Daisy seems to have made it her mission to humiliate me in public. She’s now around two and a half years old but I still have to tell her to go do “pee-pee and poo-poo” at night even if the neighbors can hear me; failure to give her that very particular instruction is likely to result in a wet bed. That would be bad enough, but now I must also administer frequent cuddle top-ups during our main walk each day.
The need for a cuddle top-up is signaled by nudging and nibbling the backs of my knees and generally getting under my feet. When I stop and look down, there’s that gorgeous, cheeky little face looking right up at me and before I know it, Daisy’s walking up my legs with her front paws. The top-up can now begin, and should always include the following key components: kisses to the bonce and/or the cheeks, ruffling of the ears, tickling of the tummy and massaging of the chest.
As far as I can tell the ordering of these components doesn’t matter but Daisy can tell if the process is being rushed, and if I bring the top-up to a premature close the demand will be re-issued. I’ve been caught giving cuddle top-ups by other dog walkers several times now; sometimes I think that maybe I wasn’t spotted, but then I see that tell-tale grin and shake of the head as they pass me and I know the game’s up. If I try to guide Daisy to a less exposed location she seems to forget the top-up, but the moment we get back on the path those pesky knee-nibbles come back in force. She wants her cuddle top-up, and she wants it in a publicly viewable place. I suppose I could resist it if really wanted to but.. nope, she’s just too cute.
Not wanting to leave Monkey out of things I try to make a fuss of him too, but when he’s on a walk he’s just not interested. He only wants affection when he’s back home, and given the amount of time he spends on his back getting a tummy tickle, I reckon he’s a very happy, contented boy.
Unfortunately, he’s also a boy who’s recently been in the doghouse.
Monkey has always been a bit of a silly boy when it comes to beds. Like Biggles before him he has the delusion that he’s a world-class bed maker, but whereas Biggles’ bed-making focused on trying to tug things into shape, Monkey prefers to scratch manically with his paws. When he does this in a crate the sound of his nails on the plastic base sounds a lot like an old-school DJ scratching a record, so of course we call him DJ Monkey.
Monkey will have a DJ session anytime and anywhere; he’s even gone hell-for-leather on Biggles’ canvas hammock chair – while Daisy was in it alongside him! It’s bad news if he does it on one our leather sofas, and it’s annoying if he decides to do it at night when we’re trying to some sleep, but until recently he’d never really damaged anything with his antics. That changed when I got an extra plush crate bed for him. It had really thick memory foam and lovely fat padded sides that were purpose-built to be a Beagle chin rest. I was certain it would keep him extra warm and comfy as we head into autumn and winter. It won’t of course, as it now has a big hole right in the center of it, not just through the top layer, but though the inner bag containing the foam and through the base layer as well. He’s totaled it.
He acted quite sheepish when I discovered the damage and gave him the “Oi!! Monkey what have you done!!?” routine. I think he got the message that this was a bit worse than shredding a whole loo roll on the hall rug or pulling plates and food containers off the kitchen worktops. He rested on our bed with his head between his paws as I cleaned up the mess and installed one of his older backup beds, and he got into his crate quickly and quietly when I pointed at (usually I have to remind him that all of his bits have to be in the crate before I can close it).
The Monkster didn’t spend long in the doghouse of course, and he never did any of the duvet-shredding that Beanie and Biggles indulged in as pups so he deserves some credit for that, but when it comes to beds he’s still a very, very silly boy.