No Balls, Blue Balls & Running Wild
This month with the lovely Lilly has been painful, joyful and mysterious.
Let's go in reverse order and start with the mysterious...
Turner Towers is not a big place. It's a 2 up 2 down mid-terrace that is quite full of stuff as it also doubles as the Mud Life headquarters. I tell you this, dear reader, to explain that there isn't a lot of nooks or crannys that haven't been filled (eg. at the moment the kitchen is sporting a newly delivered tent and portaloo for a later review), but, and here's the mysterious bit, our house seems to be a bizarre Bermuda Triangle style zone that magically causes balls to evaporate into thin air.
Lilly has now developed a fondness for those bouncy balls that are solid but a little bit squishy. She likes to play with them a bit - she sits at the top of the stairs and drops them down, watches them bounce all the way down, then chases after them. It keeps her amused for a while, then it happens....the ball vanishes!
We look where she's last been, no ball. We look under the couch, under chairs, under the table and around any areas she can get too, all to no avail. We aren't talking one or two balls, no, I think we are up to 6 or maybe 7 now. We only have 4 rooms and a bathroom in which she can hide them, but after many searches neither of us can find them, so if you have balls (of the bouncy variety) BEWARE of the Breightmet Triangle - once they enter they will be gone forever!
Now for the joyful....
As I've mentioned before we were spoilt by our next door's labrador Giz. He would happily sauter with us in the park with no lead needed, and he never bothered with anyone, dogs or any wildlife. Unfortunately we learned early on that Lilly is definitely a sighthound when she decided to run off after squirrels whilst playing ball in the park (our fault really, it was too soon after we got her). After that we've had trust issues with letting her off the lead, but this means she couldn't run about unless we booked a private dog field (a rather pricey option).
Notoriously Lurchers have a reputation for rubbish recall - once they get eyes on their quarry they are off and gone, so we bought her a super long 50 foot lead, which allowed her a chance to run a bit, and we began the process of training her to come back when called (I can recommend the training book Total Recall by Pippa Mattinson).
Damian does the morning walk around the park at about the same time each morning, and he and Lilly would keep meeting the same people and dogs each day - some on leads, some not. She would start the playtime crouching poses, then a bit of chaos would ensue as either leads got tangled as they whizzed around each other, or she'd get frustrated that she couldn't pursue the loose dogs who wanted to play chase.
But things have changed, much to Lilly's and our joy.
One morning Damian decided to test a theory that if Lilly's attention was on the other dog that she wouldn't run off, and he unclipped the lead. Well she was off like a shot playing like dogs do - running, chasing, catching each other, then repeat, over and over again. She played so much that she was truly 'dog-tired', but oh so happy. Lilly has now a play pack of sorts - Sally, Teddy and a few more, and she's even got our next door neighbour's pug in on the action (though its heavy breathing does worry me).
Lastly, here comes the painful...
Having a lively dog is great, but having a dog, who doesn't understand spacial awareness or personal space, can cause personal damage. Many times we've gone down to her level to provide her favourite belly rubs, only to have that exact moment coincide with the very second she decided she'll spring up to greet us, which results in a rather painful headbutt - she has a very solid head!
Then there's the play fighting injuries. Damian and Lilly like to play fight - he taunts her with his arms, and she tries to catch them. She is so gentle that if she catches his hand she just gums him and lets go, but she doesn't realise that she has these demon hooked nails - the dewclaws - that she kept scratching Damian with. When we finally realised they were there I got the clippers and took the point off, but that wasn't before she had made so many scratches that Damian started to look like he was self-harming (not a good look when you are a school counsellor!).
Lastly, this painful moment (and the one that makes me chuckle as she can't do it to me) shall be called the Royal Bash....
Again with her total lack of spatial awarenes, she has a tendancy to run, walk and nudge into things, and by things I especially mean Damian's crown jewels. Her head is in the perfect place to perform a glancing blow of testicle smushing intensity.
I couldn't have timed it better, because as I write this very article Damian has just walked back in complaining that she got him in the meat'n'two veg again, this time because she turned to go after he had stopped to talk to his dad (I'm not sniggering, honest).