A Canadian gal living in Britain with 3 men and a dog. Wine helps.

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Monday, September 06, 2010

This post comes with a scratch warning...

The Saturday prior to the departure of Heather & Garry, we had Andy’s family around for a BBQ. It was our third weekend of non-stop action in a row, however when I have my family come to stay I always like to have a little joining of the clans. As well as I fit in with Andy’s family, it’s always that much nicer when I have one or two of my family in the mix; something that never happens but for once or twice a year.

My cousin Wayne always has both families around him as he and his wife are close to both their families, all of whom get on with each other (which is rare). I'm sure that most of the time, its a good thing and I often find myself wishing we all lived closer together, because both mine and Andy’s family tolerate like each other. Sure my dad and mother-in-law have been known to ‘lock horns’ a few times, but we find it amusing; well, everyone except for my dad that is but you can’t win ‘em all. There aren’t many in my own family that challenge my father and when I come across people in our extended family who will, such as my cousin Collette, and now my mother-in-law, I can’t help but laugh a little.  So on second though, maybe it wouldn’t work so well if we were in closer quarters, but I don't buy into that, we would all do just fine. Most of the Allenby clan are (self-professed) know-it-alls and love a good banter. Compared to the in-laws that came before me, with the 1st wife, our family runs like a classic episode of the Brady Bunch. Ok, maybe that’s pushing it a bit (besides, do we really want to be that lame?) we are probably more like the characters out of The Jeffersons. But we work; amidst all the dysfunction our families blend well together.  We can bring both branches of the family together and it is always a laugh.  Which is the most important item on the agenda here in the McAllenby household.

It was an added bonus on Saturday to have my cousin in the kitchen with me, helping me get everything sorted while I heard Andy’s family laughing and carrying on.  It was also a big help to have her pouring me another large glass of wine in the midst of what happened that evening:

It happened shortly after everyone had eaten and Heather and I were clearing up; all joking aside, it was good to have so many people around to keep me calm, calmer than I would have been if we'd been on our own  that evening.   What I'm about to tell you also made me realize (I doubt any of you will be surprised by this proclamation) that I am way too attached to my dog. Seriously – to the point where I will need a psychiatrist should anything happen to her. Even that sentence proves how much denial I am in. Something will happen to her eventually because she is a dog and people generally outlive their dogs. They aren’t children. BUT... to those of us who don’t have kids of their very own, they tend to be our substitute babies; especially when our step-children are nearly grown and don’t need us so much anymore (unless they want food in their bellies and money in their hand ;)

I'm digressing.  Back to the story:

As I was saying, we were clearing up after dinner when Connor came in the kitchen and asked me to have a look at some lumps Molly had. Almost instantly my heart started skipping beats as it slowly begin to dawn on me what I was looking at and calmly hysterically called Wendy into the kitchen.  It would appear that during our visit to the Lake District the previous weekend, Molly picked up ticks; three ugly blood sucking little mites. (I'm itching just typing this.) I was so appalled and upset, horrified that these disgusting creatures were attached to my dog and I hadn’t known. Heather fetched me another glass of wine (that I couldn't drink) while Connor stayed close to my side, calmly repeating that Molly was going to be just fine. I felt foolish for having tears in my eyes, of course she was going to be OK I kept repeating; more for my sake or Connor's I do not know. Dave was sent home for the surgical spirits (my mother in law is the Dog-Mother after all) and after about an hour of scrubbing the little buggers, we had them all out. Molly was so good throughout it all and didn’t fight it one bit. I hate the look of the ugly scabs they have left on her chest, but they are out now, and I’m going to make sure I take the necessary steps to ensure this doesn’t happen again.

Around a year ago a similar situation happened to my friend’s little girl and I remember reading her post about her experience and how upsetting it was for her. Molly is only my dog and I was in major distress, guilty over the fact that I didn’t notice straight away, when logic tells me that it’s easy not to notice these little bastards on a dog until they’ve been there awhile. The dog wasn't even that bothered.  I think my mind would have got up and left the building if it had been my child.  But no, we have to remain calm for the children, I'm sure I would have coped; It's not like it they were leeches.   Anybody who knows me will tell you that dog, child or senior citizen, I honestly cannot cope with leeches - my mind really does check out when they come on the scene, to the point where I might have even used the kids as stepping stones to get out of the water on a past occasion.

2 comments:

Fern Wimpley said...

Poor Molly!
Glad you got them out!
And really, would that lovely dog of yours be anything other than a champ in a situation like this?
I certainly understand your love of her!

dawn mclaughlin said...

:)
It's funny that you mentioned the leeches. I was thinking of that day at Mersey when Connor was the hero- and here he was playing a Prince Charming again!

xoxo. Glad it ended well!