We’ve discussed getting another dog. Actually Mirinda has discussed it while I’ve said we’re not getting another dog. Anyway, when this subject does come up, we have more or less decided to get a cockerpoo rather than a labradoodle because the latter is a bit big. Today I saw a cockerpoo and it was enormous! Actually Carmen & Day-z chased it around the woods and it acted like a scared rabbit although it was 100 times bigger than the poodles.
Carmen seems to have forgotten her week of staying on the lead, though she did give me a brief look of fatalistic resignation just before I unfastened her from it at which point her tail went back up and wagged vigorously. She then took off into the woods, chasing the aforementioned giant dog.
The owners thought it was a great jape. Laughing and encouraging our two. They told me their cockerpoo was only a puppy and wondered what mine were, thinking they were the smaller variety of cockerpoo. They were astounded when I said they were actually poodles with very bad hair.
On the way back from our walk, I remembered mum saying how our new playground was somewhat lacking in things to actually play on so I snapped a shot that may help to alleviate this misconception.
Indeed, the ultimate test will come in two weeks time when Tom will be paying us a visit. We’re hoping the playground will be open by then. The promise is that it will be open before Easter (which doesn’t really mean anything) so my fingers are crossed. I’m hoping there’ll be a clown.
The local kids can’t wait. I’ve heard a fair few beseeching their parents for a go on the slide and the swings only to be disappointed when told it isn’t open yet. There’ll no doubt be a waiting list for each of the rides when it finally does open.
Apart from the excitement of shopping and walking the dogs, my day has mostly been spent, once more redistributing bluebells. The morning started a bit drizzly but the rain has held off (although the sky has been decidedly dodgy) so, rather than stripping the wallpaper again, I took out the kneeler and set to digging out then bedding down the multitude of bulbs that have infected the bed we don’t want them in.
The last lot I transplanted seem to have taken their move quite well so I’m holding out a little more hope for this second lot. Not having my grandmother’s green thumb means this is an amazing feat of amateurish good fortune!