I weakened (sort of)

So having thought I would say no to seeing Bd for one final goodbye my resolve weakened. I didn’t want to look back in years to come and know I didn’t take advantage of spending every moment I could with him. It sounds stupid but I didn’t want to know that in the end I turned down even 5 minutes of time with him. So I told my ex a final goodbye walk would be nice, I wouldn’t take him over night but just spend a final hour cuddling with him, smelling his paws, and trying to embed every moment of Bd in my memory forever.

But we had to have a conversation to organise that, and his holier than thou “I am doing all of this for your own good” attitude got on my wick and so he was preaching about how good for me this was, and how hard on him I snapped and told him exactly what I thought of him.

I told him No, this sudden ban on seeing Bd was nothing to do with me. (Whether his excuse of his new woman being upset I was on the scene is true or not I can’t tell you) but this sudden change of heart now wasn’t anything to do with me. Anyone with half a brain can see I am well over him, getting into her bed 8 weeks after getting out of mine kinda turned off any remaining feelings I may have had. The hurt of what he did to me, that’s still very much with me, but any want to get back with him…. Plus I wasn’t the one manipulating situations so we had to continue to see each other, finding crappy excuses to drop Bd off at mine rather than letting me collect him from the garden, being in the f’in garden and coming out to say hi when I was able to collect Bd from the garden. I was the one who wanted to set up a rota and ideally never speak to each other ever again. I wasn’t the one in the ‘bad place, still hanging on’.

So I called him out and told him that “he had used me and how at least I knew now everything he ever said to me was utter bull.” That was it; no threats, no over reacting just a very measured response.

He went mental and vetoed me saying one final goodbye.

(Which just as a side note, never allowed to see Bd again as you think it was too hard on me but actually you had no problems with me coming round the house, picking him up and having him over night for one final time – who wants to bet he had plans and needed a dog sitter?)

After his little mental outburst I remained calm, and asked his permission to donate to charity the stuff I had for Bd at my house. Might sound silly but I wanted his permission now cause if not I can see him getting in contact in a month and asking where X was, or did I know what had happened to Y. Which is something I am keen to avoid! He responded saying that would be ok, and so I closed the conversation with a “Good Bye” There was nothing else to say. I had only maintained contact so I could see Bd, so I thought Good Bye kinda finished it off.

A few minutes passed then I received from him:

You will probably spit feathers for me saying this but I honestly wish you all the best in your new job and whatever the future brings you”

Did I ever mention I was dating a saint? I don’t know how to break this but I don’t care. I don’t want your good wishes, I want less than nothing to do with you. So I responded with the slightly juvenile, but very much needed

“That’s where you are very much mistaken. I stopped caring or having any reaction to anything you said an awfully long time ago!”

I’ve heard nothing since. I feel strange. There have been tears – so many tears. I miss Bd every second, and I know I will look out for him wherever I go. For the last few days seeing dog walkers out and about has been hell. But I also feel free. I am finally completely out of reach of my ex, no biting my tongue so I can keep seeing Bd, no reasons for him to drop around or manipulate situations so I saw him. I am finally completely and utterly free of that Jack ass – just wish it had been because he had been hit by a car rather than the reason being he took my dog.

Bd and I last year. I am going to miss him soooo much!!
Bd and I last year. I am going to miss him soooo much!!

It’s a No

That is it. The verdict is in and he has told me I am not allowed to see Bd any more.

He has however very kindly offered me one last goodbye, but I don’t think I can. I don’t know how I look into his eyes and know I will never see him again.

So I am going to say no. I don’t know if I will regret not having a final goodbye. But I’m just not strong enough!

You guys have given me a kick up the ass!

My wobble had me self-wallowing. I was back in the woe is me camp, do I want me ex back, how could he leave train of thought and then I opened my blog and saw your comments. I have to admit to the comments not being the comments I wanted. I wanted you all to join me in telling anyone who would listen that I couldn’t possibly let Bd go, that I could get over the ex and keep having Bd in my life, with a few verses of he’s an idiot thrown in for good measure.

You see I had thought being animal lovers you would all side with me about not letting go of Bd. That you would support me in the ‘woe is me’ pity party I am throwing for myself. Hell, I hoped some of you would even provide food and drink.

However you didn’t. You were completely honest and forced me to admit that if I want to keep Bd in my life I am going to have to prove people wrong. I have to stand firm, against the crowd in my belief that I can do this and this has given me a very hard kick up the ass.

I am going to have to focus on myself. Stop negative trains of thoughts that have me yearning for the past before they take hold. If I want to keep Bd, I am going to have to fight hard to prove you all wrong. To prove that it is capable…

And now I have something to fight for. Something to be strong about. When the negative thoughts come I can stop them knowing that if I don’t I will have to loose Bd or face alienating people; you are all so lovely, but I know the day will come when you will get sick of offering advice and me not taking it! I know I would.

So I want to say thank you. Thank you for not being my chorus of ‘yes men’ thank you for being honest with me, and thank you for helping me find an inner strength.

I’ll keep you posted on how I get on ;0)

I scooped the wrong poop.

It happened to me again this morning. Yes, that’s my first confession I have scooped the wrong poop on more than one occasion (hangs head in shame) the second is that I may have already shared at least part of this with you, but here’s to hoping your memory is as bad as mine!

The first time it happened it was dark. I had let BD out for a poo and although I thought I had pin-pointed the location clearly I hadn’t. BD is a bit of a pain. He refuses to go on-lead unless desperate (I am working on this) and generally if you move, or breath, after he has ‘assumed the position’ he will stop and you can be out walking the field, in the dark for another half hour. So, he squats and I freeze wherever I am and then have to reward him (again trying to make him better at pooing) while getting the bag out my pocket, moving towards the poo whilst keeping one eye on the spot and the other looking out for any other poo someone else has failed to scoop. Please note, this is not so I can pick it up… I am not that kinda person.

Anyway, the first time I scooped the wrong poop BD has run slightly down this hill and so in the dark I carefully made my way to the area where he has positioned, and I bent down and scooped the poo. I then looked at the poo I had scooped and saw it was filled with maggots. Yep, rather than picking up my dogs poo I had picked someone else weeks old, stone cold and maggot riddled poo. I shudder to this day thinking about it.

After this experience I have always been extra carefully whenever I scoop, I mean it’s bad enough I have to pick it up and usually end up wearing most of it and you want to make sure if you’re going to wear it, it came from your dog.

However, this morning I yet again picked up the wrong poop. BD – it is always with him, can I blame this on him I wonder?!! – had stopped a few meters away, squatted, finished. I threw the tennis ball and told him he was good. Switched on my head torch and walked towards the spot. I always stop a little way away to properly check the ground as I am approaching the spot and was shocked to see I was closer to it than I should have bee. He had done the ‘walk and poop’ technique so I wasn’t surprised to pick up a trail which I could see back to the tall tuft of grass he has started his business on. I bent to pick up the first bit and had a thought of “oh well, at least this will warm my hands a little.” I had thought it would be warm enough to not wear gloves – I was wrong!

However, the first bit wasn’t warm.

Neither was the next bit.

I said to no one in particular “gosh I knew it was cold, but didn’t realise it was that cold” and then I picked up the third piece (am I over sharing?) and that bit was still warm, as was the rest.

It meant only one thing…Yet again I have scooped someone elses poop. Surely this will get me into Heaven right??


It’s 8.20am and I am seriously debating if it’s too early to begin drinking – it’s 12pm somewhere right??

BD was attacked last night. I was walking him from the exes garden to the boot of my car and this Jack Russell (JRT) went for him. I saw it coming, and so I positioned myself in between BD and it. I had BD near the low wall which runs past the house, and I put my legs as a shield between him and the JRT. BD was brilliant. This dog slowed to approach him and he wrinkled his nose and showed his teeth. I shouted to anyone that could hear my dog wasn’t friendly.  A neighbour tried to shoo the dog away – it wasn’t having it. Then the dog’s owner appeared and tried to grab his dog…. The dog launched itself at BD and clung on to his neck. Obviously at this point BD reacted and we had a fully-fledged dog fight on our hands.BD was on his lead, and so I had him under some control, but this terrier would not let go. I didn’t know what to do for the best – I considered dropping BDs lead so he could out run it and get away, but I didn’t. I think I knew that although he doesn’t start them, he will finish them and so I knew if I dropped the lead he would have just stayed. So I hung on to him… but this meant I had no free hands to get this bloody dog off him. The JRTs owner tried a few times, and we did get the two separated but every time we got the terrier off it would wriggle out of the owners hands and come back for BD.

There was so much blood. I was covered. BD was covered.

I thought this dog had really injured him.

Finally we got the JRT off for a few seconds and in those moments I ran and managed to get BD safely into the boot of my car where he cowered.

I was shaking. He was a mess.

There was so much blood…..

I tried to check him over but he was very scared and I didn’t want to stress him further. Although there was all this bright red blood on him, I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I checked his neck, nose, mouth. I checked me – a  few scratches and a big rip in my new leggings – but no reason for all the blood.

The JRTs owner came across to apologise and check on BD. He said his dog was fine and was concerned about the damage done to BD. He too agreed there appeared to be too much blood for neither dog to be harmed.

I called the ex. I didn’t particularly want to – he can’t be my I have a problem and need someone go to guy. But in this instance I had no choice. BD is his dog and I wanted him to check him over as well, a second pair of eyes!!. I also called my parents and cancelled our plans to finish DIYing. They would have bought Mity; there was no way I was running the risk of having a stressed out BD and Mity in close proximity.

So BD and I spent the evening chasing tennis balls (him), drinking red wine (me) and cuddling on the sofa (both of us). He was soon smiling his head off again and I can’t find a mark on him. The ex went to see the other owners and apparently they were beyond apologetic and the JRT is now sporting a small graze about her eye but shows no other signs so no one is any the wiser as to where all this blood came from.

Fast forward to this morning when BD and I spent a brilliant half hour chucking tennis balls in the sun. I was relaxed. Then I go to drop BD at the exes before I head to work and you’ll never guess what is waiting for us as I pull up outside his house……. a big black dog. And it was almost in the exact spot where BD was attacked, and very much stood between the garden where I would be leaving BD and my car which we were both sat in.

I panicked.

There was no way in hell I was getting BD out of the car while the other dog was in eyesight. But I couldn’t bring myself to chase this dog away.

I will admit that my first thought was to just sit in the car with BD in the boot forever. Yes, that was my first thought, no I didn’t consider just driving back to mine. What can I say it’s been a stressful 24 hours. After what felt like forever (but was only a few minutes) I decided that I had no choice but to try and find the dogs owner.

Unlike the last loose dog I found, this one did run away scared and was quite happy to let me lone on it while consuming some of the treats that it smelt out in my pocket. The dog was wearing a collar but the collar was free from any information no name, no number, no address. Fat lot of use that collar is! Luckily one of my neighbours pulled out of their drive, recognised the dog and I managed to return it to her owner (who hadn’t realised she’s escaped). I got BD into the garden with no issues and was all set to arrive at work on time, despite everything… … and then I got stuck behind a tractor and ended up driving the entire way to work at 10mph.

So, what do you think, too early to open a bottle or can I justify it?

Random thoughts

You know that feeling when you are just stuck starring at an empty computer screen? You have so many thoughts running around your head, topics that you want to write about, product reviews to publish that you signed up for before you moved into your house and now realise it was wrong to agree to review when you didn’t have the time?

There are things I want to tell you about, like Mity walking with me this morning. He was so cute trotting along next to me, and he was walking so well we had time to extend the walk and I still got back to the house relaxed and early for work. I made the mistake of telling him how relaxed I was and how pleased I could have an extra long relaxing shower. So he threw up on the kitchen floor. Well I went from relaxed and chilled to late and frantic in the space of a few minutes.

The I want to share with you about my lightening bolt moment the other day when walking BD (my brain really seems to kick up a gear when walking my boys) and I realised that he would do anything I asked of him, follow me anywhere, take any risk. It both amazed and humbled me. Then it got me thinking about animal cruelty and I thought about the stories I have seen that I want to share, petitions to sign, differences to try and make.

But none of that is coming together today.

I wanted to ask for your help. I was going to challenge you with the life altering question of “what should I do with my life?” and hope you would be able to point me in any direction, because I sure as hell don’t know. I thought I had a career plan all sorted, then I was bullied. I took a new role, changed my life, let’s just say it’s not challenging me any more – I struggle to get out of bed, struggle to find motivation. With great delight I announced to my folks I fancied giving teaching a shot, which is a career I have dabbled with every time I am not happy. Originally I had a place on a teaching course at Uni but didn’t like the Uni that accepted me so went into Forensic Science. Then when I left that role I discussed accompanying a teacher friend into school to see what teaching was really like, but I got this new job and so I never did.

Part of my problem is I want to matter. I want the time I spend on this planet to matter. I want to make a difference………….. but I don’t know how.

I have never been one of those people who had a career picked out. I had a few dreams, but my parents pointed out that maybe I didn’t have the motivation I needed to go after those goals. They are right (hence the half written review) I like to work hard, but I don’t want to miss out on today while planning for tomorrow. The only thing I have ever wanted is a family and a husband (and lots of pets, but that went without saying right?!) I want to be able to give up work and raise my kids if I am ever lucky enough to have them. But as I grow up I realise this means I need to have a good nest egg, or a well established career which I can return to after a few years away. I think part of this panic about affording the future came from dating the ex. He had 9 years before he could retire, he was going to retire and see the world. This meant I had 9 years to get my shit together and afford to go with him.

Now he’s gone. But the worry I still have. In fact my career, or lack of, has become more important since he has gone. Before it didn’t matter because I came home to him and BD. I clock watched my way through most of the day but my evenings and weekends were beyond wonderful and so it didn’t matter as much. My life was full.

Now my life is a little empty.  I don’t have a successful relationship to boast about. I don’t have a job that I can wax lyrical about.

I feel stalled while all my friends are getting their ‘shit’ together.

Everyone seems to be doing it better, more competently, faster, with Jazz hands. I’m stuck on the back row forgetting the lines.

I know I’m just in a funk. I know that I am doing better than I think. I own my own house and that’s pretty spectacular. But in so many other ways I feel so very far behind.

Is quality better than quantity?

This morning I was a little unorganised. It was my first time in my new house with BD when I had to be at work the next day and despite thinking through the morning times and over allocating time, things took longer than I thought. Add to that I was packing for a bag for a night away (which I am always rubbish at), ensuring my house was left clean and tidy (yep, I’ve become uber house proud) and trying to appear keen and turn up early to work (yep so didn’t happen) and I was a little frazzled.


I had to start skipping corners.


First thing cut was my morning cup of coffee, then I decided I would grab breakfast at my desk. I gave up on the idea of trying to sort my gas meter out and randomly threw items into my bags, one bag packed for me, one for BD, hoping that I wasn’t forgetting something important. I still hadn’t made up quite enough time and so the only other area I could scrimp on was cutting down the length and location of BDs walk.


When I had been planning the previous night, I thought we might make it to some local woods. It would be secluded. There would be no dogs to worry about just the two of us. Looking at my clock and realising it was 7.35am and I was still in a towel I knew my woodland walk was going to have to happen another time. I tried to come up with another location but realised my best course of action would be to risk the very popular, local fields. It meant we could set off walking right from my front door, and we wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time driving from house to walk to house to work.


I looked at my watch as we left my house and I realised I had run out of options and I was going to have to cut his walk short this morning.


We had 20 minutes, 25 at a push.


I felt guilt. He is an active collie, he spends far too much time alone and now I was failing him. However, as we started our walk I started to wonder if I really was failing him?


I spent those 20 odd minutes completely focused on my dog.


As we walked along the road I chatted to him, telling him how much I loved him , asking hin if he slept ok and would come to stop over again (I’m not the only one who does this right??)


We walked to the field and on the way we worked on some training. He was encouraged to walk next to me, without pulling. We stopped and he sat at every curb.


A bike cycled past us, and he didn’t react in anyway.


We got to the field, and after a quick scout for other dogs he was let loose to run and chase his ball. We worked on fetch.  The size of the smile on his face made my heart smile! Half way through the walk BD lay on his side and indicated he wanted his tummy tickling. So I crouched down on the floor and gave him a good tickle, and stroke while checking him over for anything I need to worry about or tell the ex about. I also told him he was waising valuable ball chasing time by lying there, but he didn’t seem to mind so I didn’t.


We saw other dogs on the field (5 – I counted) and we ignored them all.


On the way back we practiced sitting to have the lead put back on. Again we stopped, and he sat, at all the curbs. We worked on ignoring the cat who was outside enjoying the sun. We worked on not sticking our nose through the gate with a hole in – he does it every time we work past and as I can’t see into the garden until I am level with the gate I always worry one day something bad will happen. I yet again told him “If you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong and it gets bitten you’ve only yourself to blame!” Yes, I am slowly turning into my mother!!


BD chased a bug. Together we took a detour to avoid a dog which BD got a little too excited by. BD peed and sniffed anything we wanted to and we ended our walk by playing  ‘guess which door we live at’ which I invented to try and encourage BD to identify ‘home’ but generally ends up with me worrying about him wanting to move into a neighbours house.


In those 20 minutes I was totally focused on BD. Yes we didn’t walk as far as he needed and in that aspect I failed him, but I am sure he will go on some sort of hike or run tonight with the ex so he will get his ‘exercise’.


However I can’t help but feel that was anything but a bad walk!

Dog Poo confessions

This is a long over due post, which I originally got the idea for whilst commenting on the lovely Pamela’s Something Wagging blog. (Yes, go and visit but not until you have finished here. You have to share the love!)

Now if I was a little more organised I would now be linking to the post which inspired this confession, but I’m not so just accept that it was brilliant (most all of her posts are!) and cut me a little slack because I’m single-handedly rebuilding a house after the man of my dreams kicked me out (FYI, there is no limit on how long I can use that as an excuse for being rubbish!!)


There is no easy way to say this so I am just going to put it out there……

I suck at picking up dog poo.

Yep, I’ll say it again, I suck at picking up dog poo. Now I don’t suck as in I don’t do it. That would make me irresponsible and (in my opinion) a bit of a pregnant goldfish. More I pick it up 99.99999999% of the time but more often than not I will end up covered in the stuff. I don’t know how, and I really can’t explain why but the more I pick up the worse I get! I have taken to removing jewellery, bracelets, my coat before picking up, which always causes some confusion as this means I spend a good few minutes trying to figure out which hand I am going to use to! (We’ve all done that right? RIGHT??)

I then put bag on hand and pull the handles up my arm as far as they will go to make a sort of sleeve. Then I search the area to see if there are any stray bits on any long bits of grass (they will both only poo in long grass) and I go for it. For some unknown reason I seem to have a 50:50 success rate. If I have managed to scoop the poop I will congratulate myself and be in a good mood for the rest of the day. However if I have failed usually I will then start scanning around for something that I can wipe my hand/arm/face on.  (please note, it has never actually been my face, I’m using artistic licence!)

That leads nicely to my first confession.

I was a teenager and Mity was only a few years oldand I decided that taking my dog for a walk would be a perfect first date (cheap). The date started off well enough and everything was going fine until Mity decided that he needed to do a number 2. I was a little embarrassed but kept my cool. I pulled out the poo bag, walked over to the poo…. and completely misjudged the bag angle and ended up with far more than I would have liked on my hand! I tried to wipe it off on the grass near me, but it didn’t all come off. By this time I had taken a while ‘scooping the poop’ and I was worried I would start to look weird and so I walked back to him, subtly changed sides so that he wouldn’t have to hold the ‘poo hand’ and we resumed our walk.

I spent the rest of the walk trying to remove the poo from my hand. This included (but was not limited to) me wiping my hand on any tree, bush, tall pile of grass, stone wall or anything else with an abrassive surface we walked past. When that failed I had  brain wave, and whilst walking past a puddle I dropped to my knee to ‘tie’ my tied shoe and tried to wash my hand in the puddle. It worked. The poo came off…. and was replaced immediately with brown mud which I got onto my hand while drying my hand (because it would have looked weird had I had a wet hand you understand) on some nearby grass!

My second confession.

It was before work and I had taken BD for a walk. Again the poo picking hadn’t gone to plan and so after wiping on some grass nearby when I got home I washed my hand and arm in copious amounts of soap and water. Everything was going fine, until someone bought cake into the office.

The cake was lovely, it was carrot cake but without the minging nuts and plenty of topping. I was enjoying it, and just polishing off my slightly large slice, in fact I was just licking my fingers which I had managed to get covered in icing, when I looked at my hands. My heart stopped because there around the edge of my nails, just slightly under the corner was a brown smear.

I have to admit I felt sick. I also have to admit that the first thing I did was sniff it a couple of times to see what the hell it was.

Of course it turned out to be cake (i don’t know if I would have shared this it hadn’t been!) but for a split second I was panicked!!

So what about you? Do you have any dog poo confessions? Surely I’m not the only one that these things happen to…. promise I’m not the only  one these things happen to!

Try training your own dog!

He’s got to learn“. That’s what one very lovely elderly woman told me as her hyperactive young dog jumped all over Mity as I tried my best to keep her dog from jumping all over him. Mity is getting am old man (which I hate to admit) and his eyesight and speed aren’t what they were and so he does not enjoy being ‘played with’ by other dogs as much as he once did.

I bent down to try and separate the two dogs and then she said “don’t worry if he retaliates, he’s got to learn.”

Which I completely agree with, but it isn’t up to me or my dog to teach her dog how to interact with strange dogs. That ones on her!

Now Mity is as close to trust worthy as a dog can be so I was confident that her dog was safe jumping on his head, pissed off but confident that it wouldn’t turn into a fight. But had I been with BD the situation would have been completely different. In that situation Mity would have given a warming followed by an air snap, and then if the lesson isn’t learnt he may have taken it further (which is why he is muzzled when around strange dogs).

Firstly, I do not go into the whole ‘dogs are dogs so let’s just leave them to sort it out’ attitude. To that I say “hell no”. I am not ok with letting my dog ‘fight it out’ with anyone or anything. I want me dog to look to me for guidance in a situation and to feel confident that I will keep them safe. To have them trust me that I know what I am doing. I will assess how my dog will interact with your dog. I will assess when repetitively jumping on a strange dogs head that is trying to walk away is appropriate (FYI it isn’t ever!!) and I will allow my dog to interact as I deem appropriately.

Secondly, going back to the feeling safe point above. BD has fear aggression. If a dog gets too up in his face and he can’t get away he reacts….and then we both take a step back in our training. I feel like a failure for not getting him out of the situation in which he felt threatened. We both become more edgy when we meet the next dog. It takes weeks of hard work to get to the place we were in before you let you ‘un-trained’ dog learn a lesson from my dog.

If you commit to having a dog. You are committing to everything that comes with owing a dog, the cuddles, the fun, the kisses, the bed sharing, the squeaking toys just as your favourite TV programme comes on, the ‘scooping of the pooping’ and the training. Take some god damn responsibility!!

(This incident has annoyed me so much I have pulled my phone out mid walk to write my thoughts down. This means that I have been slightly distracted from Mity while I rant. Don’t worry, he’s on a long lead and there is no one else on the field, so I know he is safe  – I’m not completely neglectful.But I feel bad he’s not had my full attention however Mity has never been happier as he has spent this time puddle dancing… however he may not enjoy his now much needed bath quite as much!!)

Dad said no!

I know that that makes me sounds like a 3 year old. I know that in actual fact I am an adult, but when I was weighing up whether or not I was ready to commit in yesterdays post I knew a major factor would be my parents help. Although he would be my dog I would need their support, basically I would need a good dog sitter for me to have any life outside of the dog. My mum said “let’s talk about it” but my dad wouldn’t and said it was a “stupid idea” and thus the conversation was ended. My dad isn’t usually like that, over the last few months he has listened as I have worried about my new house, worried about work, the ex… you name it he has listened and supported me on. But for some reason, last night there was no conversation it was a no.

The downside is I had made my mind up to wanting him. Well I’d not decided I wanted him more the idea of someone else having him made me feel sick to my stomach. It felt right, like he was my destiny. It felt like I felt about my house when I saw it for the same time, or how I continue to feel about the ex (yep, we’ll leave that there!!)

For the first time in 6 months the idea of leaving work and getting home excited me. I saw morning and evening walks across fields, I saw weekends off hiking up some sort of hill, I saw a life. I was still unsure. I was going to have to introduce him to both BD and Mity and it would all depend on how he would react being left for such a large portion of the day. But my dad’s firm no has robbed me of taking the next step, or at least that’s how I feel.

So now I see evenings sat in watching TV. Me alone from one evening to the next (unless I have BD of course). I know I was worried about the social life having a dog would rob me of, but when I think about it what social life? Yes, I will see my friends, but they all have partners, kids, lives, the vast majority of my time will be spent alone (Well annoying you lot on twitter). Yes, I will have days away, weekends away, holidays but when you break down my year a whole portion of it would be just me.

I know it is not up to my dad, but I am not naive enough to imagine I could have a dog full time alone. For that to happen I would have to give up any sort of social life which I just can’t do. I would need to have support and dog sitters. I text my sister to see if she would on occasions dog sit and she wasn’t overly keen. In fact the only person massively supportive (who I contacted in a moment of weakness) was the ex who said he would be more than happy to factor a second dog into the BD dog share scenario and would take it off my hands any time I was busy and needed it looking after. Which opens a whole new can…does he not realise that he didn’t want me in his life and so he can’t support me in that way? I am very aware that any day he could find someone new, or I could really piss him off and he can take BD and vanish. Plus if he meets anyone new, well they won’t want the ex around; he can’t commit to me long term any more. I am all too aware of this – why isn’t he??