oh beautiful - fab story and worth a read

Laura Kemp with puppy Ole Gunnar Solskjaer


There is a new addition to the house.

A 14-week-old Cavachon, a cross between a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and a Bichon Frise.

If you don’t know what that is, just picture Pippin, Aunty Mabel’s dog in CBeebies show Come Outside. Which is quite apt because I’m spending so much time in the rain persuading the dog in a ridiculous voice to “go wee-wees” only to come back in for him to do his business on the floor in the split-second my back is turned.

It was a big decision to get him, considering we have a cat, and everyone warned me off, saying I was far too lazy to take one on.

So I wanted his name to reflect the enormous thought and multitude of reasons behind his arrival. I suggested a few: My Husband Knows I’ll Have A Breakdown If We Have Another Baby.

My Husband Refuses To Even Consider A Second Child. Go And Play With The Dog Son.

Also Midlife Crisis because this is the only reason mums get puppies when they’ve finished their families.

Obviously, my other half wouldn’t agree to any of those because he doesn’t like to talk about feelings unless it’s to do with his bowels or football.

We invited the six-year-old to have a go at thinking up a name.

But they were rubbish.

Minecraft wasn’t going to work, Tan after Vincent was blasphemy and Jesus Christ Fenton has been done to death.

My husband took control of the situation; we needed something that was timeless, suitably doggy and not so ridiculous that you’d feel embarrassed shouting it on a YouTube video.

It had to be a name that meant something to us, a symbol of the emotional bond we would feel over the years to come, a sign he was part of the family and a substitute sibling for our son.

He wracked his brains, searched the grey matter and sifted through the options available to him.

Ollie, he said, finally. But not spelled like that – instead it would be written as Ole as in Ole Gunnar Solskjaer.

An instant hit, we agreed. Just think, if we’d got him two weeks earlier, he’d have been called Malky.

It suits him actually – he’s a little white and blond bouncy thing that’s good at cocking his leg to the misfortune of those around him.

And, by the way he chews through wires, he has huge potential as a baby-faced assassin.

Hey Dave........I'm guessing there are not many pink & fluffy animal lovers on here.

Not sure who Laura Kemp is myself, but I'll be very surpirsed is she manages to keep that blanket free of doggy smell & hair........  

Just think, if we’d got him two weeks earlier, he’d have been called Malky.

He'd probably just stand outside of his kennel barking if that was his name.

thanks pal.
wife and i have had rescued dogs for most of our married life. the latest is maisie a cocker spaniel bitch. she may be deaf and have very limited eyesight, but love her to bits

Bluebird Dæhli wrote:

Just think, if we’d got him two weeks earlier, he’d have been called Malky.

He'd probably just stand outside of his kennel barking if that was his name.

thought that sentance was pure class   :cup: :bounce:   

davewebber65 wrote:

Bluebird Dæhli wrote:

Just think, if we’d got him two weeks earlier, he’d have been called Malky.

He'd probably just stand outside of his kennel barking if that was his name.

thought that sentance was pure class    :cup: :bounce:   

     

davewebber65 wrote:thanks pal.
wife and i have had rescued dogs for most of our married life. the latest is maisie a cocker spaniel bitch. she may be deaf and have very limited eyesight, but love her to bits

Don't get me wrong, I love dogs and admire anyone who takes in rescues. However, puffed up trophy animals and their owners don't do much for me.