Belle and Daisy (3)

As I worked weddings with my aunt Fiona, I lived parttime in Dublin, parttime in Waterford. We would go to the weddings with a magic mirror photo booth. It was basically a big box with a mirror on it but you could interact with the screen and take selfies with it. We each had our roles; both of us unloaded and packed up the van, then once we were set up, one of us was overseeing the goings on with the mirror, the other in charge of props. Fiona was great like that, she was always coming up with quirky ways to make money.

The most joyous thing about the agreement was that I got to sleep in the Cooper household on the nights we were working. The best bit about that was the wakeup call every morning. I would hear the ‘tick, tick, tick,’ of puppy paws enter the spare room, my room, and then would feel something heavy at my feet, ascending slowly up my body to my face where I would be covered in doggy drool. I didn’t even need to open my eyes to know it was Daisy.

Once finished giving me a facial, she lifted the duvet up with her nose and proceeded to get under it. She moved about under there until she finally settled on my belly. It felt like having a hot water bottle laying on my chest, her little nose poking out of the duvet. There were some days I couldn’t help but just stare at the cuteness of her scrunched up little face laying on her white paws. I was always afraid to take a picture because that would mean reaching over to get my phone from the bedside locker and disturbing the peaceful angel.

Just as I fell asleep to the snores that Daisy was emitting, the bloody postman decided to come, and of course, like with many dogs, the postman was someone who really pissed her off. Belle would hear him first from the other room and then Daisy would rise quickly and jump off the bed, taking the duvet with her and I would roll my eyes as I got out of bed to reclaim the covers from the floor. Both dogs bound down the stairs like lunatics, barking as they went until they were quite sure their arch nemesis had gone for the day. The Coopers, Lorraine and Fiona, had to get a basket attached to the door as one day, Daisy had ripped open a check and, needless to say, that didn’t go down well.

Once sure the postman had taken heed to their anger at the Gaul of him putting anything into their house, they climbed up the stairs to snuggle once again. Belle, ever the lady, went up the stairs one at a time, whilst the other lunatic barely touched a step. Daisy did her whole ritual to lay on my stomach again as Belle would join in on the fun and lay next to me on my pillow…. I was in heaven!

Before my Rex died, I often woke to the sight of his nose. He would lay his head on my pillow and, for the first few times, frightened the life out of me…but when I had gotten used to it, I felt privileged to see him so comfortable. Now Belle was on my pillow and I felt that same sense of privilege all over again. As I stared into her closing deep brown eyes, I smiled knowing Rex would be looking down and smiling.

As Belles eyes, closed more and more with each blink, I felt content. When mummy Fiona came into the room, two hours later, awaking the three of us from our cacophony of snores, I realised it was lunch time. The three of us rose simultaneously and made our way downstairs for something to eat. The girls got a half a pouch of pedigree chum in doggy nuts, and I got a toasted ham and cheese sandwich. Naturally as I was making my sandwich, I snook a piece of ham into each of their bellies, Daisy giving the secret away by howling her thank you’d and asking for more. Fiona just laughed.

After lunch, we ventured outside and, as I brought the girls around the small green space outside the house for them to do their business, mummy Fiona was starting the car. She pulled it out of the driveway, smiling as I had the honour of picking up Belle’s poo. She rolled down the car window and told me to leave the bag on the front step. I looked at her blankly. I really wanted to wash my hands. ‘You can wash them in nanny’s!’ she instructed and I threw the poo bag onto the front step before securing the girls in the back seat with their seatbelts buckled.

Belle loved the car…Daisy not so much. Fiona opened the windows just enough for them to stick their noses out to get some fresh air into their lungs, but not so much that they could stick their heads out. Even if she did, their seatbelts would have prevented that from happening.

As we pulled into nanny’s driveway, Fiona and me got out of the car and as Fiona went to open the door, I let the girls out of their restraints. Nanny’s house was the end house of an estate and beside her was a massive greenspace where I led Belle and Daisy to, but there was no need as they ran to it after jumping out of the car.

I let them run around, asking Fiona if they would be ok if I went in to see nanny, but there was no need as nanny came out to see me. She gave me a big hug and told me she was delighted to see me. To be honest, I was just as glad to see her. With her dementia, I was just waiting for the day that she didn’t know who I was. As I hugged her, I could feel her bones through her clothes and noticed that she had become that much frailer since I last saw her.

Nanny used tea as an excuse to go back into the house to sit down. She was a very proud woman who would never admit that she was tired. Fiona gathered the girls after they had run around the green space at least four times, each stopping to pee in the exact same spot as the other.

They bound into the house, full of devilment, and made their way to the press where they sat patiently waiting for nanny to give them their biscuit. As she was doing that, I took a bowl from the press and filled it up with water. The girls, as gentle as jelly, carefully took the biscuits out of nanny’s hand and scattered to eat them. Daisy, ever the optimist, sat beside the press begging for another biscuit, whilst Belle polished off the bowl of water. After I refilled it, she came back for more.

Mummy Fiona opened the sliding doors that brought you from the dining room to the garden where the girls explored all of the colourful figurines. As I waited for the kettle to boil, I watched them out the kitchen window…they looked as though they were having fun. I put a tea bag into each of the cups, including nanny’s cup which was the tall red one…she wouldn’t drink from any other. I knew that I liked my tea strong so after I brewed Fiona’s, I put her tea bag into my cup and squeezed the living daylights out of them before discarding them in the tiny bin beside the sink. I knew nanny didn’t like a lot of milk so I put in just enough for the tea to change colour slightly before putting it in front of her. I carried Fiona’s and my cup over to the table and once I placed them on the glass covering the table, I went in search of biscuits.

Daisy ran inside and planted her bum on the tiles promptly, her tail wagging as she had heard me open the press. She knew I was a sucker for cuteness and gave each of them another biscuit before mummy Fiona knew what I was doing. Then I went to the top shelf…. the place that held the ‘nice’ biscuits. I took down the box and as there was so much variety and I couldn’t choose, I blamed Fiona when I brought the whole box over to the dining room table.

To my surprise, nanny picked one up to eat. I looked at my phone, it was 15:00. I asked the question any loving granddaughter would ask their ninety-year-old declining grandmother; ‘did you have any lunch?’ Fiona stopped just as she was about to bite into a Cadbury snack bar and realised that there was no sign of whether she did or not. ‘Of course I had my lunch!’ nanny answered defensively. Fiona and I locked eyes, ‘I’m going to make a sandwich,’ she announced, ‘does anyone want one?’ I accepted the offer and to my surprise so did nanny.

Nanny bent down and started talking to Daisy, who was begging for another biscuit from the table; ‘you had your biscuit!’ she told her whilst rubbing her chin. Daisy walked away and I began to talk to nanny when, suddenly, Daisy jumped up onto Fiona’s chair and started to drink her tea from the cup. I couldn’t but laugh, as did nanny, but mummy Fiona nearly had a conniption. She rushed over and removed Daisys muzzle from the cup, her whiskers dripping with tea. ‘Daisy Cooper,’ she scolded, ‘what are we going to do with you!’ she said and ushered her of the chair.

Fiona placed a large plate of egg salad sandwiches on the table and I watched, smiling, as nanny went for another, then another, then another. I locked eyes with Fiona again and we nodded to each other.

With the sandwiches gone and the tea drunk, Belle and Daisy seemed to have had enough time in the garden and Belle was begging to get up on mummy Fiona’s lap. Once she was up, Daisy wanted up…so naturally I took up Daisy. The five of us laughed and joked until nanny yawned and we knew it was time to go. I was only too glad, as Daisy was heavy. Puggles on average are about 15kg.

Mummy Fiona asked the girls if they wanted to go home and they bound off of our laps and ran to the front door. Nanny made her way into the sitting room where her favourite program happened to be on…Judge Judy.

I buckled the girls into the car as Fiona made sure everything nanny needed was at arm’s reach.  I got into the passenger seat and when Fiona came out, we went back to 511 Churchfield, the girls pooped from all the running around they did on the green.

As we pulled into the driveway, Fiona looked at me fondly, I returned the sentiment and we high fived. ‘That will do pig,’ she said, one of her famous sayings, ‘that will do!’