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

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

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

Satanic Separation Anxiety

Heyy, 

Last week I was dreamily gazing out of the window at the setting sun awaiting my new arrival and now I sit here and listen to him cry and winge as we try and attempt one of the hardest things about puppy ownership - Training. 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 this week in terms of separation anxiety. Whilst his time alone is arduous, to say the least, I look at other owners we know and their animals as 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. Their article on "Five Steps to Preventing Dog Separation Anxiety" has some really great information that I think would be helpful for all levels of Dog momma out there. 

Separation Anxiety can show itself in animals and in humans, however, for man's best friend this could develop if left into a psychological disorder of hyper attachment that manifests as barking, crying, urination, defecation, and other destructive signs when the dog is left alone in the house.

Veterinary behaviourist Lisa Radosta from PetMD recommend to ignore and not pay attention to your dog when he follows you or your family around the house. "Many attention-seeking behaviours, including dog and puppy separation anxiety, can simply be corrected by ignoring them." 
I have done this pretty much from day dot, just simply because I want to get in through the door, put down the bags of shopping or kick off my shoes and down my laptop bag before even saying hello to the animals, Mr. Warehouse is exempt from this of course!

The article continues with "hiding all departure cues from your dog so that he or she can’t begin to associate them with your departure". 
This is difficult as for us it is not leaving the house that seems to be an issue, although we haven't yet heard any complaints from the neighbours, but itis night time and the routine surrounding that my fiance and I find difficult. Everything seems fine, up until we leave the lounge and leave him with his blankets, toys, chewy things and play stuff. You would think he would be entertained but our little Frank just isn't happy when it comes to bedtime! Howling and crying were the first problems, but then, after looking after friends dog's for a few nights last week, he really learned how to use his lungs and has even started scratching at the inner lounge door, which we have tried to train him out of doing, but it is hard. 

Avoiding having a meltdown was another point in the "Five Steps to Preventing Dog Separation Anxiety" from Lisa Radosta at PetMD. Keeping your dog from having a full-blown emotional response is difficult as we are finding. However, the Veterinary behaviourist says that he "should not be following you to the door when you go to leave. Instead, put him in his crate with something really fun to do, well before we are getting ready to leave or go to bed." Coupled with this the article carries on to say that we should, in addition, confine our dog in his crate for 10 to 15 minutes a day when at home. The problem we have with that is that I don't want to crate train Frankie and neither does Mr. Warehouse by the sound of things. They are ugly and space eating but also I am not sure that they actually help, I feel it is the lazy ladies answer to training and only makes for a less family feel of owning a dog. Obviously, I understand it is helpful but whilst crate time can be fun and never used as a punishment, I just feel that for us as a family, not to say that is wrong, it's just not right for us. 

Top Tip we haven't tried yet is the treating method, which, in itself seems pretty counter-productive. Veterinary behaviourist Lisa Radosta from PetMD recommends associating our departure, be it night time or otherwise, with something wonderful, like rare dog treats that he only gets at that time of day. We have however started the task of always asking Frankie to sit before we interact with him and this includes leaving as well. This will hopefully in time set up a predictable, structured relationship between us all and help him to understand how to get attention from us in the best way and by doing things we want him to do like wee's and poo's outside and staying put when told to do so. 

Training other than the whole night time routine seems to be going OK though as he now knows his name and comes back most of the time when called, he knows a little on how to play fetch and catch, knows the command down or no, although little most toddlers and puppies, sometimes selectively hears what he wants to. I am sure we have made the right decision after the hell of the first few nights, but only time will tell how much of a clever little boy we have. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A present from Santa and delivered by Cupid!

Evening, 

To think that this time last week as I wrote to you all and told of how upsetting and worrying it was about Pooch's aural haematoma (similar to a blood blister in humans) which has now thank goodness, cleared up to almost all gone, I had no idea of what would come. 

Luckily unlike most dogs and cats that have an aural haematoma Pup has recovered well and not suffered or been left with a cauliflower ear, crumpled and disfigured from the trauma. However should this happen again, I think that surgery is going to be the only option. However, all that worry seemed to melt away as I waited patiently. 

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. 

You see this all started on Tuesday evening, as Mr. Warehouse and I had prepared ourselves for bed with Pooch as we normally did, turning off the telly, closing down the lights and going into lockdown 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 thought someone had died or had an accident. I thought that you had got engaged or something. God Damn women you scared me half to death" I said. After showing Mr Warehouse and getting close-ups of all the cuteness it was time for some seriousness. 
"I am being serious. 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. 

"I can't make a decision like that I am afraid, as much as I would like to," I said to my excited mother-in-law-to-be. Reluctantly I ended the call and Mr. Warehouse shook his head. We needed to talk about it and I needed to make sure it was the best decision for the family as a whole, not just me and my selfish dreams of being a dog momma to a baby puppy. Talking it over that night and the following day, we called Momma Warehouse back. 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. 

Which leads us up to the moment I started with. 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. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Pink Punters, Pallets and Pooch!

Evening All, 

Following on from last weeks discovery of an aural haematoma in Pooch's ear, something similar to a blood blister in humans, Mr Warehouse and I are in doubt of it getting any better. On talking to the Vet's last week we discovered that it is most commonly found after an ear infection or, as with this case, smacking a soft floppy ear off of something hard. Bursting the blood vessels it has caused a swelling and, unlike humans, dogs and other animals struggle to regulate this natural occurrence and thus rather than the body automatically absorbing the excess blood back into the tissue surrounding the area it creates a pocket that fills up and then starts to process and drain away the fluid into the body. However, this process could take days, weeks or even months in many cases and we discovered after Googling it (I know I told him not to but Mr Warehouse was on it before I came off the phone to the Vets) most dogs and cats are left with a cauliflower ear, crumpled and disfigured from the trauma. However it would appear that since Pup's aural haematoma is not improving and after monitoring for over a week now, I think that surgery is going to be on the cards when we meet the vet again this week. 

However we have still had plenty of cuddles this weekend and with an extra day being a Bank Holiday I was looking forward to spending more time in the garden with her by my side as I read a good book. However as I disappointingly helped Mr Warehouse unload the lorry that had arrived with pallets on board  I realized that maybe the weather was not going to be improving. Now whilst I did not expect it to be as blinding as Easter Bank Holiday with temperatures in the region of 25+ degrees, I thought that the sun would have shone for at least a day or two out of three. I had such high hopes for our bank holiday including spending some quality time together creating a beautiful garden that we could share with friends and family over a barbecue or two throughout the summer. This would to be inclusive of our new adventure in a pallet sofa for the garden, Pinterest Style, and maybe at a stretch a fire pit, although Mr. Warehouse is insistent we are not getting one. 

Nevertheless, after finishing off putting our palates in order starting them against events we decided that the hard work was done with and so we ventured out into the drizzly grey Friday evening to get our fish and chip supper, something I had been looking forward to after being good all week on my new stint at Weight Watchers WW plan and loosing nearly quarter of a stone in a few weeks. Obviously with the count down to the wedding getting closer I was sure that I wanted to buy and wear a dress on my big day that fit nicely and that my weight wouldn't be a hindrance to this. Not that my size has been an issue in the past when trying on wedding gowns, but I just know I would feel more confident and comfortable not only on my big day but also be would be happy looking at the photos sat on my mantelpiece, should I have one, for years to come. 

Since Friday those pallets have stayed in the garden and have yet to be made into our dream garden furniture. It has been far too drizzly and wet and cold to do anything remotely outside. Apart from that is, go out partying to one of the biggest gay clubs in the county, Pink Punters in Bletchley, as I did yesterday evening with Miss Tweedle-Dee. Labeling itself as the fastest growing LGBT venue in the UK, it was what I would call a standard night out on the raz, lots of drink and even a complimentary McDonalds to finish with a side of vomiting into the wee small hours. Although I was impressed with the level of security and also that of the organised parking, drop off and collection system they had, it wasn't what I really expected a gay club to be like. I think that looking around the dance floor there were far more straight heterosexuals than anything of L, G, B, T, Q or Plus. 

Miss Tweedle-Dee agreed and I think that we maybe saw one or two transsexual's, and a over elaborate drag queen who looked incredible. I am not really sure what I expected from one of my first proper gay bar experiences, but maybe I thought it would be as it is in films or what Hollywood portrays, something entirely different than the standard bars and clubs - Playing music from the 90's with special significance to Elton John and Celine Dion, party go-ers wearing PVC and chains and the bars selling poppers. Whilst at least one of them is true, suffice to say that I was proven wrong and that it was like any other club or bar I had frequented before. With birthday requests coming in thick and fast for 18 and 19-year olds I felt like I was someones Mom out on a school night without the kids. The fact that the odd 20 or 21-year old birthday shout out only made it worse and reconfirmed that the 28-year old me want to check myself into a a nursing home right there and then. 

Regardless of all of this though, I enjoyed my night out and my Bank Holiday weekend spent with loved ones. Hopefully I can suffer and battle through the next few days until next weekend where I pray that the weather improves and I can enjoy my Pinterest pallet creation, complete with fire pit! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Family is not about Blood

Hiya, 

Hanging up the phone I was excited for my little Step-Pooch to get her nails clipped at the groomers as she does enjoy day trips out to new places. Always rushing to try and see everything, smell everything and generally be in everything. Always nosey and forever our little star when she goes anywhere with the Vet or Groomer they always tell us how good she is and how lucky we are to have such a well behaved dog. Or maybe that is just what they say to every owner?!

However, as we did our weekly "pretend" vet check where we get her up for cuddles on the sofa and pretend that she has her teeth checked, her eyes, her paws and her ears. But something was wrong. 
"What on earth is this" Mr Warehouse exclaimed as I turned to him he showed me. Not seeing clearly I allowed him to guide my hand over the inflamed sausage-shaped lump in our pup's floppy ear. Shaking us off it was obviously uncomfortable but not sore to the point she cried. I looked at Mr. Warehouse and we wondered if it was something serious. 
"If we need to go to the Vets we should go now," I said panicked as I looked at the time. It was early evening so confident we may get seen that night, so I dialled the number for our local vets. 

Without saying what it may be or telling us an educated diagnosis they seemed concerned and worryingly said that there were no appointments for that evening but instead, could we instead bring her in tomorrow morning, first thing. I agreed and ended the call with little more than being told it was a possible aural haematoma - a solid swelling of clotted blood within the tissues. But with the prospect of a £45.00 fee just to examine her properly, I shuddered at the true cost once medication and extras had been added. 

Wanting to make sure that our Vets were correct, and find a cheaper consultation fee, I called another vet closer to where we have now moved to in the countryside. They explained that yes, similar to a blood blister in humans, that animals can get these too, most commonly after an ear infection or, in this case, smacking a soft floppy ear off of something hard. Bursting the blood vessels and, unlike humans, dogs and other animals struggle to regulate this natural occurrence and thus rather than the body automatically absorbing the excess blood back into the tissue surrounding the area it creates a pocket that fills up and then starts to process and drain away the fluid into the body. However, this process could take days, weeks or even months in many cases and we discovered after Googling it (I know I told him not to but Mr Warehouse was on it before I came off the phone to the Vets) most dogs and cats are left with a cauliflower ear, crumpled and disfigured from the trauma. 

Booking an appointment for Monday we kept an eye on our grumpy pup all weekend and made sure that sausage was not filling up too much. I was concerned that the following morning we would come down to a bloodbath scene with splattering's up the new white carpet and walls following the blister bursting overnight. Thankfully we had nothing of the sorts and instead she was fine if only a little irritable.  And so this evening after work I arrived home and, bundling her into my little Fiat, Clifford, we went round to the new Vets. Pulling into the small car park and walking in, I felt happy with the practice and could see just how much they cared and loved animals from the photos and thank you cards on the walls. 
"This feels like a proper country bumpkin vet's," I said to my fiance, who laughed and made some comment about not being in the 'real' countryside. 

Soon we were called through and looking over her the petite blonde lady took another look at her ear and quizzed us both on our dog's habits and traits. I explained that following our Pyometra scare in February of 2016 she was operated on to save her life and spayed and that other than this she is as healthy and fit as a fiddle. 

The lovely Veterinary nurse said that most likely it was an aural haematoma and that this would be easily fixable. She explained that it’s typically caused by overly aggressive ear scratching or head shaking that resulted from an ear infection. To try and make our fur baby feel better the Vet suggested a drain to draw out the fluid with a needle or syringe under general anaesthetic. A steroid and medication would then be injected into the pocket to reduce swelling, inflammation and to stop it from happening again. However, she also explained that it is very common for an aural haematoma to return and on the next time, we would need surgery.

Going into more detail, The sweet lady said confirmed that a surgical repair is often considered the most effective treatment for ear hematomas. Looking online at vetstreet.com, Mr Warehouse has seen that, along with the Vets advice the surgery will be carried out under anaesthesia and an incision is made along the length of the aural hematoma on the inner surface of the ear. Once the fluid and blood clots are removed, the inner surface of the ear is tacked down to the outer surface of the ear with sutures. The sutures hold the inner and outer surfaces against each other so that when scar tissue forms, the two surfaces are smooth and not lumpy. The sutures generally stay in place for a few weeks while the incision is left open so that fluid will continue to drain as the ear heals. Eventually, the incision will heal on its own.

Taking the lead the kindly nurse took our pooch to have her aural haematoma drained and returned with a rather bloodied dog. Bleeding stemmed,  her fur and coat were smothered with bright red claret. We must have looked worried as the vet went on to explain that whilst she has attempted to drain all of the blood (and apparently there was alot) there may still be a little amount that will continue to come in the next few days, and, coupled with the steroids and medication to prevent it filling again we may have a little spillage here and there. 

Told to keep an eye on it and being given our first lot of ear gel, we booked in for another appointment next week to see how pup gets on. Looking at it now as she sits at the foot of the bed, on a towel and looking sorry for herself, I remind myself about how complacent I can be sometimes, about how we can all be sometimes, when someone we are around all the time becomes ill or poorly and you remember just how much they mean to you and this is no different when it comes to our dog. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx