A typical morning

Today I was woken at 4.30am by dh claiming "The dog's being sick."
Just what you want to hear as you come hazily out of sleep. Staggered into dressing gown and downstairs with said pooch, opened the door into the garden and out scooted Tim. You may be interested to know that at that time of the day, this far north in the UK, we had a clear blue sky and a vague hint of sunshine. The birds were singing all around the garden. I caught sight of a snail still munching on my new lupin, so it joined its pals in a plastic container.(I caught three last night doing similar things) (Reminder to self: they're still in that container and need to liberated on the field.)

So, pooch was not sick, but - look away now if you are squeamish - defecated in three different spots in the garden. (Not to self: still to be bagged and cleared away.) He tried to eat the plastic container holding the snails, and when deprived of that, sat by his food bowl with one paw raised and offering an angelic expression.

I gave him a few biscuits and staggered back up to bed. Tim went to sleep immediately (dh wasn't even awake at this point) while I lay and thought Oh My God - it's Puppy School in three hours time.

Lots of activity

I am chief shit-cleaner in this house and this week has been an exceptional one. Being nervous and in strange surroundings, the pup crapped about four times a day and sometimes he didn't make it outside into the garden. Still, because he's small, the piles were tiny and anyway, you just get on with it, don't you? Small he may be, but his determination is huge, as I've found already. The second night he was not prepared to stay in his newly-purchased basket in the kitchen, not by any means. His cries, yaps and howls were probably heard right around the cul de sac! I'm ashamed to say we gave in and brought him upstairs. Peace at last. He wants to be with us, preferably both together and runs from one to the other is we do separate things in the house.

Yesterday I went to Ogle Castle because the horses have arrived. The Magic Trust, which offers carriage driving for the disabled, runs from there. I got interested last autumn when I saw the horses pulling carriages around the Gibside estate, but they were just about to stop operations for the winter, and we were about to go off to Australia. With the coming of spring, operations are starting up again.

So yesterday I "met" the horses, Sparky and Bumper, groomed them and almost choked on the hair coming off them. They'll look much more streamlined when they've shed their winter coats. Then we were shown how to harness a horse to a carriage, and tried it ourselves - two other learner/volunteers beside myself. Complicated or what? Breastplate first, I remember that, and bridle last; but two other bits go on in between. Reins and whatever they call the "girth" that goes around his stomach and latches around his tail. It'll take me a while before I learn where all the bits go, and they have to be correctly fitted because when all is done, a wheelchair is clamped onto the bed of the carriage and the person in it drives the horse. There is an able-bodied driver beside them in case of need, and I stood on the footplate at the back to act as groom when we went out for a long walk with Sparky. Naturally I'm not in the photo, because I'm taking it as Sparky went by.

Must run, because Tim's appointment is looming! Will add pics later.
Later: Vet says Tim has a heart murmur and recommends an ultrasound scan to see what's what. H'mmmm.

New arrival

Not a book, but a puppy! Tim. Three months old, very small, half the size of his big brother. He was very politely and quietly sick in a towel in the car five times on the way home, so  he wasn't up to smiling for his picture. He's crapping a lot still, probably nervous and strange, but he slept through the night but for one little burst of crying. Two piles and two puddles waiting for me in the morning. Good job the kitchen floor is what we used to call linoleum but is now known as cushion flooring.
So now I'm off to buy him all the necessaries he needs. Since he might grow quite rapidly I'll buy cheaply and invest in good stuff when he's six months or more. I can see I'm going to have no time for anything for the next few days except looking after Tim!