I had said ‘she is watching MTV and I didn’t want to disturb her.”

What a stupid question and what lovely neighbours.

Technorati tags: redmum irishblogs