The UK's Independence Day

Hello, 

After being back at work now for coming up to a fortnight tomorrow with our "new normal", it sufficient to advise that not much has changed, and you can take from that what you will. My god though, I am certainly glad to have a break from the office next week. 

As we enter our fifteenth week of lockdown in the UK the 100-days mark has well and truly been and gone. Like the springtime we missed, the UK is slowly blooming again with business and social activities being reopened within the next week in most if not all areas of England with Scotland and Wales to follow suit soon after I expect. With figures from the BBC released today confirming that just 25 people recorded in the last 24 hours have passed away from Coronavirus (Monday 29 June 2020) it is looking like we are over the worst of it. 

As explained before, the disease COVID-19, was first confirmed in the UK at the end of January, however, the number of daily confirmed cases and related deaths only began to soar significantly by the second half of March and after lockdown restrictions came into force at the end of that month, numbers came to a peak mid-April, falling steadily ever since. The BBC confirms though that some of these deaths "are likely to include people with undiagnosed coronavirus or those who died as an indirect result of the pandemic. Coronavirus accounted for about 11% of all deaths in the UK in the week to 12 June, according to death registration data - a drop from 14% the previous week. In the week to 17 April, when deaths from the virus reached their peak, this figure was just under 40%."

Whilst this may be true and the scaremongering continues, I received a good news phone call last week that was certain to brighten any dreary news Mr Warehouse and I was to see. Several months ago in what can only be described as a wet and uneventful January, I wrote New Year, Newquay. Now normally at that time of year I would be gearing myself right up for convincing Mr Warehouse to save up and go on a beachy break away somewhere teasing him with thoughts of eating out every night, romantic boat trips and cocktail hour all hours. But as the holiday adverts rolled round on Telly and Jess Glynn sang about holding your hand on the Thomas Cook film (RIP), this year Mr Warehouse put his foot down and said we would not be going. His words were "we have a wedding to pay for" and mine was "Pleeeeease". Whilst he had a point, with less than nine months to go until the big day, I really wanted to beach it up somewhere and enjoy the last holiday on my Passport as a 'Miss', besides I didn't even get to take my engagement ring with me. 

So with Mr Warehouse not wanting a holiday at all and me craving something remotely similar to Malaga (minus the skin cancer-inducing sunburn) I knew he wouldn't be able to resist me mentioning a holiday to Cornwall. One of his favourite places, we hadn't been back there [Newquay] since a family wedding several years ago and both of us had missed it ever since. The following year after visiting for said wedding, our Older pooch got poorly with her Pyometra and we promised her as we went to Vet appointment that we would take her there one day to feel the sand between her paws. Now whilst she has since been to Great Yarmouth and Bournemouth on little holibobs, Newquay holds something special for Mr Warehouse and I both, something we want to share with our fur babies, old and new. 

With little resistance, I convinced Mr Warehouse to book off a week and head down to the English Riviera. After much hunting and scouring the web for the best deal, I found the perfect pre-wedding-moon! Boasting a bar and free WiFi, Retallack Resort & Spa was situated in Padstow, just 10 miles from Newquay's beautiful beaches. There is a restaurant serving British cuisine, and free private parking is available. However, at close to £300 the £40 per dog per stay was a little too steep and instead, we decided to park that property for another visit. If only it wasn't a four-odd hour journey that would have been the ideal and perfect place to wake up as a newly-wed. Oh well, I am sure I can make an excuse to make a trip down that way for a stay. And so Mr Warehouse and I settled with a stay at the Ladyevelyn situated at the heart of the Newquay Bay Resort. Just two miles from Newquay this peaceful holiday park is set in a peaceful valley, amongst the surrounding countryside, allowing us as guests to enjoy the best of both worlds. The Newquay Bay can cater to all of our needs with fantastic facilities including bar, heated indoor and outdoor pools, sauna and steam rooms and excellent entertainment. 

Less than a mile to the nearest beach (Porth Beach) our holiday chalet, Ladyevelyn, offers accommodation with WiFi, private parking and puppies can come - Free. Of. Charge. Each static caravan has a fully equipped kitchen with a microwave, a fireplace, a seating area with a sofa, a flat-screen TV and a private bathroom with a shower and a hairdryer. A fridge, an oven and stovetop are also offered, as well as a kettle and a coffee machine. A bicycle rental service is available at the reception and with more beaches to explore including Lusty Glaze and Tolcarne Beach within a few minutes it isn't hard to see why we chose it. 

So last week as I sat at my desk my mobile buzzed with a phone call from a number I didn't recognise. Answering I was introduced to an older sounding gentleman who said he owned the Chalet that we were going to be staying in. Explaining that since the Government had announced last week that pubs, restaurants and holiday accommodation could open as of July the 4th he was calling to confirm the booking. Ecstatic we chatted for a little while as I learnt that him and his wife were newly semi-retired and had just celebrated their golden wedding anniversary, celebrating earlier in the year with a cruise around the Caribbean, just in time to come back to this mess we call Corona! Asking what time we would like to arrive I asked what would be the earliest as Mr Warehouse and I was hoping to travel down in the wee-small hours of Sunday ready to make the most of our trip. 

As I waited with bated breath, the Chalet owner explained that this wouldn't be a problem since him and his wife had been living there throughout the COVID19 pandemic but would be moving out as of the Saturday night and with the place ready for us as early as we could get there Sunday morning. Sounded blissful, apart from the nigh-on six-hour drive! Finally we could relax and as I bid the owner a farewell down the telephone (he had to get back to work driving the buses around Cornwall) I couldn't contain how excited I was. 

Finally, I can now visit Bodmin Jail (since we couldn't do that on our last trip), maybe a visit to Lands End and 100% going back to the horse riding place for a gallop across the sands. To think that my little Frankenstein has never experienced sand in between his little webbed toe-beans (feet/paws). I suppose its the best of both worlds - One didn't want a holiday, the other wanted a normal beach abroad holibob - A happy compromise, something we will have to learn as a newly married couple .. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

New Year - Newquay!

Hello, 

Sunshine hitting my face and my thighs getting warm. Oh, how I missed the feeling of the beach and summer holidays. Normally I would be gearing myself right up for eating out every night, romantic boat trips and cocktail hour all hours, however, this year Mr Warehouse put his foot down and said we would not be going on holiday this year with his words being "we have a wedding to pay for" and whilst this is true, with less than nine months to go I really wanted to beach it up somewhere and enjoy the last holiday on my Passport as a 'Miss'. 

So with Mr Warehouse not wanting a holiday at all and me craving something remotely similar to Malaga (minus the skin cancer-inducing sunburn) I knew he wouldn't be able to resist me mentioning a holiday to Cornwall. One of his favourite places, we hadn't been back to Newquay since a family wedding several years ago and both of us had missed it ever since. The following year after visiting for said wedding, our Older pooch got poorly with her Pyometra and we promised her as we went to Vet appointment after Vet appointment that we would take her there one day to feel the sand between her paws. Now whilst she has since been to Great Yarmouth and Bournemouth on little holibobs, Newquay holds something special for Mr Warehouse and I both, something we want to share with our fur babies. 

With little resistance, I convinced Mr Warehouse to book off a week and head down to the English Riviera. After much hunting and scouring the web for the best deal, I found the perfect pre-wedding-moon! Boasting a bar and free WiFi, Retallack Resort & Spa was situated in Padstow, just 10 miles from Newquay's beautiful beaches. There is a restaurant serving British cuisine, and free private parking is available. All units at the Spa Hotel Resort came overlooking the gorgeous lakes and grounds and each boasts a kitchen with plenty of amenities including microwave and tea and coffee making facilities. A private bathroom boasts complimentary toiletries and a luxurious soft bed. The seating area and a flat-screen TV are also appreciated by guests staying not to mention the fact that doggies can come too! However, at close to £300 the £40 per dog per stay was a little too steep and instead, we decided to park that property for another visit, choosing to spend a little on a cheap break away and enjoy our Honeymoon more. If only it wasn't a four-odd hour journey that would have been the ideal and perfect place to wake up as a newly-wed. Oh well, I am sure I can make an excuse to make a trip down that way for a stay. 

And so Mr Warehouse and I settled with a stay at the Ladyevelyn situated at the heart of the Newquay Bay Resort. Just two miles from Newquay this peaceful holiday park is set in a peaceful valley, amongst the surrounding countryside, allowing us as guests to enjoy the best of both worlds. The Newquay Bay can cater to all of our needs with fantastic facilities including bar, heated indoor and outdoor pools, sauna and steam rooms and excellent entertainment. 

Less than a mile to the nearest beach (Porth Beach) our holiday chalet, Ladyevelyn, offers accommodation with WiFi, private parking and puppies can come - Free. Of. Charge. Each static caravan has a fully equipped kitchen with a microwave, a fireplace, a seating area with a sofa, a flat-screen TV and a private bathroom with a shower and a hairdryer. A fridge, an oven and stovetop are also offered, as well as a kettle and a coffee machine. A bicycle rental service is available at the reception and with more beaches to explore including Lusty Glaze and Tolcarne Beach within a few minutes it isn't hard to see why we chose it. 

Finally, I can now visit Bodmin Jail (since we couldn't do that on our last trip), maybe a visit to Lands End and 100% visiting the horse riding place to go galloping across the sands. To think that my little Frankenstein has never experienced sand is going to be entertaining and sweet to watch as well.

The best of both worlds I suppose. One didn't want a holiday, the other wanted a normal beach abroad holibob - A happy medium being a few days in Cornwall, visiting family, eating and drinking out, maybe a sesh and some lovely walks on the beach with our pooches. What could be better?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Little Puppers All Grown Up!

Heyy, 

Lounging on the sofa at Momma Warehouse's house that she shares with her boyfriend, it was like being a kid again and coming back home (I imagine haha). Coffee was made for you and barely mentioning the fact you liked the coffee percolator earned me one that they had hidden in the backroom somewhere. Roast dinner to follow with heaps of food and pudding to drown in. This was living the life right? 

And so as the conversation turned to wedding stuff, dresses, outfits and hen-do's, I happened to be constantly distracted by my little bundle of fluff. In less than a month Frankenstein would soon be a year old and as he rough-and-tumbled with his sister, a short-haired double of him and looking more like a Dachshund than a Jackapoo, I knew that getting him was one of the best things in life. 

I will never forget that Tuesday evening, as Mr. Warehouse and I had prepared ourselves for bed with our eldest Pooch as we normally did, turning off the telly, closing down the lights and going into lock down making sure all doors and windows were shut. It was about quarter to ten at night when the phone rang. I looked at Mr. Warehouse as I showed him the caller ID. It was his Mom, my future mother-in-law. Worried I answered and before she even had a chance to explain I promptly told her that this was about the time that people call in the night when someone has died. 

"Do you want to see some puppies?" she said simply and calmly like some sort of child molester. I mean, of course I did. Immediately hitting redial to facetime her. No sooner had she accepted the call I saw a bundle of fluffiness. A little white girl with patches of brown and black splodging her body, another smooth black and tan puppy and a third wirey black and tan fur baby. Instantly I start freaking out. 

"I am being serious" my future mother-in-law continued, stern "We're leaving in five minutes and were taking one of the girls so which one do you want?" 

Suddenly everything seemed real and I focused my twilight mind from puppies and cute faces on a screen. Like a child to her parents, I turned to my beloved fiance and pleaded with him to let me get one. After a few pushes, he seemed to give in reluctantly knowing I would probably do whatever I would want regardless of what he had to say. After further talks, we discovered that it was a friend of a friend who used to breed toy poodles who gave it up to look after her sick husband at home who was rapidly deteriorating into dementia. Unfortunately one night back in early December the Husband had let the breeding stud in with the family pet, a Jack Russell terrier and she fell pregnant. several months later and around Valentine's day a surprise, or nine, were delivered. The lady herself knew nothing about it as she had been so busy with Christmas, New Year and looking after her husband and home she had neglected to notice her dog's belly growing. 


With the unexpected litter now twelve-weeks old they were already a month passed being legally allowed to leave their mother and so she took the decision to find them homes. One of the first questions I asked my future mother-in-law was how much. Bearing in mind that the Toy Poodle / Jack Russell mix would already be a popular choice for families as they are intelligent, active little things, small enough to be around kids and hypoallergenic so great for allergy sufferers. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The reason being is that not only was it a terrible accident because her poorly husband had not known that they no longer bred dogs, but also that as a result of this expenses had already been stretched by extra food and what not. The added vaccinations, chipping, insurance and everything else that normally comes with a new puppy would have financially not been possible for the poor lady and her husband and so she wanted to give them away to families that would love and care for them as she had, making sure they were their forever homes. 

Within a few days there I was, gazing out of the window at the setting sun. I had been waiting all day for this moment. Truth be told, I had been waiting for this moment for pretty much my whole life since being a toddler. Seeing the blue rickety old van pull into the street I came running down the stairs, the pit of my stomach flipping nervously as it filled with anxiety and anticipation at what was to come. 

"They're here! They're here!" I squeaked excitedly at Mr. Warehouse as he too peered out the window at the arriving vehicle. 

Opening the door I stood patiently at the front door with the rest of the family, like a mother ready to accept her newborn. Ushering me over to the van I peered in and saw the sweetest little bundle of tuft. Black and tan, with a white belly I scooped him up and took him into his new home. Welcome home our little Frankenstein - An homage to my love of all things spooky, Halloween and macabre. That but also the fact he was made by mistake and pieced together from two different breeds of dog. 

And since that moment we really have been through hell and back. My practise baby has well and truly tested my limits and pushed me to extremes I thought were not possible with a small tiny fluffy. From the early days, it wasn't easy. Mr Warehouse were on the back foot when it came to training after getting Frankenstein at twelve-weeks we had already lost a month of the most crucial period of a young dog's life. Sleepless nights ensued as my Fiance and I tackled the Satanic Separation Anxiety, from yips and howls to barks and cries. But it didn't just stop there as when we went to work we would be constantly worried for the text that would come through from the neighbours, politely asking if we were coming home soon as our little monster was kicking off. 

Nearly a year since he was born I can honestly say it is not for the ill-equipped or the faint-hearted. Puppy ownership is hard. Owning a dog is difficult, but one of the most rewarding things I think I have ever put my time and effort into and I don't know if I could be more in love with my little man if I tried!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Best Christmas Gift of All is Family

Evening one and all, 

2020! Here. It. Is. Finally, the countdown can really begin to our wedding day! Eeek! But first I feel I need to explain as this is not only my first writing of the new decade, but also that it has been some time. Apologies as Christmas and New Years really did take over a little and I went from manic at my desk to my day job being catching up on crap telly and being Mr Warehouse's chauffeur to and from work (Unfortunately he had to work between the Christmas/New Year slump whilst I got it off). That being said I was glad of the break. 

Christmas went well. Or at least as well as to be expected. The evening before, Christmas Eve, was spent with Miss Tweedle-Dee eating fine food and drinking over-priced red wine. I had hoped that maybe Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb would have been over before this point that they could have shared however this was not the case and at that precise moment were probably boarding said plane from L.A. to make the long journey back home. Nevertheless, Mr Warehouse and I were spoilt with gifts of chocolate and smellies and other treats, but the best thing was the experience vouchers she bought for us; Mr Warehouse's was an "Escape Room" experience to test our teamwork and nerves, and mine was a "Pig Petting Day". Looking on the website, Kew Little Pigs, I can tell already this is right up my street and I am ecstatic Miss Tweedle-Dee bought it for me! 

The website describes the Piggy Pet and Playday as a chance to meet a bunch of lovable new friends at Kew Little Pigs. "Discover a piggy paradise inside the petting pen for an hour and a half of fun, where you’ll meet the pigs by name, pet and play with them, and give them a good groom. The miniature pigs come in all shapes and sizes, each with their own unique personality, so guaranteed you’ll meet some real characters. Selfie seekers are always welcome, as the pigs love the spotlight and know exactly how to strike a pose!" Heading home I slipped into some new Pyjama's and desperately tried to stay awake to watch Elf - Our family Christmas movie, but with everyone cuddled up on the sofa, I could barely keep my eyes open. Heading to bed I snuggled into my plush Teddy Bear duvet set and drifted off to sleep. 

Christmas Day started well, gifts and presents from Mr Warehouse and I to our beloved animals, Frankenstein not quite understanding what was going on and our older one knowing exactly what was happening and where all the treats were! Mr Warehouse had bought some beautiful jewellery sets, earrings and necklaces as well as many a bath bomb (forever on my Christmas and Birthday Wish lists) as well as some more practical items such as salt and pepper shakers and make-up removal pads. Although I cannot be surprised when we did the Poundland Christmas Challenge. You take £10.00, visit your local Poundland (or discount retailer) and attempt to fill a stocking, in this instance for our better halves. It was such fun when doing it the weekend before Christmas, running around and hiding from each other whilst trying to sneakily hide so as not to get caught. What did I get Mr Warehouse you ask? Well, I thought that the replacement Stanley knife blades (mainly for his work), giant gummy cola bottle and water bottle all went down well as odd but appreciated presents. I think even when we have children, a big house and money is tight, I would like to always have this as our little thing we do every year. 

Following our fun, we packed up the car and headed over to my (future) brother-and-sister-in-laws house for presents with the kids, one niece and two nephews! Just as we finished unwrapping their generous gifts of more chocolate, alcohol and smellies Mr Warehouse's older brother and his wife arrived with their son and we continued the festivities until lunch. making a move we promised to see them again tomorrow and made our way to Nanny Pumpkins where the whole family was waiting for us. My Uncle from Ireland was over and so was my other uncle which was nice and my cousins were hyper full of chocolate and sugar no doubt being Christmas. Dad was on Dinner duties and Nanny was relaxing with my Auntie and a glass (or two) nattering away. Coming into the chaos I was glad to have made the decision I had to be involved this year as I was not in the best place last year. 

Just before we sat down to the feast we handed out our gifts and took receipt of mine and Mr Warehouse's appreciatively including a Chocolate Afternoon Tea experience, a meal out voucher, books, gaming gear (For the fiance) and other goodies. I noted though that Dad was quiet. After a difficult year for both of us and without going into too much detail, I wondered if I would have ever spent a Christmas with him again. I saw he was getting emotional and I knew what gift had put him there. I had thought many weeks ago about what final present I could get him when I came up with a good idea for a photo book containing as many pictures and photos of myself and my brother as possible. I knew it would cause some emotion to stir up and assumed that he would know what it was as soon as he opened it and just shuffle it away, but he didn't. He opened it and with that opened himself and started to weep in front of the family, something he was not able to do easily. I knew it was a good gift and wiping away the tears, his look told me that too.

Following dinner and pudding and games, people started to drift home, although not wanting to Mary Celeste my Nanny completely Mr Warehouse, the doggo's and I stayed for a little, chatting softly to my Nan as my Uncle dozed in the next room. It was at that point that I completely forgot about our present from our Wedding Photographer - Sophie Ann! A few days ago we had received a really sweet Christmas card from her, explaining that this was indeed my last Christmas as a Miss and that she looked forward to working with us in the new year. In there also was a raffle ticket that won a special Christmas present! We were number 37. But wait where was the raffle ticket. I panicked. Did it get thrown our with the wrapping paper rubbish? Was it tossed away? Oh god no! Searching I found it in the bottom of a gift bag and proceeded to Social Media to hunt for the big reveal. There it was for all to see. Selected number? 37! WE WON! Mr Warehouse had won a free engagement photo shoot and a chance to meet our photographer and chat before the big day. Uhhh what a weight off our mind! This truly had been one of the best Christmases in a while. No one argued, No one fought, No one drank too much. A classy Christmas all round. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Pups first visit to see Santa-Paws

Bonjourno!

Ohh how I wish I was going anywhere where the language is anything but English. I. Need. A. Holiday!!! But following the debacle from last week and the costly bill that Clifford, my Fiat 500L, gave me I am certainly not going anywhere sunny or exotic, I think even Newquay would be a stretch. Nevertheless, I have thrown myself into full-blown Christmas Smish-mas mode and that includes visiting the big man. 

Back in September, I was scrolling through my daily emails when I came across one from a local garden centre, quite well known in the area. Not really reading it properly I thought it was regarding my wedding flowers and some ideas or thoughts regarding styling since I had asked them for a quotation. However, this was not the case and on opening it up I discovered the wonders of what the garden centre could offer at this time of year. 

Reading through the email, it explained how Frosts Garden Centre were opening their grotto exclusively for dog lovers! "You and your four-legged friend can enjoy the ultimate Santa experience" I continued reading, enthralled by it all. With a choice of six sessions available the visit was to be jam-packed with photo opportunities and includes mixing your own doggie treats and of course meeting Santa! As if that wasn't enough, each owner also receives a mince pie as well as a special treat for our canine friends too! 

Wasting no time like an excited parent I booked the visit and text Mr Warehouse to let him know the good news. Anticipation built and as the day got closer I talked openly with my work colleagues what I would be doing on my morning away from the office. They were surprised and whilst most giggled and laughed, a lot of them would (and have) asked where they can get tickets. 

Arriving on the day, all of us in dressed in Christmas jumpers, we finally found the Grotto after much hunting around the flowers and granny scarves on sale. It honestly looked like a shed, but with our elf waiting outside for us, we skipped up to the front gates and were taken inside the magical winter wonderland created. 

Frankenstein was less than impressed by the penguin animatronics, standing to attention and refusing to let the penguins get me, guarding his Dog Mom from the strangely suited birds. I think I even heard a growl and a yap from his nervous stance. The older one, however, was quietly amused by it all, wagging all the way and probably wondering why we have to come to such a place. But our Pooch loved Christmas and always gets a bit nervy and upset when the decorations come down in January. 

Snapping away some blurred pictures of our nine-month-old pup we skipped through the frozen landscape and into the Elves workshop. Here we got to pick and choose a doggy bag quite literally, selecting some treats and biscuits for our little fur babies. Safely squirrelled away we were guided by our Elf through to Santa's sitting room, a full log burning fire awaiting us to warm our toes and even a mince pie for Dog Mom over here (Diet going right out the window)! Standing by the huge Christmas Tree, perfectly lit in lights and beautiful decorations we had some family pictures, smiling for the camera. 

Just as we were about to finish the big man himself arrived. Welcoming himself to us and our pups, he was short for a Santa, however, the awe we were in was palpable. Never had I ever thought I would be this excited to see Father Christmas, and yet here I was, my baby pup and big pup, both ready to have their picture taken for our family Christmas Cards. Posing was difficult enough though and trying to get us all to smile at the camera and not wink or blink or sneeze or turn away was a chore in itself, and that was us human's. Holding Frankenstein in my arms I was certain that was a memory to cherish forever and ever, and, after receiving a gift from Mr Claus himself, Mr Warehouse and I continued our walk through the Reindeer forest and into the gift shop to look at our photos. Choosing one, we purchased a copy and looked forward to sending out the memories with family. 

Would we do it again? Probably not, unless we knew it was maybe oldies last Christmas, but even then I think I would want to try somewhere else. At £9.99 for one owner and dog (plus £1.99 per additional owner and £6.99 per additional dog), it wasn't cheap, combining with the £7.50 per photo not to mention multiple other gift options available and it could turn into an expensive morning out. However, I cannot fault the staff and how special they made it for our first Christmas as a paw-some foursome, although I would say that Frosts Garden Centre could make it a little easier to find Santa's Grotto as it was rather difficult to locate (as could be expected) and therefore we were running slightly late to our appointment and therefore whilst not rushed along, felt as though we needed to speed up our experience. All in all, though I certainly cannot wait until next year and our next photo opportunity. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Let Sleeping Dogs Lye

Hello, 

So I now have a nine-month-old ... Puppy that is.  It has only been in the last few weeks that I have really appreciated the fact that whilst our (OK my) little Frankenstein is pretty much a teenager, he is still a baby really. 

Puppy ownership has really been a handful from the early days of limited sleep and constant cuddles to monthly flea, worm and tick treatment at the Vets and even a big decision as to snip or not to snip which I wrote about in the blog post where I told of "The Day Frankenstein Got His Stitches" it certainly has been an adventure. Ever since I knew I was going to have a little boy, I knew that I would have to face this question and I think in hindsight it was the best for him as has both calmed him down (at least a tiny bit) and taken a fair amount of testosterone out of his system which could have made him aggressive and not pleasant to be around. 

One of the things I think both Mr Warehouse and I struggled with though was the early mornings. Frankenstein simply couldn't sleep in and refused to let us do the same. we could have been up until 4-in-the-morning and still, the pup would have woken at 6am. Frustratingly, even as he got older he never grew out of it. One minute I was dreamily gazing out of the window at the setting sun awaiting my new fluffy arrival and the next I was sat listening to him cry and winge as we try and attempt one of the hardest things about puppy ownership - Training. In his first few weeks (which then stretched into months) our little Frankenstein (made by mistake and pieced together from two different breeds of dog - Jack Russell Terrier and Toy Poodle) has been somewhat of a little horror. I was not sure in the beginning of it was just a new environment or that he missed his mom and siblings or if it was separation anxiety but I knew that whilst his time alone is arduous, I look at other owners we know and what some of their animals get up to and I am glad we don't have it that bad! 

A quick Google of Dog Separation Anxiety come up with hundreds of helpful pages with useful tips, tricks and hints on how to have a happier pup! One website, in particular, I have referenced for a bit of help has been PetMD which was helpful however didn't allow us any more sleep or lay-ins than before.  With time ticking on we attempted the whole night time routine over and over and over again but nothing seemed to work. That was until Halloween!

With Miss JoHo and Miss Tweedle-Dee staying in the spare room and me tucked up in bed with "The Bowl" by my bedside, Mr Warehouse had little choice but to have the dogs sleep in with us for the night, somewhere he could keep an eye on me and them. It also meant our friends wouldn't be disturbed by puppies early morning war cries. However, the following day, after the decorations had gone away and our heads had been nursed, I noted to Mr Warehouse that our puppy seemed less needy and "into us" than before. Mr Warehouse had suggested that because he had slept in with us the night before, maybe he didn't feel like he needed our attention all-day long. It was a fair point and pup even seemed to listen more, being more receptive to commands and training. So when it became time for bed that night I suggested just letting him choose where to sleep, leaving the door open to his crate downstairs and leaving the hallway and landing free to roam, we let him sleep where ever he liked. And it seemed to work. 

Looking online, you can find loads of information that is both negative and positive when talking about co-sleeping with your dog but from what I have read and also talked to fellow dog-moms and dog-dads is that this can also ease anxiety, providing a feeling of safety and security, especially for smaller dogs or lap breeds. One blog I came across describes that when it comes to sleeping with your dog, there are many benefits to sharing your sleeping space and that by allowing them to sleep on your bed has a different meaning for you and your fur-baby. For you, it can be a way to snuggle. For your dog, it’s an important bonding experience, something which I never really thought about before. 

Not for me (as I have my stunning Fiance by my bedside) however for some people having their pup sleep alongside them helps not only with the dog feeling secure, but also the person themselves, especially if they live alone or have nightmares. If there are any noises or disturbances, your pup can always alert you first and maybe even protect you should the moment come to it. Plus, having a furry friend to share the sheets with can always be comforting when the nights get cooler. 

One of the other things that Furbo.com's "12 Benefits of sleeping with your dog" is that when your dog sleeps in your bed, separation anxiety they feel during the day is soothed. If you work long hours, being able to share time at night can help you support your dog and make them feel less distressed. This is again something which up until writing this now I hadn't correlated the two - him having my attention and closeness at night and not needing it throughout the day and barking excessively. I suppose if you were such a way as well that having your dog alongside you at night could be very calming and have a positive effect on your well-being, mental health and even reduce your own anxiety. Another reason in the pro-sleepover camp is that if you suffer from insomnia it can help, although if it is my dogs, older one included, then maybe not as they just see you laying there asleep as a human trampoline. 

This being said the website doesn't come with its own caveat and warns that while there are many benefits to sleeping in the same bed as your dog, there are also some disadvantages. If your dog isn't fully trained, you don't want a situation where accidents happen. In addition, if you have allergies or a new dog, you may want to proceed with caution. Another website I stumbled across was Tuck.com, who went through some of the risks carried when sleeping with a small and furry bed-fellow. They explain that "Even if you’re not allergic to your pet, they spend more time outside interacting with things us humans take care to avoid, which could otherwise interfere with your health." 

Let's face it, pets aren’t exactly clean, but if you keep your pet up to date on vaccinations and flea medication and they’re otherwise healthy, you should be fine to sleep with them. However, the website does warn you that sharing a bed with your pet can be as dangerous as face licking or kissing for transmission of zoonotic diseases, including plague, meningitis, and parasites. Now, of course, this is very rare, but if you’ve been bitten by fleas or have broken skin, and your dogs are infested, your risk is higher. 

Obviously, it goes without saying that spending time together in a quiet setting like the bedroom, away from hustle and bustle and distractions it helps you get closer to one another. Dogs are pack animals and will often sleep together in a puppy pile when they can, so why not try it with your pooch. Of course each to their own, however, if you could put up with a few moments of restlessness or the odd night of broken sleep and you can maintain the intimacy and connection as a couple (if you are one - sorry Singletons) then go for it. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Toddler to Teen and Everything Inbetween

Hey, 

Another Friday and another trip to the vets. This time was for our monthly flea, worm and tick treatment for Frankenstein. I was glad for this occasion though as we were able to have a consultation regarding my fur-babies growth. 

Ever since I knew I was going to have a little boy, I knew that I would have to face this question. Shall I stud him out like some sort of doggo pimp? Or protect his innocence and get him castrated? Neutering means surgically preventing pets from reproducing and in males, the operation is called castration. With castration, both testicles are removed which takes away the main source of the male hormone testosterone. The operation is carried out under general anaesthetic and whilst every surgical procedure has some risk, modern techniques are very safe and help to make the whole thing as quick and easy as possible. Because it involves surgery, there will be some discomfort but with modern pain control, most dogs are up and about just a few hours after they’ve had their operation. 

Whilst it is possible to get injections and tablets to prevent my little Frankenstein from breeding, these need repeating regularly and there is some risk of side effects as well as the added on ongoing cost. This was something I considered however this seems a pointless exercise when I have no real breeding or stud plan and would only really doing it ad-hoc and when we needed money. 

From Frankenstein's humble beginnings as an accidental litter following a friend of my future mother-in-law (her husband who was rapidly deteriorating into dementia, unfortunately, one night back in early December last year let the breeding stud in with the family pet) my gorgeous little jack russell toy poodle cross was finally coming of age as he reached six-month mark. After being born around Valentine's day, along with his nine other brothers and sisters, our Frankenstein was reaching his sexual maturity and the conversation needed to be had regarding being left fully "intact" or to get him the snip. 

I had a look at a lot of online forums, websites and even chatted with a few friends and colleagues who had to make dogs. Most of them, including the vet, nurse and puppy class trainer has said that essentially it would be unfair to let him have a taste and then deny him that again, especially if I did not plan to stud regularly or as a permanent fixture in his life. A great website in the UK for the charity Blue Cross had some helpful advice that helped me in making my decision. "There are lots of health, behavioural and social reasons why neutering your dog can be a good idea and for female dogs in particular, but neutering is not right for every dog but the fact that castration significantly reduces the chance of males getting prostate disease and reduces the risk of some cancers not to mention it can have a beneficial effect on behaviour."  Blue Cross advises owners. Obviously, as an owner, there are many benefits as an unneutered dog is much more likely to direct their amorous intentions towards your favourite sofa; Or your visiting auntie. It is for this reason and the fact I don't really have a clue or plan in place that it would be unfair to let Frankie have a taste and to then take it away, probably causing more issues in the long run. 

With this decision made and I suppose as a way of celebrating my little boys coming of age and moving from his toddler months into teenage-hood, I did what any good mom would do and take him for his first haircut. Starting our day well I had breakfast and shared my coffee with the little hairball before popping on some trainers and buckling him into the front seat of Clifford, my big red car. Sitting on my passenger seat and trundling through the country roads into Bedford Town Centre I looked down to the bundle of cuteness. Fluffy yet bedraggled and scruffy, like one of those typical skater boys your momma told you not to hang around with. 

Pulling up and into the groomers, we walked in, skipping all the way. As I left empty-handed though I felt a little lost and as though I had missed something. I occupied myself by heading to a local charity shop and picking up a Disney babygrow for his operation in a few weeks time. As I were to cut a hole for his tail it would be perfect to protect his stitches from chewing and nibbling, and a darn sight cheaper than the fifteen-quid one the vet tried to flog me. 

Picking him up from the groomers he smelt so fresh and cuddly, fluffy and soft as rabbit fur. A combination of puppy and baby powder he smelt like a dream! Paying the lady, Frankie and I headed back to the car but not before picking up a few treats for the good boy. As we drove the short distance down to Bedford town centre to walk along the river and meet my Dad for lunch I looked down again at the fluffy, powder-smelling pup sat beside me and as a song played on the radio I realised that this, in fact, was the happiest I had been for a while. 

Finishing off our Momma and Puppa day out I was pleased when, after our walk along the river my black and tan Jackapoo with a white belly and old-man facial expressions retired to a posh riverside gastro-pub to meet with my Dad. One of his first questions seemed to resonate with me as I drove home in the summer sun that afternoon. As I looked down to my passenger seat and at Frankenstein's little face he glanced up and looked up at me, his every being dependant on me for all of what he needs I felt a sense of contentment. From this time last year to now was amazing. I was driving my own car after leaving a house I now owned with my fiance who I am due to marry next year with my new puppy beside me. This was everything I ever wanted and more. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

One year and a whole lot of change

Hello, 

As a child, I always found it incredibly boring walking around hardware stores, accompanying my parents on an arduous task to find all of the instruments they needed for their DIY Project. Whether it was kitchen tiles or flooring or new wardrobes I would always become irritable and bored out of my brain. And so I always reverted to what was much more fun normally annoying and pissing off my little brother, chasing him around the aisles or throwing soft furnishings at him. Obviously, this would annoy my parents no end and therefore turn into a massive family argument, normally ending with one of us sat in the car by ourselves as punishment. However, on the odd occasion, we were good walking around the store our parents would buy us ice cream from the van situated perfectly between the car park and the exit doors of the DIY store. 

Despite me now being twenty-seven I disregarded the fact that I should be an adult and walk past said ice cream van with little regard for him or his menu. Instead opted for the biggest ice-cream I could find on the board with extra flake sprinkles and source something my parents would have never allowed and disregarded for a lolly or cheaper ice cream. But fuck that. I am closer to thirty than ever before and after my first DIY shop I feel I deserve a treat. 

Mr Warehouse and I had just been shopping for our first decorating job in our new home. Our weekend plans had not started as such and had originally been reserved for making the "Save The Dates" we needed for our wedding which we were meant to be handing out this coming weekend at the annual family gathering the Warehouse's host. But alas I left all of my shit at work including my backup hard drive with all the documents on and since I have not backed them up on my home tablet stupidly I had no other plans. 

With this in mind, Mr Warehouse suggested some DIY and maybe making a start on painting and decorating our hallway or living room. And so we found ourselves in the middle of B&Q searching out wallpaper and paint. However, since we are on a budget we thought it best to use the paint we were given a year ago to do up our flat.  Mr Warehouse and I have been lucky to have friends and family as well as a few work colleagues who have donated different tins and buckets of paint and after a few mid-week paint swatches in several different shades from browns to greens to blues, greens and greys we settled on some good pairings. After settling on what type of colours we wanted in the living room we have decided to opt for a neutral palette for the hallway settling on a Dulux "Cookie Crumble" (a kind of milky coffee colour) and  Homebase "Vanilla Rose" (basically Magnolia). 

As I found myself wandering around B&Q on Saturday afternoon, I thought about the article I had read only the evening before from Huffington Post, "What Happens At 27 That Forces People To Grow Up?" Its a great article and I highly recommend it. I remember the article detailing how being twenty-six and being twenty-seven are very different and I agree. At Twenty-Six it is expected that you’re not going to have your shit together, but it’s cool if you do. Its also not expected to be in a relationship, but also totally normal if you are getting married. At Twenty-Six it is close to being Twenty-Five enough that you can get away with falling out of the club blackout drunk and stumbling home with a Subway in one hand and your heels in the other. At Twenty-Seven, this is not wholly acceptable.

At Twenty-Seven I feel as though I have it together OK. Probably could do with some improvements, a little bit here and a little less there but altogether I think I have it together. I have a house. I have a new puppy (kinda) and my original pooch. I have a fiance. I get married next year and I have a good job. I think I have a good grip on life. Yeah I might get drunk at kids parties (circa just last week) and I may indeed forget my shit all the time, but you give me an afternoon, some paint and my Bae and we have a brand new hallway. Now granted some of the ceiling, has paint on it. Some of the carpet, has paint on it. Some of the other walls have paint on it. But with a little bit of touching up it will be like it was done by a professional. Sort of. Nevertheless, I am happy with my half-arsed plan. I now have a modern and more spacious feeling hallway and whilst Mr Warehouse and I will more likely than not need to send our "Save The Dates"  by post, I have made a start on the redecorating of our new home. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Doggo Dreams

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

To Crate or not to Crate?!

Hello, 

Another Bank Holiday weekend rolls round and I can hardly believe that it is June already next week. Since the rigmarole of last weeks puppy trauma through bedtime routines and trying to keep our little Frankenstein happy in his own company I can now safely say that I sit on my bed, writing to you all in peace and harmony,. No sitting here listening to him cry and winge as we wonder what else we can do to try and settle him and make his night-time easier. Nothing. Nadda. Our secret?! 

Not that I would like to admit it but unfortunately we have had to crate him. I never really wanted to and could not see any rhyme or reason to doing it as many people, including myself, hate the idea of and even refuse to crate or kennel-train their dogs because I suppose at least I feel that the confinement is cruel. However, I have learnt that a crate or kennel can give dogs a sense of security and if done properly is also a highly effective management system that can be a lifesaver for dog owners. 

If used effectively, a crate for appropriate time periods is helpful with a variety of important goals, including house training, preventing destructive behavior, and teaching a dog to settle and relax. I had spoken to friends and colleagues, I found out that if a dog is taught through positive reinforcement to love the crate, the crate becomes his own private and safe place, much like a bedroom for a child. The crate or kennel is somewhere the dog can go and not be bothered; it's a perfect destination when the dog is tired or nervous. Dogs have a natural instinct to be in a den and many dogs take to a crate very easily but also teaches puppies and excitable dogs to expect and enjoy some down time, and conditions calm behavior. Crate training also provides a number of benefits to owners as well as a crate that is sized properly encourages a dog's instinct not to mess where he sleeps, helping to teach the dog bladder and bowel control. A work colleague suggested using a crate to stop him getting into trouble when Mr Warehouse and I can't supervise directly especially at night but also when we are at work or busy cooking. Whilst everything was and is good during the day, nighttime was the worst and after last Tuesday evening I was certainly not taking any more chances with our house as it were. 

Tucking him in and making him feel as comfortable as possible I came upstairs to meet Mr Warehouse in our bedroom. Following another hard day in the office with constant spreadsheets and updates and phone calls to make I was pleased to see a comfy bed, a smiling face and our favorite TV show ready to go on the box. Settling into the comfy warm sheets we pressed play and forgot a little bit about the screaming puppy downstairs. However, twenty-minutes later after the show had finished and the credits began to roll IMr Warehouse decided to go down and check on him. 

Laying in bed I heard as he opened the door to our lounge and expected a greeting of whimpers and yelps. Instead all I heard was shouting and distress calls from Mr Warehouse to come downstairs. On jumping out of bed myself and the older pooch (who had been sleeping in our room since our puppy arrived) trundled downstairs. Step by Step I wondered what it might be probably poo or maybe a wee in the corner. But as I turned to walk down our hallway and into the living room I saw what the yelling was about. There at the foot of the doorway leading into the lounge I saw concrete. On top of the concrete base some colourful underlay finishing it all off was our frayed, chewed up and spit out cream carpet. I was devastated. What on earth will the neighbours think for even worse what would our friends and family think when they come round. They will think that we are bad dog parents. They will think that our little pup is a fucking arsehole. I mean obviously he is as anyone who is able to destroy something like that in the space of twenty-minutes is not very well behaved. 

The following day I crumbled and after much persuasion from Mr Warehouse I went out and bought a crate for our little Frankie. As before, I never really wanted to as I only thought of it as being a crappy way of dog parenting and only shutting them away when you were not bothered to look after them. However after more research from friends and colleagues, I have been assured that it is the best thing for not just myself and Mr Warehouse but also for our home and puppy himself. Turning to the interwebs, Cuddles.com offers some words of wisdom and even some helpful advice to stop this from happening again. Dogs of all ages can take a liking to carpeting and concentrate on destroying it. The sooner you detect the behavior and do something to stop it, the better. Covering the spot with a piece of furniture and directing your puppy's attention somewhere else are all helpful hints and tips that he article from Tammy Dray has written on "How to Stop a Dog From Ripping the Carpet". Even spraying the areas he's going after with vinegar could help she says. "As soon as Doggie takes a bite out of the carpet, he'll taste the sourness and take off. If you have very expensive -- or very white -- carpet, you might want to call the manufacturer first to find out if vinegar is safe. You don't want to end up with a huge stain."

So now the hunt is on to try and cover it up as best as possible. Hiding it from everyone and hoping that no-one that reads my blog comes over before we have a chance to fix it. Fixing it though? Well it was always something we were going to change given half a chance and following a deep spring clean we realized that it probably needs to be sooner than later. Looking into the paperwork though you would have not thought it would have been as difficult as it has been for all of the information is there. The flooring type, colour, make, model, even the manufacturer. However after numerous emails and probably many more replies I am only finding people that are able to sell it to us. Unfortunately, what I am a genius at most things floor fitting is not my forte Besides, I think with "The Destructor" in the building we will certainly need a professionals touch! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx