Rabbit Near Death Experience

There is no other explanation. I have finally taken leave of my
senses.

Yes.

Today I adopted a dog from a rescue home.

It wasn't like I got up in the morning with the idea of getting a dog.
No. I got up with a list of things to do. Get Child Benefit from Post
Office, get shopping, visit Helen. Achievable.

Trouble was I listened to Kit who had a persuasive argument in favour
of getting a dog and then of course Helen was encouraging so we all
hopped in the van and trundled to the dog home. I can't remember what
the persuasive argument was now.

Of course once you see all the sad dogs in their wire cages peering
mournfully at you, you are done for. Some of them bark and skip about,
some of them wag their tails hopefully, the saddest ones stay curled in
their beds at the back of the pen and eye us with defeated
expressions.

This one bounces happily, has a sweet face, greets us joyfully and
pokes his snout out through the gap in the gate. We take him outside
where he falls over his own feet, snaps at passing flies and acts
adorably.

So I pay for the privelege of taking a dog off their hands. They sell
me a lead to take him home with and we all get into the van. Kit's face
shining with delight. All the other dogs with their different
expressions we leave to their own fates. Even Dog of the Week, Snippet
the Whippet whose plight was advertised in verse on a whiteboard
outside the office. I hope Kit didn't read the line "Or it's a one way
trip to the vets I fear." She is very sentimental.

Back at Helen's our new dog Archie runs at high speed round and round
the garden and leaps across the flowerbeds like a National Hunt winner.
He plays and bounces and flops out on the grass with his tongue lolling
out.

I hear myself saying "a house isn't a home without a dog" and really I
do feel that. Having grown up with dogs and having always had a dog
since I had my own home I have felt the lack of one over the last
year.

Archie travels home between us in the front of the van, sat up like a
mascot. He lays his head winningly on my thigh as I drive. He lolls on
Kit's lap and sticks his head out of the window. We laugh at his ears
flapping backwards in the wind. He looks like a world war one flying
ace.

The boys don't seem too surprised when we come back with Archie. It's
as if they are used to having a mother who does such things. He is
petted and pronounced to be a cool dog. He snouts round the whole house
and looks interested in eating the rats. The rats look at him as though
they are interested in biting his nose. The rats are moved into Kit's
bedroom.

Later I hear much screaming coming from next door's garden. Archie is
trying to eat the rabbit. He has slipped out of the back door while
someone was trying to go through it and he has streaked through the
place where the fence ought to be. I fetch him back but several
pre-teen girls, including Kit, are traumatised. Kit and I take Archie
for a long walk up the canal and down through town and back through the
park. It is almost dark when we return. Miraculously Archie knows how
to walk to heel. And how to sit. Someone has trained him.

When we get back Archie greets both boys by trying to hump their legs.
I tell Archie off. I threaten him with having his knackers off. He
seems unfazed by this. He takes to his bean bag bed with gusto.

Helen phones to see how Archie has settled in. She has fallen in love
with him. I am not sure I approve of how much she guffaws when she
hears of the rabbit near death experience. She agrees I must get a
fence as soon as possible and that he should have his knackers off if
he carries on trying to hump people's legs. "Mind you," she says, "I
didn't notice any knackers. Have you looked properly?"

I walk over to where Archie is sound asleep on his bean bag. I lift one
of his back legs and sure enough, no knackers.

Helen is incontinent with mirth.

Next the boyfriend phones for the entire dog story. I did send a text
earlier saying "oops ... i seem to have acquired a dog..." and he
replied "HAHAHAHAHAHA".

After I have described the dog in each physical detail, the boyfriend
pronounces that he might be The Right Dog. Some people have very fixed
ideas. Boyfriend asks if he can come over and have a go with the dog
and if he could sometimes borrow him for weekends. I wonder if they
will take to each other, or if the humping might constitute a bit of a
barrier to bonding.

I make a shopping list. It has Bowl, Collar, Flea Spray, Ball, Fence on
it.

I send the dog to sleep in Oldest Son's room. He curls up innocently on
his bean bag. I go to bed. Kit is in my bed when I get there. She can't
sleep with the rats in her room as they are making a lot of ratty
nocturnal noises. I fall asleep wondering if I have done the right
thing.