We're getting a dog. Well, actually he's a small black labrador puppy who smells delicious. And we're picking him up on Saturday. He's called Stanley.
I am spending the week veering wildly between feelings of excitement and intoxication which easily matches the kids' delight, and feeling weak at the prospect.
I'm trying to quell the voice which is asking exactly why we're taking on a puppy when by the end of the day I pretty much already feel at my limit.
By the time I've gone to work, tried to write (ha ha), given evening private tuition, taken the kids to and from school, made tea and dinner, cleaned up, washed clothes, done the shopping, travelled to Leeds once a week in preparation for my psychotherapy training next year....I'm kind of exhausted to put it politely. Although that's not all in one day. I'm being dramatic, right?
But - we've been thinking about a dog for a while. I'm hoping that finding time for a walk every day will do me a lot of good and the happy presence of his whole being radiates joy for life. That's got to be good karma.
I'll tell myself that early in the morning while I'm trying to get the kids ready for school and the puppy is flying around.
And he'll sit still for Coronation Street, I'm sure.
Watch this space.
Into the Tornado Shelter
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