Dogs on the Cat Walk

Yasmine Le Bon for Mungo and Maud 

I've been in a foul mood ever since this I opened my computer this morning and was greeted by Yasmine Le Bon all set for a stroll around Primrose Hill with her three pint-sized pooches. I'm still in the discarded black leggings that I picked up off the floor at 6.15 this morning, a matted fleece and a sleeveless, puffy Nike jacket of Joe's. Well it was cold and dark when I took Ed to the bus stop, then the front door was left open for ages while a stack of shelving was delivered for the Elle Decoration January Storage Special and by the time I'd made the delivery guys cups of tea the girls from Elle Deco had arrived and I would have looked daft disappearing upstairs and returning five minutes later in an alpaca poncho, white trousers and a pair of perfectly scuffed brown brogues. 
Emma called round at about midday for a dog walk. She looked elegant in a dark trench coat and sunglasses. I muttered something about looking a mess as I struggled to fold Capri's slender legs into her aubergine knitted coat and fastened her tasteful black-leather collar around her dainty neck. Hmmm.... think I'll get an overweight, scruffy dog to boost my self-esteem. 
Ed caught me browsing pictures of overweight, scruffy dogs on the internet this evening to use on the blog. 
'Are we getting another dog??!! Please can we get another dog?'
At that point Brian emerged from his studio, wearing paint spattered overalls and his face smeared in charcoal dust he spoke for the first time all day.
'We are not getting another dog. A man walking two dogs looks like a man walking two dogs. A man walking three dogs looks like a dog walker.'
Ed ignored him.


Here's Madame Pri Pri in her pashmina, posing with other whippets at Rachel's place.

    'mummy? daddy? what am I doing here with all these dogs? When are you coming to collect me?'

Black Swan

It's the hottest day of the year - 29 degrees - and Madam is insisting on wearing her new Black Swan collar. I suggested that black velvet and lace may not be quite the thing for a trot in the blazing sun but she just gave me a disdainful look and stood stubbornly by the door. Never having mastered 'casual' myself, we looked a bit too matchy matchy over the park this morning; her in evening wear and me in a cocktail dress. 

Summer Breeze

Brian just opened the back door to let the dogs out for a pee and a waft of jasmine-perfumed air flooded the kitchen. I took my glass of wine and had a wander around the night garden. Capri was lying on the trampoline looking at the moon and Enzo was studying a snail. The jasmine is in full bloom and although it's not a balmy evening (I have a coat and scarf on) it is very lovely out there, with all the flowers glowing ghostly white in the twilight. Its more breeze than summer but it still makes me think of my favourite song of all time. (Don't switch off before the guitar bit.)

Sausage Diet

'Seems like a hell of a lot of dog food for two whippets.’ John moans as we rope him into the human conveyor belt to ferry the slippery, plastic-covered sausages of meat from the delivery boxes into the kitchen.

‘Oh shush.’ I pass him a sausage and he passes it onto Brian who is stacking them neatly (rather anally actually) into the freezer.  ‘It’s all been worked out scientifically; they ask you loads of questions about your dog, like age, weight, how active they are and stuff like that, then they send you the EXACT right amount for a whole month.’

‘A month! There’s enough here for a year.’

The dogs watch on in silent disbelief.

'Sarah!' Brian calls out, his head in the freezer. ‘We’re going to have to eat these fish fingers and ice cream tonight. And the ciabbatta and these burgers and whatever this is. There’s no more room in here.’

I counted, there were 62 of the fat sausages, each one is about a foot long and jam-packed with crushed chicken, beef or lamb – bones and all. Yuck! 

‘Sixty-two, I suppose that works out at one a day each for a month.’ I slit one open and the contents burst out and ooze all-over the work surface. I long for the days before we were educated about our pets needs and could guiltlessly shake a few dried biscuits into a bowl.

Needless to say the mutts can’t get enough of the stinky mush. We were just coming to the last few sausages when yesterday the charming man from Darlings Dog Food rang to see if I was ready to place another order. 

‘How are Enzo and Capri getting on with it?’ he enquires

'Great thanks. They love it.'

‘Same again then?’ he asks. ‘Next Friday OK for delivery?’

‘Yes, that’s fine. Thanks. Do you have my credit card details from last time?’

‘Yes Mrs Munro, all here on our encrypted system.’

‘Lovely, see you next week then. Bye. Thank you!’

‘They’re very nice there.’ I say to Brian. A few seconds later a copy of my order appears in my email. ‘And really efficient.’

Then the phone rings.

‘Mrs Munro? It’s Derek form Darlings dog food. I was just looking back at your first order, the one you placed last month, and there appears to be a typing error on it. Instead of 2.5 kilos of the chicken it says 25 kilos. The decimal point was in the wrong place. I don’t suppose the warehouse actually sent you 25 kilos did they?’

Silence

‘Or did they?’

‘I don’t, I don’t know. What does 25 kilos look like? How many ‘sausages’ would that be?' My mind’s racing.

‘Well, lets see. Each sausage is about 500 grams so that would be about an extra…what? Forty to fifty sausages on that order.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘Don’t worry Mrs Munro.’ He senses my panic. ‘It’s entirely our fault. How much have the dogs actually been eating a day?’

‘I’m not sure…. About one sausage.’

'Between them?' He asks, trying to sound casual.

'Ummmm, no.  More like one each. How much are they supposed to have a day then?'

‘Well… we normally suggest 3% of what they weigh and you said they weighed 12 kilos so, let me see, divided by 10 that would be about 1.2 divided by 3 that would be… between about a third to half a sausage a day.’

Oh dear. No wonder Capri can’t get off the sofa. She’s been eating her own bodyweight in food everyday for the last month.

Come on! Walkies!

 

Hound Asleep

                                   Well... what's a whippet supposed to do on a wet Friday in June?

Calm in the Midst of Chaos

A well known store are shooting their furniture and home-ware collection here today.

They've shoved all our stuff - including the dog into the front room.

Short Shopping

Whippets welcome.
Part One of an occasional series featuring whippet-friendly shops.


Shopping for shorts is Brian's least favourite pastime - I won't go into the reasons why - but Hub made the experience far less painful this season by having a really great selection. He had barely crossed the threshold when a pair of Dr Denim's in Army Green caught his eye and the whole transaction, including trying on was completed in under 90 seconds. 
Despite the speed shopping Capri managed to find herself a comfy spot and dozed off, so everyone was happy...

.... except me, so we crossed the road to the ladies Hub where Enzo made himself at home while I had a browse.

ps. The wedding was fantastic fun but the rain and hail stones were so torrential that we all scrammed in search of rum punch instead of posing outside for photos. Lots of sunny colours inside though.