What kind of friend is it who poos on your floor and costs you a pure fortune?
The Pooch is under pressure. The Pooch needs friends in the baddest way. The Pooch’s popularity rating has dipped close that of the Pope along Sandy Row. One more wrong move and our dog is on his way out. Permanently.
First he rips up one of the new peacock-patterned cushions Hermione bought to adorn the sitting room at Medders Manor. Peacock-patterned cushions are apparently irreplaceable. It’s not that they are expensive, just that they were an end-of-line special at Our Town Soft Furnishings.
Second he growls at Her Majesty the mother-in-law. HM thought she was being friendly. The Pooch thought HM was engaged in inappropriate touching. It was an argument he was never going to win, so he has been exiled from the royal court.
Third he vomits all over the kitchen. This might not be considered a hanging offence but for the fact that he vomited because he had eaten Eldrick’s chocolate. Now he is in Eldrick’s bad books as a thieving cur. And he has chalked up another black mark with Hermione as she was the one who cleaned up the mess.
Added to his past record of nipping at children’s fingers, of refusal to stop hauling on his lead while on walkies, of insisting on only the most expensive dog food, and we have a canine that is treading a perilously fine line.
It seemed that he had even lost the support of the person expected to be his staunchest ally. I came home the other day to hear young Persephone in full rant: ‘Movies, books and poems make out that a dog is man’s best friend, but what kind of friend poos on your floor and costs a pure fortune?’
I stood in the hall and listened through the door as she laid it on with a rhetorical trowel: ‘Dogs really are expensive. For starters, there is the initial purchase price of a few hundred euro. Then maintenance costs of €208 per month follow. That’s about €2,500 a year – the price of 120 new Pull & Bear hoodies!’
Where does our daughter get her figures? At that rate the Pooch must be eating gold nuggets and getting his vaccinations at the Blackrock Clinic. She continued: ‘You could be sharing the house with this precious pup for more than a decade, during which time the mutt puts a €20,000-plus hole in the family pocket.’
She sounded really worked up. And this denunciation was coming from the girl whose idea it was to acquire a terrier in the first place: ‘You may say it is worth it for the look of unadulterated love and devotion you receive on your return home each evening. Get real. Do not be fooled into thinking that the dog’s joy is related to your arrival. The dog has just two things on its mind at any time – food and walks.’
Who on earth was she talking to with such vicious gusto? ‘Spare me the ‘but they are so cute’ line. What is so cute about a creature which poos all over your brand new carpet? Or which pees on the sly around the back of your sofa?’
I could contain my curiosity no longer, coughing loudly to announce my arrival before opening the door and entering the room. Inside, I found Persephone on her own striking a senatorial pose in front of a mirror.
She looked around: ‘Oh hiya, Da. Good news - I’ve been picked on the school debating team. We are proposing a motion that all pets should be persecuted not cosseted. I am practising my speech. I have to tell The Pooch here that he should not take me seriously. He’s a lovely little thing really.’
Our four-legged buddy looked out in his best winsome oneear-up, one-ear-down manner from the corner where he was gnawing on the TV cable. Calling him a lovely little thing may be stretching it, but he should be good for another few months yet.
• Putting Medders straight: Bernie Foley has been in touch by email in response to the piece on courting couples: ‘the reason you cannot find the word CONOODLE in your spell check is that the word you’re looking for is CANOODLE (to caress, fondle, or pet amorously). It’s amazing how many people can misspell some words for years…. I felt duty bound to point out to you the error of your ways.’
Thanks, Bernie.