…who started it all.
He’s my cousin Vivien’s dog, Spice. He was originally called Brice and left to roam outside all day until they rehomed him aged 7 months. Spice is the most innocuous dog ever in the history of the world and at the very bottom of the pecking order of all dogdom. Vivien was telling me today how he came to her wild and untrained and mounting everything, so her vet advised her to have him castrated as soon as possible.
While this, and probably being in a home with a family, helped the puppy’s behaviour, it’s sadly made him a sitting target for all dogs to mount. I have heard that castrated chocolate labradors must smell of available female (or irresistible mounting cushion) to other dogs. I thought it was just Oscar who did this to him every time they met. On our walk today, however, it would appear that all our townie dogs, large and small, castrated, entire, female, wanted to have a go at our friendly country bumpkin.
Spicy was about a year old when I first met him. He came up and jumped all over me in a friendly puppy way. I did not grow up with dogs and knew nothing about them but the way Spicy sat empathetically watching over the flu-addled, 7 year old MsDD and keeping her company made me realise exactly why they are called Man’s Best Friend. I began to crave this sort of devotion and, two years later, we found Oscar. Had there been no Spice, there would have been no Oscar. Thanks mate!
Romanesco cauliflowers are a true work of art, aren’t they? Whenever I receive one in my veg box, I’m always struck by their beauty. I’m never quite sure whether they have been bred to look like this or whether the fractals are purely natural.
We had a contractors’ meeting with our architect and builder this evening so I made cauliflower and pasta cheese for supper, which was, of course, ready and on the table at exactly the right time for the OH to come in from work, 15 minutes before the meeting. Sadly I needn’t have bothered as by the time he had changed into his jeans, the builder had arrived and so most of his carefully-prepared meal has gone to waste for a second evening running.
This utterly drives me mad: either yoga on Mondays or band on Tuesdays require a 10 minute turnaround of supper which I find especially stressful on Tuesdays when I have to take MsDD to ballet at 7 and go and pick her up at 8. But I manage it. The food is inevitably only half eaten as he runs out of time, though. Grrr.
Happily, though, we managed to clear up a lot of outstanding stuff related to our kitchen extension tonight in our value engineering exercise, and we’ve agreed a START DATE! How exciting!