Following a rather low-key Christmas and New Year (apart from when Fletcher got caught in the fairy lights and almost pulled the whole tree down), I was worried that I might not have any anecdotes to report this month, but I can always rely on Fletcher to pull something out the bag. This time for all the wrong reasons. He is being an absolute nightmare and I’m at my wits end. I can only think of one reason…he is SPOILT! Too spoilt.
Having my husband and I at home for almost two weeks over the festive break, it appears Fletcher has become accustom to the extra belly rubs, cuddles on the sofa, presents and treats. During Christmas he has had our full attention, days have evolved around his needs. We’ve been on lots of lovely local walks including Audley End Park in Saffron Walden, South Weald Country Park, city strolls in Cambridge and a refreshing New Year’s Day walk in Grantchester, where Fletcher dived straight into the middle of a group of canoeists and proved he is the ultimate mucky pup by covering himself head to paw in thick, sticky mud.
Since I’ve returned to work, he has been a complete pest! Whining, crying and hanging on me as I type. He simply won’t settle. And when he does I can see one big brown eye staring at me and hear subtle whimpers. I spent a good few days pandering to his needs, thinking perhaps he was ill, but no, there’s nothing wrong with him. Then I thought maybe he could smell the fox that I saw dart across the garden, but that was a week ago. Truth is, he is just being naughty!
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I’ve lost count how many times I’ve threatened him with Battersea Dogs Home. I even called the vets to enquire about having him neutered. When I said our surname, the vet immediately replied with: “Fletcher! Oh yes, I remember him, such a bundle of energy!” Of course she remembers him, he likes to make an impression. Last time she saw him, he was splashing blood around her reception. Anyway she believes as he doesn’t hump nor is he aggressive, neutering won’t help and he is “just being a spaniel!”
Things got so bad earlier this week, that my husband and I had to leave the house. On a cold, damp Tuesday evening in January, our dog actually made us leave home. I wish I was joking and I know it sounds extreme, but I needed a break. We went for dinner just to have an hour of peace and quiet from his relentless playing and whining.
As I type he has climbed on the back of my chair and onto my shoulders because I’m not paying him attention. Send help!
