Why I need a dog

Last night, when I was in the kitchen ironing, Younger Son came in. He told me his friend had found some cheap flights and they were going on holiday in December.

'Oh, that's nice. Where are you going?'

'Amsterdam.'

'Eek, Amsterdam?!'

'Yeah, drink, drugs and prostitutes,' he said, grinning.

'Oh, no, not prostitutes,' I squeaked.

'No, not really, Mum.'

'Art galleries?'

Yeah, Mum, art galleries.'

Then he wandered off, chuckling to himself. My children know how to wind me up.

Later on, having finished my ginormous pile of ironing, I was catching up on my blog-reading, when I heard a strange noise outside the back door. Husband was away and YS was out: I was on my own!

I haven't been in, on my own, without a dog, and with strange noises outside, for years.

Even though, for the last year or so, a burglar could have trodden on his paw and Harvey wouldn't have noticed, it was just reassuring knowing he was there. It was the same if I opened the door to someone I didn't know: I always made Harvey come with me. I'd open the door just enough for the visitor to see him but not enough for him to get out and start licking them enthusiastically.

Where we live isn't secluded exactly but it is on the end of a lane off a road and there aren't many passers-by. I need a dog.

I needed to go outside to lock up the shed so when Husband phoned me later, I made him hang on while I went and locked up. 'That way, if I scream or don't come back, at least you can call the police.'

P.S. We are off to Crete in September; when we come back is puppy time!!!!

P.P.S. Daughter was grumbling about lack of Harvey photos on this blog, so here's one taken a number of years ago on the Isle of Wight. Harvey says, 'Please don't tell anyone I'm with that lot.'

xx