A special mid life hormonal roller coaster with seats reserved for 'ladies' only

I think my LDN is working so well that I am rejuvenating and turning back into a teenager, I am having the same strops as that age group, but of course being 48 and a half allows me to have a hormonal tantrum with all the wisdom of having had them decades ago. My predictable monthly flares are now non predictable and this week has seen me in bed a bit more. Also with my hormones doing their worst a cold attacked me badly and sent my Lupus into orbit, or maybe one of the others, whatever it was has semi passed. The last fortnight has progressed with it's normal rhythm - for the second day in a row the children have chased the school bus up the road, yesterday it was missed, school is ten miles away and I do not drive. Chasing the bus, with myself in the house doing windmill arms behind them, was then swapped for them chasing a friend of mine who works near their school and was out in her car, however she was in turn chasing her dog. A delightfully friendly hound who is rather large and hansom and has spend the last year cultivating a butter would not melt persona alongside fine tuning his skills and an escape artist extraordinaire. Help me catch the dog, then I will give you a lift to school was the order of the day.

Mr Dog does whatever he likes, when he likes, and can get over 6ft wire fences and out of maximum security dog kennels. He is at times found miles away having gate crashed local pubs with outdoor parties of ramblers, who arrive starving in mud covered boots to enjoy pub grub, He can see off several plates at once and escape rapidly, and is often seen with a large number of people running after him. His wolf like intelligence drives my friend mad, she is often seen early in the morning in a car bursting with children, knuckles white at the wheel trying to track his whereabouts and still get to work on time. Although he prefers to pack many miles a day under his doggy belt, he is sometimes found sprawled out across granny's best sofa, covered in mud and panting, having let himself in through the window while people search is whereabouts miles away.

Recently Mr Dog was packed off a couple of counties away to doggy boot camp, run by an infamous Mr and Mrs we-know-best-about-all-dogs, and do dog whispering etc. His arrival at HM Doggy Prison, had followed on from detailed phone conversations, with my friend giving detailed accounts of her young pooch's behaviour and training to date, accompanied by them on the other end of the phone, doing that over earnest and irritating humming that people do when not listening properly. Personally when I encounter somebody doing that I have to sit on my hands in order not to slap them. His arrival at camp brought on more non listening humming with them quite obviously certain that they knew everything about a dog never seen before, my friend's warning of his extreme escapology was deemed as probably a shaggy dog story, and then rapidly sidelined and of course, nicely humoured by they who knew best!

Once home with a house devoid of cheerful dog, but nice glasses of wine to hand, it was not long before many phones rang with messages coming in from the fringes of northern East Anglia. A local butcher quite some way away from Doggy Finishing School appeared to have a very eager and boisterous dog on his premises with my friend's phone number attached. He continued to escape daily until his early expulsion from the premises, with some rather sheepish people minus, their previous humming - saying perhaps it was not the right facility for him. Mr Dog is now back home and he learnt well at Doggy Boot Camp, he can now escape fences higher than 6 ft and with far more speed, and wags his tail even more.

I would have written about this earlier on, but have only recently acquired working internet again. My internet comes from a series of satellite dishes on church roofs with a wavering WiFi signal bounced into my house if lucky. The recent storm blew things off course. My man has been up on the roof several times, making my hair stand on end, re positioning things with me below trying to gauge the strength of signal reaching my computer, matched against his phone app which was guiding him as to which direction to point the dish. His hair raising antics do sometimes cause deep alarm, but all is well, However he is currently lacerated from head to toe with deep bramble scratches

. Late the other evening, between violent rain storms, just when darkness fell, he announced he was off for an evening walk. Having ignored the coastal path, and the keep out signs due to recent weather, he went bush... and found himself plunging in the dark down through deep holes covered with brambles, leaving a rather surprising 5ft drop down to the beach with nothing underneath other than deep estuary mud slime. His return to the house scratched violently with his clothes in tattered complete with an application of smelly mud from the waste down did nothing for me.

He has just arrived now in the bedroom to see what I am writing about and is wearing one of those lights strapped to his head normally worn by either miners or gynecologists. Luckily neither of those activities are imminent he is in fact going on a mission deep into the airing cupboard to do the central heating and hot water clock, having noticed my layers of gaffer tape over the thermostat to stop him turning it down. However his grim expression and hopeful voice about not needing the heating on much over the winter have brought about deep alarm. I do mainly rely on two stoves, but it does need to be on some of the time. Often when very cold usually with a thick white frost or some snow visible from the windows, I am normally told how unusually warm it is, and he is to be found sitting statue like in an office full of toppling balanced files getting colder and colder, this eventually culminates in him putting on a couple of fan heaters later in the afternoon due to how bitterly cold he feels, with sound effects of 'brrrr dear it has got very cold' etc.

Today's formula is not to get distracted by writing silly blogs and work my way through a list of foul jobs peppered with long rambling phone calls with no procrastination whatsoever. I always find the worst job is the best one to make busyness commence, oh a I do love a nice geriatric cat try clean! The best job is being my man's secretary, he is absolutely hilarious and we have bickering that should really either receive an Oscar or a Golden Globe Award, but nevertheless gets things done.

More fuss later. MaryF x

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18 Replies

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  • Love your fuss, Hope you get though your foul jobs today so you can write another blog soon. X

  • Well the procrastination express is in town! MaryF x

  • Haha love Mr Dog, brings back memories of my escape artist!! Nice to hear LDN is working well for you xx

  • Yes well Mr Dog visited me the night before last and appear very pleased with himself MaryF x

  • Great Mary, keep warm ( my hubby is always hot whereas I am always freezing) We have some humdingers about the heating, but as a woman I usually win xx

  • Yes, well I do exercise when I can to warm myself up and do wear double strength thermals but if ill... superglue and thermostat and a padlock on the airing cupboard! Mary F x

  • Lovely blog Mary. I well remember the times when I stayed with my Aunt in Cornwall (age 7, many years ago), that a neighbour would say to her that they saw her dog in Penzance - she lived in St Just. He used to take himself off regularly. Janet.

  • Thanks... I am sure East Anglia to Penzance will be nothing this dog... and by the way this true story is a good read. I shall be buying two copies via Amazon 2nd hand books one for her and her partner each plus the film: imdb.com/title/tt0803061/ Mary F x

  • We used to have a Bassett Hound, long story how we got him but the guy who wanted a 'dog with character' finally left his wife and wasn't going back until the dog went, so he went to live with my elderly grandmother who already had a golden retriever and a black lab. He came to live with us and was a total pain, he was always escaping and one day he got on a train, it was early days of electric trains, we were just up the road from the station, we heard he was seen on the platform then when the doors opened, he got in, then got off at the next station.

    The fuss was something else, my mother who was a very persuasive woman ( looking back I suspect she had an overactive thyroid too) had the tunnel searched for a body, no trace of him until evening when he arrived home unharmed. Add to that the fact he got car sick and travelled in the back of a VW Beetle with my brother and I, I always loved dogs (and cats and horses) but I was at an impressionable age and have never wanted to live with another dog since.

  • Naughty old dog! I don't have one, but rather a lot visit, the cats find it most frightful! Mary F x

  • My recycled cat who somehow or another now has total control of our household would be absolutely horrified if we even mentioned of the 'D' word to him never mind let one visit.

    Keep blogging your blog brightens my day :-)

  • I am sure there will be endless wittering soon, keep well. Mary F x

  • ....can't get my dog out of the car today having popped out with her on errands earlier - have checked on her and she seems fine - just snuggly in her Welsh Wool blanket . She is also Hypo - so probably having an off day :-) Just loved your Mr Dog story.... could he be hyper ??? :-) thank you MaryF.....

  • Ha Ha, no, but she my friend is hyper vigilant! Mary F x

  • yet another irrevellant look on life , and after the MANIC last 3 days that I have had [ and some say that only women can multi-task ] what a joy to hear from you again and I hope that the lovely muttly is having his own fun and enjoyment ------ some of them are more human than the rest of us ---- LoL alan xx

  • More soon. Mary F x

  • I once had a Black Lab who would take himself off for a walk daily in the woods behind our house despite the most elaborate fencing in that we concocted! We could never find out how he was getting out but he would return, completely exhausted, with a mischievous grin on his face, panting wildly, at the front door, presumably because the way he left was not so easy to use to gain entry back in again. So he would announce his return by sitting and barking! We eventually moved and he became very miserable because he couldn't find an escape route but your Mr Dog brought back some fond memories.

    There is another book idea Mary - The Adventures of Mr Dog….I can see the film already…move over Marley!

  • Yes,..well my friend was last seen being towed up the road on the end of a lead at great speed.... MaryF x

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