And they call it puppy love

I think it’s time I got another dog. Maybe it’s because spring has finally sprung and the weather is getting a bit milder here in England, you start feeling a bit “broody” as my late mother would say. Nesting is another word that’s thrown around. But maybe I just like the thought of getting another dog.

They say there are two types of people in this world, those who like cats and those who like dogs. Maybe it’s the inner Libra in me, but I see the joy in both. Just don’t ask me to mind your tarantula or tortoise — they’re not the type of thing that should be kept as a household pet.

Somehow, the thought of having a tarantula curled up at my feet doesn’t hold much appeal to me. And it would take all night for a tortoise to make its way up onto the couch — even if it could manoeuvre its way over the rug, past the slippers and around the footrest where the tarantula would not be curled up. Besides, it would likely be hibernating for the winter so what’s the fun in having a per for only half of the year anyway?

I think this broodiness for a dog has been sparked by my stepson and his girlfriend, who has just adopted an eight-week-old Huskie pup, Diya. They say the name Diya is from ancient Sanskrit and means ‘gift’.

The cutest thing yet

She’s obviously not house-trained yet — I’m referring here to the puppy — so it’s depositing all sorts of diyas over their nice wooden floors. She is the cutest thing — again the puppy. And she likes to be tickled when she’s rolling around the floor — the puppy but I can’t answer for sure …

If I do get a pup I am torn between getting one from the pound or one from a nice family whose pets have just had a litter.

The trouble with going to a pound is that I would want to take all of the things that have been abandoned and had a rough ruff start to life. For sure, it might be some sort of a Heinz 57 that would make it completely unique. But then all dogs are completely unique, as are we.

I was walking the promenade the other day when I came across a beautiful little pup — one of those new hyper-allergenic mixes of things that don’t shed and are supposed to be really good with little kids.

A cockapoo or labradoodle thingy that was dreamt up by some breeder who had verged too far from mindfulness to mindlessness and decided that they could cash in on people’s fear of dust and fur. Somehow, I don’t think that one of these breeds is for me.

My sister-in-law has a big houndy dog that looks like a cross between a greyhound and a giraffe but leaves diyas like an elephant. They got it from the pound and, because it was so destructive, they decided to get another one to keep it company.

The logic in that is beyond my reasoning capabilities. Instead of solving the problem, they seem to have duplicated it — except that the new dog looks like a cross between a pug and a rat with a bit of hedgehog mixed in.

Before I talk myself into getting a new dog, I’ll have to fix the hole in the backyard fence. The last thing I need is having my neighbours up in arms about my pet making its mark in their petunias.

The more I think about this, the more I seem to be talking myself out of getting a new puppy. But I do have to admit, the stepson does have one cute pet. Diya’s not bad either.