CK and I have been sharing a few philosophical discussions recently. You know, him sitting on his couch staring intently at every channel for five seconds as he channel-surfs through all 40+ stations, me on mine knitting, frogging, stitching, ripping out, cursing.... normal family evening. And one of us will casually throw a topic for comment out into the air.
Usually it kind of floats for a bit then sinks under the apathy which coats the room but just recently.... just recently it has been saved from crash landing at the last minute because it strikes a chord with both of us. Our lives are about to change.
I mean really change.
I phoned the nice puppy woman last Friday to see if we may go and visit Isabell this half term week. Having waited for this pup since the end of November Pr. C-W was just about fit to burst given that collection day was less than two weeks away and we figured a visit may just lessen the tension somewhat.
She sounded almost taken aback to hear from us and hemmed and hawed for a few seconds while issuing hissed commands to someone (something) off to one side. It seems we were very welcome to come and visit but by chance one of the other new owners was taking their pup home the coming Friday and while she didn't want to force an issue we were also very welcome to come and collect Isabell a week early. More muttering, hissing and whispering.
The longer this conversation went on the more clear it became that poor old nice puppy woman was in a slight state of shock as the reality of having nine dogs in her house was becoming clear. Was it mean to giggle?
So tonight is our last night sans puppy and both CK and I are revelling in the whole 'dogs who do what they are told thing'. I suppose it will return again one day.