Oh, my oh my. We gone and dog gorn done it. We’ve purchased the doggy doo dah that Little Angel has been pleading for since she muttered her first ever word “Gog!” Which swiftly progressed to “Goggy!” Then, a year on, “Me want goggy!” For a couple of years at least, Stressed Husband and I could pretend we didn’t understand what she was saying and used the old diversion tactic , shouting “Darling, let’s get sweeties” whenever she went misty eyed over Pitballs in the park. Alas, before her 9th birthday, of course, she could say “I want a dog” when anyone asked what she wanted more than anything for her birthday. In fact what she did say was “I want a dog. I’ve wanted a dog since I was born. I love dogs. Mummy and daddy had dogs when they were growing up. I’ve promised I’d love it and look after it and kiss it every day, but I know I’ll never have one. Mummy and daddy won’t let me. Ever.” Bloody hell. Well, what would you do then? Yep. We bought a goggy.
His name is Troy. Obviously, not he of the Trojan kind but the dumbed down, more handsome Troy, named after Little Angel’s fantasy husband-to-be, Zac Efron on HSM. Although Stressed Husband and I enjoy watching other parents’ faces when we say “Oh, yes, Troy. Little Angel chose the name after reading Homer’s Odyssey and particularly enjoying the story of the Trojans.” Phnar Phnar…
He is gooooooorgeous (said in American accent) and black and shiny and soft and squeezy and …. does big poos. My oh my, are they big. Let him out in the garden for two minutes and it looks like Mr Whippy has dotted little heaps of chocolate icecream everywhere. Little Angel knew that with Troy comes responsibility and so she was happy to do her share of the pooper scooping, but now that he eats more and leaves larger Mr Whippys, she’s taken to saying “Oh no mummy, you saw him do it, you clear it. That’s the rules.” Hmm, I never made up that rule and now I know why she’s taken to jumping off the trampoline and running inside to watch tv every time he circles and squats. Crafty little monkey!
It’s funny how this latest addition to our family has made it seem more complete. My Boy has taken to leaving World of Warcraft (WoW for those in the know) to proudly parade our puppy to the shops and back in the hope he meets a good looking girl or two who will fuss over him (and Troy!) Mean Teen acts all ice-queen when he’s being nippy and playful then when our backs are turned, picks him up and carries him around cooing at him. Yes, our family of five has become a family of 6 and we welcome our new boy, Troy, with open arms, open hearts and a whole lot of open bags in which to place the Mr Whippys.