Posts Tagged ‘ dogs ’

The weekend report

So.  Hugo, Clint, and Fred were left in the singing librarian’s care for a whole weekend, a weekend that also included some necessary catching up on studying and a side order of attempting to sleep.  How did it go?  Judging by the number of comments my last post received, everyone is absolutely desperate to know.  We’ll start with Fred.

Fred was very well behaved, which is a relief, as he’s much bigger than me and I was rather hoping that he wouldn’t start moving, eating or talking at any point over the weekend.  He simply sat there patiently while I applied the gloopy brown stuff which wasn’t quite paint and wasn’t quite creosote.  He had settled very close to two of the garden walls, requiring some interesting gymnastic twisting and bending to reach everywhere, and he did require two coats on his front.  But, all things considered, he was very good.  He even looks rather lovely, at least from a distance.  If you get too close, you can see evidence of my lack of finesse when it comes to such things, but from a few feet away, he fairly glows.

Clint was generally well-behaved, though he seemed far more interested in the human resources management material I was intending to read than I was.  I do want to be a real live qualified librarian, but management is so very much not the right career path for me, so it is extremely hard to summon up any interest in the psychological contract and similar dullness.  Clint, however, thought the material was fascinating, as he clambered on to it several times.  He also made friends with Fred, sitting on him as a handy vantage point to watch me as I painted.  But he did blot his copybook on Saturday morning.  I was woken up by Clint launching himself from who knows where and landing on me as I was in that wonderful not-quite-awake state which early Saturday mornings are made for.  I have never, ever been woken up by a cat like that before, so it was truly startling and did not endear Clint to me in any way.  To make matters more interesting, my door was closed, so he hadn’t entered that way.  The window was slightly open, but I’m on the second floor (British second floor, therefore American third floor, I think), so he couldn’t have come in that way unless he can both fly and squeeze through a gap one or two inches big.  So he must have come through the floorboards.  Quite possibly from the old kitchenette on the first floor of the house, which has a hole in the ceiling leading to the room next to my room, where I have several floorboards still up.  I think my surprised reaction to his appearance may have scared Clint, as he spent most of the weekend (when he wasn’t reading my study material) either on Fred or in an armchair downstairs, leaving a lovely dusty catprint pattern all over the red upholstery.

Hugo was in mourning.  He hates it when his mummy is away, and even though I appear to be his third favourite person in the world, he still expressed his melancholy by curling up in his bed and ignoring me, with an occasional foray into mummy’s bedroom to make a nest out of her ironing pile.  He didn’t seem to mind the new feeding regime too much, and there was only one occasion when I found any unwanted liquids on the floor, and I can’t be certain it was him.  It wasn’t left overnight, anyway, so the issue of random night-time toilet-going seems to be under control.  Now that mummy is back, Hugo’s usual enthusiasm for seeing me has returned, and he will now wander around my room if he gets a chance.  I don’t remember him coming in at all over the weekend.

So, shed painted, cat frightened, dog cleared up after less than usual, boring notes read, food eaten and sleep rudely interrupted.  All in all, an interesting weekend, home ‘alone’.

The adventures of Hugo, Clint and Fred

This is a post which has very little to do with either singing or libraries.  It is not about theatre, books, television, comics or religion, which have also been topics for discussion here at Singing Librarian Central.  No, it is about a dog, a cat, a shed and one man’s mission to look after them.  That man, in case you aren’t with me, is the Singing Librarian.  Me.

Recently, I bought a house with a performing teacher, a warbling prayer coordinator and a musical auditor, who share the beautiful old former dental surgery in a strange but happy life, also looking after two black furry creatures: Hugo the Labrador, who is a working guide dog, and Clint the runtish cat.  Our menagerie recently increased due to the addition of the very well-behaved Fred, a new wooden shed who nestles quietly under our enormous holly tree.  This weekend, it is my responsibility to care for all three of these in various ways.

Clint needs a fresh lick of paint.  Fred needs to be reeducated about his toilet training.  And I have to be kind to Hugo, who has taken to sitting and purring on my bed.  Or something like that.  The cat will be no trouble at all, as cats generally look after themselves.  All I have to do is make sure that the dog can’t steal his food and be willing to stroke him if he randomly jumps on to my lap while I’m writing a blog post.  The shed needs some sort of paint-like liquid applying to it, so I am hoping for reasonable weather.  My DIY skills are essentially limited to destroying things and painting things, so this task has been left to me.  And the dog has a little trouble with continence at the moment, or is attention seeking via the unusual method or random micturition during the night.  A changed regime of eating and ‘going for a busy’ is to be enforced to deal with this, starting tonight, the first night of my stewardship of the household.

I get on very well with Clint and Hugo, having known each of them since they adopted their current owners.  Indeed, Hugo is very fond of me, or can be when the fancy takes him.  He certainly doesn’t like it if he doesn’t get to see me for a long time.  His enthusiasm when I appear after an extended absence is heartwarming to see.  Fred, on the other hand, is new to me.  I did not assist in his construction, and have only had a very brief formal introduction, so I am not sure whether he will take kindly to my ministrations this weekend.  We shall see.

Expect an update on the three boys at some point over the weekend.  Normal service (i.e. moaning about students, raving about musical theatre and a distinct lack of discussion around the topic of animal excretion) will be resumed shortly, I’m sure.

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