And then there were three

Brian moved in with us a week ago. Brian is owned (if dogs ever actually belong to anyone) to our friend Gary but, on account of Gary’s extended shifts at the airline, we’ve agreed to look after him (if dogs ever actually think they’re looked after) on a purely temporary basis.

That was a very long sentence to describe a week which has seemed to have been very very short. Just like Brian’s incredibly small Jack Russell legs, which I have to say can move very very fast.

I feel like Brian has lived with us for a month, if not a decade. He’s set himself right at home. I’ve half expected to see him wearing slippers, throw on a smoking jacket and pull up a chair by the fire. In fact he’s made himself so alarmingly  (disarmingly) comfortable he’s now like a part of the furniture, or at the very least a sort of furry foot stool or writhing hot water bottle. That is except for when Guido or I move towards the back door and Brian will leap up like grease lightening with the kind of enthusiasm for extended exercise I could only fantasise about. Since he’s lived with us I think I’ve lost more than five pounds. If he stays long term I may shed so much weight I could be in danger of completely disappearing. I’ll be like the incredible shrinking man taking the dog for a walk. I’ll have to wrap myself in bandages – invisible man style – so I don’t get run over by a London bus when I take Brian to the park.

Boy, does Brian LOVE the PARK. Did you see how I shouted that one out by putting the words, love, and park, in capitalisation and bold? If this blog could add bells and whistles it would be ringing and resounding.

Pre-Brian, when I used to go to the park with Guido, it would usually involve me lolling on the grass on a rug reading House and Garden or eating a muffin or slurping an enormous ice cream. Invariably there were ants. Often there would also be perverts lurking in the trees. The perverts I could live with but the ants were a right royal pain in the arse. That’s, ass, to North American readers. Well when Brian and I go to the park now there’s no laying around. He wants me running and jumping about like Usain Bolt. Its absolutely exhausting. Sometimes Guido will come with us too and throw a frisbee or a ball, or both, and then after an hour when we get back home to our loft Brian will be all frisky and wagging his tail but Guido and I will be like we need to get hooked up to oxygen masks.

“How long do you think this temporary Brian arrangement,” as Guido has started calling it, “will last?” said Guido flopped out on our sofa and drinking a beer straight from the bottle this afternoon.

Brian was sighing periodically at Guido’s feet.

I was also drinking a generous glug of white wine – for purely medicinal purposes you understand?

Brian didn’t look happy.

I don’t think he approves of our reckless habit of drinking alcohol in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. I guess proper hosts would at least have offered him a glass.

38 thoughts on “And then there were three

  1. Oh just what you two need…a Jack Russell. He will for sure match your wit, and wear you out with his energy. And if you think he’s appalled by your afternoon drinking, wait till he see you two’s bedroom antics and mayo painting……..

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  2. Okay, people own dogs and cats own people! I couldn’t cope with a Jack Russell. I can barely keep up with my five year old Maltese, Cujo (aptly named, by the way), and dear 13 year old Bella, my bichonpoo (she of the one tooth). Aerobic dog sitting is so not my thing 🙂 You two are such good friends.

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  3. #1. You started out with a notoriously energetic breed, so if you can handle Brian, you can handle any dog. #2. Unfortunately, my experience is the weight doesn’t stay off, I just compensate in other ways to keep it on, it seems. I’m sure YOU’RE totally different. #3. The Brian sitch might be temporary, but the dog one, maybe not?? #4. George Michael was probably in those bushes at one point. Your opportunity is gone – – though maybe Andrew is lurking there now.

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    • #1 – Really? Ignorance is bliss I guess. #2 – let’s hope so though I totally get it that not all dog owners are totally ripped muscle wise (as in muscular) I’m sure you are. #3 – watch this space. #4 I won’t be taking a look. #5 – there is no #5.

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  4. Okay do not I repeat DO NOT let him up on the bed at night! If so the stories that give old men like me vicarious pleasure will dwindle!!! (Don’t be rude!) And secondly do not I repeat DO NOT fall for that “unconditional love of a dog” thingy. It’s lies I tell you LIES! They love you for the food and the walks! Now excuse me …. Nora is on her back on the couch that she’s not allowed up on … waving her paws in that way that says she wants a belly rub and …..

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  5. I am glad Brian is adjusting to your household and serving as your personal trainer. I hope Gary is doing okay (and gets visitation rights sometimes).

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  6. Jack Russells are fun dogs. Have you heard of the movie Used Cars with Kurt Russell from around 1980? There’s a dog called Tobey in it that should have won an Oscar. Seriously.

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  7. Glad the 3 of you are having fun – to me, anything done with a doggie makes it all the more enjoyable, given their enthusiasm for the least little thing – they take absolutely nothing for granted 🙂

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  8. It sounds like you may be tempted to get a dog of your own and are trying to convince yourself why you shouldn’t😊 Guido would probably go all crimson like when you’re helping in the kitchen if you wanted to keep one

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