This is a picture of our two dogs, Gypsy, the collie/German shepherd cross, and Ozzy, the Jack Russell. Paul and I love them dearly. However, for the last 2 or so years I have been having health problems that have been getting slowly worse. It turns out that part of the problem is an allergy to the hair/dust of the dog’s coats. We sent them to a kennels for a short while to check, and I did start to feel better. In the end there was only one decision we could make, the dogs have been re-homed. I know they will be well looked after, and, being friendly dogs, will soon settle in. But I still feel guilty. Logically I know it is not my fault, any more than it is theirs for having caused the problem in the first place. Paul is going to miss his daily walks, but I tell him he doesn’t need a dog to go for a walk! The plus side is that he doesn’t actually need to if the weather is dire! Ozzy won’t walk if its so much as spotting with rain, but Gypsy demands at least an hour in the worst of the weather (except thunder and lightning, which she loathes!) I keep reminding myself of the ‘ups’. They aren’t cheap to keep, we can go out, stay away etc without having to worry about them, and I am feeling so much better. But we do miss them.
Today is the 1st November, and I am sitting here looking out at a bright sunny day. What is going on? It’s supposed to be grey and cold. I’ve just seen a pair of paper delivery girls in summer vests! And the year must be getting on. We have booked our Christmas lunch at a local hostelry, and the Christmas cards arrived this morning. And I keep getting programmes for theatre/cinema which stretch into 2015. Time does march on. In fact I have just remembered that my wedding day, which seems like only yesterday, was actually 30 years ago on December 22nd. That’s a pearl anniversary. Should I point this out to Paul?
