A guest post from Him-In-Doors

There comes a time in every family’s life when the huge and important task of rolling back the gender stereotypes comes to a screeching halt. It wasn’t baby poo: handled that with aplomb, even when the brown bomb appeared in the bath. It wasn’t ironing shirts: I am the only one who knows how to do it anyway. It wasn’t being a stay-at-home Dad, even though a grim Italian Granny used to hiss  ‘Why you no work?’ at me as I pushed D1 about in the pram.

No. The things which make you realise that the Y-chromosome has not quite outlived its usefulness are cleaning gutters, mowing lawns, and reading maps. Oh, and doing the tax and making sure there is enough LPG in the barbecue gas bottle. Traditionally picking up dog poo is also a bloke thing, hence the intense Pre-Puptial Nuptial negotiations on this score. (See post Jan19)

And then there are the claws...

Him-In-Doors tackles Pip's talons, while D2 comforts

A confession

Have been reading up on blogging and apparently it pays to be self-effacing. So, dear readers, I will confess a dirty secret. In the school playground, (while waiting to pick up the kids) I find it hard to fit in.

Pip is gaining his own personal fan club so simply being Pip’s mum has done wonders for my street cred but there's no denying there's a bit of a clique thing happening.

Ocean Grove Mum's pose for my blog

The thing is; Ocean Grove is packed to the gunnels with long-legged, blonde, designer Mammas – and they tend to stick together. Of course, now that I have a dog, I don’t have to worry about talking to anyone else...

The dreaded puffer fish!

A local dog died recently after eating a puffer fish on the beach. As a consequence I, and many other dog owners, have become fish-phobic.

A dog after eating a puffer fish?

Now Pip, as regular readers might know, is a connoisseur of all things gross. So guess what he picked up at the beach today?

Puppies Galore!

Went for our weekly doggie playgroup session on the beach this morning and got chatting with a lady who breeds golden retrievers. All the male dogs were giving her dog Indi a good sniff and she said it was because they could smell that she was still fertile.

Met a lady on the beach today who cared for 17 (!) Golden Retriever pups

Dog Rage!

*This column has been censored in the interests of keeping my family audience

If it’s one thing I’m rapidly learning it’s that dogs inspire intense emotion. So far, it’s predominantly been witnessing the growing love that my family has for our lovely Pip.

But today two dog rage incidents gave me paws (sorry!) for thought.

Puppy School - the finale!

My boy graduated from puppy school this morning.

I don’t think this means he’s a grown-up but I’m proud to report that he passed with flying colours. No certificate or anything but I guess he would’ve just eaten it anyway.

Just the three of us...

Had a rare night out with Him-In-Doors on Friday night. Both daughters were sleeping over at respective friends and we were looking forward to a quiet morning. Got up to make Him-In-Doors poached eggs but, of course, had to feed Pip first...

An inside dog

Went to doggie playgroup again on Wednesday. Frankie and Mrs Sinatra came and Pip was in doggie heaven.

Pip  and friends from doggie playgroup

  Meanwhile, I have been experimenting over the past couple of days with letting Pip inside...with mixed results.

Puppy School - lesson 3

Him-in-Doors put Pip in his harness for me this morning so I could strap him into the car. The harness attaches to a seat-belt. This was much more successful than the crate and although he stood up a few times, it made for a more pleasant journey to puppy school.

Gravy Beef marked P.S for Puppy School

Felt mildly guilty because we hadn’t really done a whole lot of practice. Luckily I have a smart dog, who once he realises there’s half a kilo of gravy beef on tap, he pretty much does what he’s supposed to.

The Great Dog Wash

Went with Frankie’s family to Breamlea beach on Saturday morning. The weather was a bit spotty but everyone had a great time – exploring the dunes, etc. Pip and Frankie found a lost doggie toy and had a great game of tug-of-war.

Frankie and Pip play tug-of-war at Breamlea Beach. Photo by Mr Sinatra

 

And then I decided it was time to give Pip his first bath.

Lost...

A terrible thing happened yesterday. Took the kids for a long-promised treat to the local lolly shop. Left them with Pip while I ducked into the supermarket. I put the lead under the leg of D2’s chair and left them happily comparing lollies. I guess I should’ve anticipated D2 would stand up at some point...

Pip with D1(top), D2 and GQ's son in happier times

The Friday walk - not!

Set-out for our Friday walk with Dougie and the Groove Queen (GQ). The sky looked ominous and, as we passed our favourite coffee shop, the rain suddenly got serious.

Pip's friend Dougie

Getting to know you

One of the many wonderful things about having a dog is their ability to help you connect with strangers.

Pip looking irresistably cute on our lunch date

Walking a cute puppy miraculously dissolves that invisible barrier, allowing folks who might otherwise have briskly walked past to stop and have a chat.

Doggie playgroup

Took Pip to the dog beach this morning to meet up with fellow Kintala dog owners. Kintala is the name of Pip’s puppy school and one of the attractions when we enrolled was the weekly socialisation/walk on the beach.

Pip braves the water at the dog beach

So I obeyed all the rules, keeping him on the lead until we were on the beach as per Ruth’s instructions. There were about half a dozen or so owners and their dogs - a pack of four kelpies and a lab that ran full pelt chasing balls through the waves.

Puppy School - lesson 2

Took Pip in his crate to puppy school this morning.

Pip and his dreaded crate

Even though I put a big juicy bone in the crate, he still hated it and started barking on the Wallington Road. A barking dog inside a car is an ear-splitting experience. Resorted to baby strategies and started singing.

Started with ‘How much is that doggie?’, then when he started whining, made up a bastardised version of ‘Don’t cry for me Argentina’

Don’t cry for me dearest Pippo

You know the truth is I always loved you

All through your pup days

Your mad existence

I kept on singing

Givin' you dog biscuits...

Something on the nose...

Went to the dog beach this morning with the whole family, plus Frankie and his mum. Pip was ecstatic to be reunited with his best friend.

Pip with his best friend Frankie

 Now Frankie’s mum, who would henceforth like to be known as Mrs Sinatra (MS), has a strange habit. And, it must be said, a kind of embarrassing habit. Just like our canine friends, she likes to collect dead animals.

What's in a name?

So at long last, I had my own dog to accompany me on the Friday walk. Since I pounced on the Groove Queen (hereafter referred to as GQ) about half way through last year, we’ve been taking a weekly walk on the beach. I say pounce because she was a newbie and I knew she’d have no mates. When D2 told me there was a new kid in her class I immediately said ‘I’ll have to meet his Mum’. As it happened GQ and I get on famously – in spite of her superior fashion sense.

So we cemented our friendship with the weekly beach walk. Then in December, Douglas – some kind of Pomeranian with a foxy face – joined our weekly outing. 

Douglas (Dougie) the dog.

Poor Douglas had endured months as a quarantine dog; first in Shanghai and then in Melbourne. GQ spent a fair bit of money getting the family pet through the bureaucracy before he made it for his first taste of beach life in lovely Ocean Grove.

Pip discovers his naughty pants!

So, I’d kind of been under this delusion that my dog is super-smart – what with his being half Border Collie/half Lab, which is by all accounts top of the doggie pyramid. And I sort of assumed, stupidly, that he instinctively knew that roads were if not dangerous, at least off-limits.