Hello All,
Once again after a stressful and hectic week at work, I come home and relax my Friday night away only to be awoken on Saturday morning at 6.20am. Listening to my new addition cry and whine downstairs I knew there was only one thing for it. The puppy trauma through bedtime routines and trying to keep our little Frankenstein happy in his own company is still an almighty issue. I suppose naively I thought that our issue would be toilet training or yapping and barking, and whilst the latter is an issue, it is rarely present. Unless of course, you leave him alone for an eighth of a second.
Mind you I have never had a puppy. I remember as a child begging and pleading my parents to buy me a puppy. In fact, I am pretty sure that I even settled for a dog as I got a little older but every year sure is to be sure there would be a canine companion at the top of my birthday and Christmas list. I longed for one so bad that eventually, my parents gave in.
We called her Trixie and she was a chocolate Labrador. Looking back I am not entirely sure how old she was when we got her but I know that she was still a boisterous pup. I think I remember my parents telling me that she had come from a rescue home, although I am not certain on. All I know is that she stayed with us a while before we had to give her away. My brother was very small, still a baby himself really and I think that Trixie had taken it on herself to make him part of her pack. As a result whenever he would cry she would come running, although she very rarely left his side and always slept under his pinstriped blue and white baby bouncer. As time went by she grew to growl if anyone went near him and snarled if anyone even dared to pick him up, even if he was blind crying.
One day as my baby brother began to whimper I went as any big sister to make sure he was OK. I must have only been about six or seven at the time but as I went to pick him out of the baby bouncer he was in to comfort him Trixie lost it and went to bite me, narrowly missing my face. She caught me though and in a bit of a fright more than anything I started to cry. There was blood where she had nicked my nose as she has snapped up at me and it was at that moment I think my parents took the executive decision that Trixie needed to be rehomed. This time we had been lucky but if any more blood had been drawn then she may have gotten a taste for it and then she would have no chance at her happily ever after home as she would have to be put down. That was the least of the families worry as what would have happened if she had turned on the baby and snapped at him next time.
And so that was the end of my first encounter with owning my own dog, or at least a little. All throughout my late teens and twenties (so far at least) when I gradually gained more independence and got a serious boyfriend and a house I thought and even chatted with him about getting a pup to complete our little set-up. I mean I should have really seen he was no good for me when he told me he didn't really like doggo's and certainly didn't want one as a pet.
After that relationship fell apart (not for the lack of dog ownership I must say) I moved on and after getting my own little bachelor pad in the centre of Bedford I craved some furry company and a little man in my life that wasn't as much hassle as some of the dates I went on. I thought it would help with me meeting new people and making friends and maybe more. But alas the one-bed top floor penthouse had no balcony and thus I was not allowed one by my landlord. And then I met Mr Warehouse and his beloved pup and the rest is history.
They say you have your first one, the golden child (quite literally in our case) and they are an absolute dream. Sleeps well, doesn't cry, good by themselves, not bothered by anything and generally a happy baby, or in our case a happy pooch. My Step-Dog is not phased by anything and takes the world in her stride, people knocking at the door, maybe the occasional gruff, but fireworks? No problem. Potty training? Don't sweat it! Motorbikes and strange loud noises? Pffft! Children and other dogs? No bother. Left alone? Happy to have her own company.
Therefore you are lulled into a false pretence that your next one will be just as easy. Just like with babies, Mr. Warehouse grabbed the opportunity a few weeks ago to make our family four paws bigger and finally my dream of having a little furry baby came true. I would have said that having Frankenstein is a little like being a parent, so I am told. He is sometimes a nightmare, OK most of the time, but his love and affection is growing and our bond is getting stronger by the day and I am sure that we will have the relationship I have always dreamt of ... Just need to let him know its OK to be alone sometimes!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Evening all,
So last week I was talking of learning to drive and slowly but surely scraping the money together in order to afford my motorcycle licence, and whilst still important something caught my eye as I was reading a newspaper the other day on my morning commute.
About a year ago, childhood sweethearts from Cardiff in South Wales gave birth to a little baby boy called Teddy and his twin, Noah. Teddy was poorly and after a few hours he sadly past away. A story widely covered by the British media I was in awe of how little Teddy's parents handled the traumatic ordeal as after much deliberation they allowed his tiny frame to be donated in the aid of helping others through being a donor. I believe that both his heart and his kidneys were used in helping someone else live a day that this brave little bear couldn't have.
I was shocked to learn that since the 1st of April 2015, there are over six-thousand people awaiting a organ in the UK. That means that every single one of those people, in the majority of circumstances, are awaiting a death to bring them life. In the last twenty-seven days since the beginning of the month, sixty-eight people have donated something in aid of helping another person to live on which is fantastic, but in comparison to the one-hundred and seventy-one people who took a transplant or donated organs its sad to see that people are more willing to take than they are to give. And this got me thinking about me. And as I stared out the window at the oncoming traffic and the trees and buildings passing me by I thought about what I would do in that situation. In all honesty I would like to think that everyone would act in the same way, giving up parts of their child so another human life can be saved. I would like to think that I could do this, however if faced with the circumstances I don't know if I would truly be able to go through with it. I have always said that organ donation should be an opt into service as opposed to the current, opt-in system we have here in the UK. If I don't want my organs being shipped out across the country, possibly even the world, then I should be within the power to say no before that happens. I am currently on the donor register in England and Wales and am proud to know that if I sadly die (unfortunate I know) that I could potentially save multiple lives, and thus ending and preventing the grief for their families, at least for a short while anyway. I have donated, at least registered them for donation should anything happen to me, some of my most medically sought after assets including my Liver, lungs and Kidneys ... Just like Teddy!
There is a line whereby I draw and say enough is enough. I would have certain rules on who gets a piece of me, I mean there isn't that much "brilliant" for everyone! I would ask that my organs are never given to anyone who failed to look after their own, for example my lungs to an inherent smoker for the past thirty years or to a alcoholic whose liver had packed up from all the White Ace and Frosty Jacks. No, I would insist that my items go to someone whom will love them as much as I have and cherish them as they're own. As well as that, out of the list of donated items you can gift someone I have only two exceptions; My eyes and my heart. My eyes, or moreso my Corneas which are of most value to people can bring the magic of sight, yes, however I would want them kept in tact as I head to the grave, in the knowledge that no-one will every see some of the most beautiful, and sometimes heartbreaking things. My heart on the other hand I am grappling with. On the one side you have the fact that it is something all the more metaphoric and symbolic. With my heart I have loved many (you have seen the amount of Mister's I go through) and may there be many, many more to come. The phrase "Listen to your heart" is one I think sometimes I have done too much in the past but worry that in the future I will look back and regret I never did enough of. But then on the other side of the coin you have the simple scientific and biological fact that it is just tissue and muscle and a organ that powers my entire being. Without it my existence would be nothing and I would quite frankly be dead!
Death is horrible to think of and about, but it is as natural as nature intended. From the moment we are born we are dying (and in some cases a Monday afternoon can escalate that feeling all too well some may say) but one thing is for sure that as we take our first breath's as babies, screaming for air, we are destined for a life of unknown fortune and fate! Its not nice to have that conversation with Granny or Grandpa but sometimes I really do feel like you have to. In order to preserve and respect their wishes beyond the grave you have to talk about it when you have the chance, after all you wont get any answers from a cold corpse and I would hope that my friends and family would know what I want and help me in achieving that after I am gone.
I would hope that I could make it into my nineties before I die. I would like to get a letter from the Queen (or King by that point) congratulating me on my 100th birthday. I would like to see my children, have children, who in turn will have more children. I would like to fart and blame it on a dog I don't have and get away with it just because I am old. But if that day doesn't come, and I am called away on business by another entity then I am safe in the knowledge that I can not only spread humour and laughter through my story telling and wit, but also through helping others, because its not every day you can say you saved not one, but many lives, maybe even created a few in the process of giving something un-giveable.
To find out more, please visit: http://www.organdonation.nhs.uk/ and don't just think about it, register and start saving lives as soon as yours has ended. Thank You.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Evening Everyone,
So I hope you have all had a good week. I know I certainly have, well at least the weekend anyhow. After finally being reunited with my office and working all week at my desk through the mountainous region of papers and fresh leads I eventually made it to the weekend. With nothing much planned other than catching up on sleep, watching trash TV, and my last supper with Mr. Cheese before he ventures into Africa. Oh yeah, and a little thing called a first date!
So I met Mr. ToyBoy on a dating website called Plenty Of Fish several weeks ago and have been chatting ever since. We swapped numbers a few weeks ago before I went to Reading Festival and arranged for our First Date once I was back. So Saturday soon rolled round and I was shit hot as I walked out into the cool and still undecided English weather. Making my way into town I didn't feel nervous at all and was at ease with yet again another First Date that could go hideously wrong. "Can you even top a date with a clown and someone who is possibly still married to a Thai prostitute?" I thought to myself as I bumbled along the bus route. Arriving at the specified destination I waited patiently. At twenty-minutes too early I was beginning to get anxious. Would he even arrive? Has he already arrived, took one look and legged it? Will he look like him? Was it really a good idea to wear a faux leather shirt to a First Date? Nerves getting the better of me I messaged him, letting him know I had arrived. Seconds later I heard a ping.
"I thought we were meeting at half-one? :) xxx" The message read. Checking my calender I felt like the biggest penis in the universe. Making up some excuse and face-palming myself I wandered into the town centre for some window-retail therapy to compose myself, laughing all the way. "How stupid of yourself. Gosh Abbey you are such a tool sometimes!" I silently scolded as I looked at Blanket Capes of the new Autumn/Winter 2014 collections in the high street stores. Returning to the meeting spot I anticipated the arrival of my date. At just twenty I was sceptical on his idea of what this encounter may lead to and at nearly three-years his senior (God I am so old) I worried about the compatibility. As his waltzed round the corner I swooned as his arms pulled me into his tall frame. A quick cuddle was quickly followed by a brisk walk in hunt of the coffee shop I had already picked out on my walk to work the morning before. Conversation was electric right from the get go and he was more attractive than he was on his dating profiles or his social media pages. A good and proper TDH - Tall, Dark and Handsome.
Seating ourselves in the middle of the coffee house we sipped on hot chocolates topped with marshmallows and cream. I couldn't help but notice flecks of amber in his already deep brown eyes. "Best put on my water-wings I might fall in" I chuckled to myself. Giddy with excitement we chatted away about all manner of things from usual things like films and music to festivals and holidays. No subject I think was left untouched as we skipped from tale to tale involving everyone from family members and friends to the latest headlines. Before we knew it I felt as though I had known Mr. ToyBoy for years and with my initial concerns that my young date was not what I was looking for in this whole world of dating I soon noticed that I was having more laughs with him than I think I had in a long, long time. He was young and fresh and new and exciting. Something my life had been lacking for a few months now. Parts of my date intrigued me. Like why would he want to go on a date with me first of all? Although I may party like I was born in 1994 sometimes I am still a respectable twenty-something with a fast approaching birthday which will then leave myself and my date exactly three years, eleven months and several days difference in age. The fact that in conversation Mr. ToyBoy explained that I was only a few months younger than one of his sisters made me question why I had even said yes. But then I realised that there was a massive grin splitting my face in two and I was having the time of my life. Ahh yes, that's why!
As the Date continued I thought that it might be a good idea to take a walk along the river and since Mr. ToyBoy had not really been to Bedford before I thought I would highlight the good bits of the City. Walking along the edge of the river bank we stopped at the foot of a familiar bridge. Pushing aside memoirs of Mr. Cheese and butterflies I was ushered to take the first steps onto it. Almost as a right of passage I did so knowing that barely twelve months ago I was doing the same thing with a different face. Upon reaching the other side we continued our conversations, well, that was until we saw the cutest little ball of fur bundling along the gravel path winding round the river. Simultaneously we whispered about how sweet it looked and our fury at not having a puppy like that. I turned and looked at my date as he did to me. A mutual love for dogs! Bliss. As we unintentionally followed the canine and its owners we kept brushing hands. As wonderful as it was I wondered about when the first move would be made if ever. Just then as we overtook the fluff-pup and after giving it a little pat on its soft head, Mr. ToyBoy gently and sweetly took ahold of my hand. Heart skipping slightly I felt my face crack once more. Trying to hide my excitement, head-thoughts turned to Mr. Cheese and how much effort and courage it took for me to build up and ask him to hold my had as we waltzed the hot streets of Kensington and Chelsea back in the summer of last year.
Settling down on a bench I could tell what was coming next. Nervousness racked his Rugby-playing body as he obviously pondered on how to approach my lips. Secretly knowing what my Date was planning I pouted and made my face look as cute as I could. More chatter took over though and before long we were deep in conversation about my inability as a graduated Media Studies student to have gone through my course not watching classics like Lord of The Rings and Disney's Frozen. I think I may have even had a solo performance of Let It Go?! Laughing along he asked if I was cold. I said yes. Without another word I was forced into a cuddle. Snuggling into his chest I mentioned about my furnace-like heat that I seemed to give off. Mr. ToyBoy agreed and followed up with a comment that made me think that maybe age didn't matter so much.
"I wish I had met you sooner Abbey. You make me feel really at ease and have made getting better easier." (He was poorly with a case of probable man-flu earlier in the week) Mr. ToyBoy said in a deep whisper. Turning my head up to face him I saw his brown eyes gaze into mine. As the curtains fell over our peepers and our heads turned I knew it wouldn't be long before I got to know just how mature he was. Locking lips I could feel the delightfully light but intense pressure on the nape of my neck as we kissed passionately in the increasingly chillier weather. Gently teasing each other we got into a rhythm and continued for what was only mere seconds but in which I wished could never end. Breaking from the lustful make-out sesh I returned my head to Mr. ToyBoy's shoulder and looked out to the still water of the river. I smiled at the tactical positioning of where we had chose to indulge in our first kiss. On the left was the wrong bridge. On the right was the right bridge. Somehow I felt at ease with my decision to move on from Monsieur Cheese. I was happy and smiling and potentially had someone here with me holding me in his arms that wanted me. Just as I took reflection on how at ease I was and to the last person I shared with part of the world with I felt a little peck on my hairline. Sweet as it was I think I knew then that I really liked my Date.
After getting caught in a rain storm and nearly catching Hypothermia we called it a day and headed back to town so we could make our own ways home. Unfortunately due to the rain (and not the fact that we were stopping every few steps to have a cheeky kiss in said rain) Mr. ToyBoy had missed his connection home. So before calling a cab we headed into a Caffe to get warm and dry as well as indulge in a little sweetness in the form of two more hot chocolates and a white-chocolate Blondie to share. "He can share this Blondie any day!" I pondered arrogantly to myself as I took a lady-like gulp from my creamy concoction. Sharing out the treats of yet more marshmallows, crumbly chocolate and nutty brownies conversation ebbed. I didn't really know what to say, although I knew the Date itself would have to end at some point. Rising from the table we stepped into the fresh outside and dialled for a driver. As we said our goodbyes we both agreed on having a wonderful afternoon in each other's company. Another smooch before I dragged myself away, struggling not to skip all the way home.
Mr. ToyBoy. The one to bring about the question of age-difference. The one who makes me feel like I am fifteen again. The one who makes me quander what I am really looking for in 2014. In all honesty I don't know. But I know one thing for certain and that is that if the first Date is anything to go by, the second Date will be just as electric. Date number two - Bring it on Mr. ToyBoy!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
